Free Hex on the Ex by Rochelle Staab Page A

wasn’t even aware that Laycee was in town. She went to the game with Kyle last night. I can’t imagine how or why she ended up alone at Jarret’s.” I stopped myself. Sure I knew. Laycee liked a good time and Jarret needed a distraction from his colossal loss at the game.
    “Maybe the three of them went to Jarret’s and partied after the game,” Nick said.
    “Possible. Kyle didn’t come to the gym this morning so maybe he
was
at the house late, but—”
    “But what?”
    “I only saw two glasses on the counter.”
    Nick drew back. “What do you mean,
you saw
?”
    “I went to Jarret’s this morning to—”
    “This morning? What time?”
    “While Jarret was out on his run. I stopped by to pick up that box.” I pointed to the carton in the living room. “I didn’t go beyond the kitchen. I saw the glasses by the sink.”
    “My God.” Nick buried his forehead in his hands. “You may have been in the house with the killer. What if he saw you?”
    The realization bolted through my body like lightning. I wrapped my arms around my waist and rocked. “I didn’t see anyone. I was in and out of that house in less than five minutes.”
    “It’s okay, Liz. I’m sure you’re—”
    “I had no idea Laycee was there.”
    “Take a breath.” Nick pulled me in close, his chin resting on top of my head. “I’m getting the sense I should follow you around more.”
    “Thanks, but I don’t need a babysitter.”
    “Not what I had in mind at all.” He kissed the top of my head.
    I leaned back and looked up at his face. “Bodyguard?”
    “Something like that but with benefits—”
    “Benefits? As in
ever after
benefits?”
    “No…I mean…well…” Nick let me go and held out his wrist, making a grand show of checking the time. “I should get going. I want to stop at the UCLA library again and try to track down the symbol. Let’s get together tonight and talk.”
    “About murder or…?”
    “I’ll let you know if I find anything at the library.” Nickwasn’t the type to squirm but when he did, he was kind of adorable at it. First, he reached to Erzulie purring at his side and scratched her between the ears before he stood to leave. On the way through the living room he mumbled something about library hours. At the door, carefully avoiding eye contact, he kissed me good-bye then hustled out. Fast.
    I wasn’t ready for ever after either.
    The last box of books waited by the fireplace, ready to be unpacked. Great, something to do while I waited for Dave to return my call. I headed for the den and as I reached to turn up the TV volume, the phone rang again. Hopefully Dave. Probably Mom. Or Marion Cooper. I took my cell off the coffee table, glancing at the small screen. Area code 818—the Valley, and not a number I knew. I answered, hesitant.
    “Liz Cooper?” The female voice on the phone sounded vaguely familiar. “This is Carla Pratt, LAPD. Do you remember me?”
    I wandered to the window, nerves tightening my throat. “Of course I remember you, Carla. How are you?”
    “Your name came up in a homicide investigation I’m working on. I’m hoping you can help me with some information. Can we meet this evening?”
    “What kind of information?”
As if I didn’t know.
    “A few background points. Where can we meet?”
    Instinct warned me to pick neutral territory. I didn’t want Carla nosing around my house for any reason. “There’s a café called Aroma on Tujunga Avenue south of Moorpark. I can meet you there at seven.”
    She agreed and we hung up. As soon as I clicked off the call, I dialed Dave again.
    When he answered I said, “Don’t you return your calls? Do you know what’s going on?”
    “I return my calls in order of priority and, by the way, calls for the job come first. You’re third on my social list after Robin and the folks.”
    “Good to hear I slipped in rank to number three. Doesn’t blood mean anything in this family?”
    “Between my job and your friends, blood