Free Yesterday's Echo by Matt Coyle

but not with the essence of Melody lingering in my empty bed.
    Game over. I wouldn’t try to track her down this time. Fool me once, fool me twice. There were only two strikes in this game. I got up to let Midnight outside.
    The smell hit me as soon as I left the bedroom.
    Pancakes. A whole new ballgame.
    Melody stood next to the stove barefoot in my T-shirt, hair in a ponytail. Breakfast never looked so good. I wrapped my arms around her tight belly and kissed her neck. She purred. I could get used to that.
    â€œSmells fantastic,” I said.
    â€œI told you I have skills.”
    â€œYes, even in the kitchen.”
    I grabbed Midnight’s bowl and filled it with dog food from the bag in the broom closet. After he’d chomped down his breakfast, I let him out and then went and got dressed. It was Turk’s turn to open Muldoon’s, so I had the day to myself. And Melody.
    Breakfast was waiting for me when I returned to the kitchen.Steaming pancakes, melting butter, and Vermont maple syrup from my pantry. I sat down and noticed there was only one plate.
    â€œYou’re not eating?” I asked.
    â€œI’m going to get dressed first.”
    â€œNot on my account.”
    â€œThen on mine.” She smiled. “Your skillet only has room for three pancakes at a time, anyway. I’ll get the next batch.”
    She lingered at the table waiting for me to take a bite. I did and fell in love.
    â€œYou weren’t lying about your skills. These are fantastic!” I rubbed my thumb and fingers together. “There’s a layered richness to them.”
    â€œI used brown sugar instead of white.” She bounced slightly on her toes. “Glad you like them. I’ll be right back.”
    I finished my pancakes and dropped three dollops of batter down onto the cast-iron skillet Melody had pulled down from my pot rack. I had them flipped and on a plate for Melody by the time she returned. She wore the same jeans and green blouse that she’d had on only briefly last night. A touch of makeup around her left eye covered the residue of the fist to the face her source had given her two nights ago.
    She complimented me on the flapjacks, making it seem like I’d been the genius behind the batter. After we’d each polished off six, we pushed aside empty plates and lolled, full bellied, at the kitchen table.
    â€œRick.” Melody’s eyes dropped to the bleached-oak kitchen table before they met mine. “I’m flying back to San Francisco today.”
    â€œOkay.” Well, we’d always have pancakes.
    â€œI’m filling in on the anchor desk.” She almost sounded apologetic. “It’s a great career opportunity.”
    â€œThat’s great.” I tried to sound sincere. I don’t think I pulled it off.
    I was happy for her, but sad for myself. Melody had a careerand deserved success. But, I had finally met someone who made me remember what life could be like before Santa Barbara.
    â€œThis isn’t the end, Rick.” She reached for my hand across the table. “It’s the beginning.”
    Midnight’s growl from the backyard sounded right before a loud knock on the front door. I thought about letting him in to play bodyguard. But I headed out of the kitchen alone. I didn’t think the tough guys after Melody would make another play in the middle of suburbia while the sun was up.
    I opened the door and realized that I’d been thinking about the wrong tough guys.

Muldoon’s
C HAPTER N INE
    Dan Coyote and Tony Moretti stood together crowding my porch with their police presence. If given a choice between them and the two hard guys, I might have gone the other way. They flashed their badges like we were all strangers. I wished we were.
    â€œMr. Cahill, we have a few questions we’d like to ask you involving a police investigation.” Moretti’s voice had none of yesterday’s contempt in it. I liked the