“Jesus, he’s hot,” Vero said over my shoulder.
I threw an elbow into her ribs. Cleared my throat. “Can I help you, Officer?”
A deep dimple cut into his five o’clock shadow. He extended a hand, forcing me to open the door wider to shake it.
“My name’s Detective Nick Anthony and I’m with the Fairfax County police. I’m looking for Finlay Donovan.” My knees threatened to buckle, and I held fast to the door. The officer’s brow creased. “If it’s a bad time, I could come back.” His voice had the rough edges of someone who spent his days barking orders, but his dark eyes were soft under thick, long lashes, and my name had come out more like a question than an order.
“I’m Finlay,” I said cautiously, looking behind him for his partner. If he was here to arrest me on suspicion of murder, he probably hadn’t come alone.
His hesitant smile warmed, stretching to the sun-deepened creases around his eyes. “I’m a friend of your sister’s. I’m working a case you might be interested in, and Georgia thought it might be a good idea if I talk to you.”
“Me? Why me?” I asked, my body half-hidden by the door as Vero listened behind it.
The detective scratched the back of his head, his smile becoming almost sheepish. “I hit a wall, and she thought you might be able to help me.” He glanced over his shoulder at Mrs. Haggerty’s window. “Mind if I come in?”
He wasn’t flashing a warrant or reading me my Miranda rights. It didn’t seem like he was here to arrest me. I held open the door, hoping it wasn’t a mistake. “Sure. Okay.”
Vero raised an eyebrow, appraising his long legs as they stepped into the foyer. I jerked my chin toward the stairs, but she shook her head. Detective Anthony stopped short when he saw her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had company. I probably should have called first.” He hitched a thumb at the door. “I can come back later—”
“No,” Vero and I said at the same time. If he walked out now, I’d spend the rest of the day panicking over why he’d come here in the first place. Better to get this over with and rip it off like a Band-Aid.
“This is Vero, my nanny—”
“Accountant,” Vero interjected, shaking his hand.
“Vero lives with us. And she was just going upstairs.” I threw her a pointed look. “We can talk in here,” I said, steering Detective Anthony into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, soda, or anything?”
“Soda would be great.” He slid off his windbreaker as I opened the fridge. I watched him over the refrigerator door. A brown leather holster crisscrossed his back, and the black grip of his gun seemed to point at me as he took a seat at my table.
My throat bobbed with my hard swallow. “So … Detective Anthony—”
“Please, call me Nick.”
“Nick.” If he was here to arrest me, he wouldn’t be so informal, right? And he probably wouldn’t be smiling. Or maybe he would. My sister said some cops were assholes that way. “You know Georgia?” Ice rattled in the glass as I set his Coke on the table in front of him.
“Yeah, we were in the Academy together years ago.” He didn’t look much older than my sister. The thick stubble coating his jaw was free of gray, and dark hair peppered the corded muscles of his forearms below the rolled sleeves of his Henley. “We go out for beers once in a while. So you’re the writer. She’s told me a lot about you. You and the kids.”
I casually pulled my chair a few inches farther away before I sat down, keeping some distance between us. “Really?”
“Don’t worry. It’s all good.”
I choked on a nervous laugh. He laughed, too. But I felt his keen eyes taking in every detail of me, and it made me squirm a little. “So … you’re working a case?”
Color rushed into his cheeks, that single deep dimple making another unexpected appearance. “Yeah, right. The case. I feel a little odd about this,” he said almost shyly, “but Georgia insisted you wouldn’t mind. She thought maybe we could help each other.”
My suspicion shifted direction. Maybe this had nothing to do with Harris or Patricia. It wouldn’t be the first time Georgia had tried to set me up with one of her friends from work. I glanced at his left hand as he reached for his soda. No wedding ring. No suspicious tan line where one should have been. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Help each other how?”