Free A Brew to a Kill by Cleo Coyle Page B

cliff.
     
    Fire and ice,
I thought,
summer and winter, day and night, life and death.
The alliance of opposites was an elemental part ofhuman existence. Even a simple cup of coffee was both calming and bracing—
not unlike my relationship with Matt,
I couldn’t help musing.
     
    The odd Detective Buckman was an equally apt comparison with his “Highway Houdini” voice, a purr so ironically pushy in its mission to pacify that I could still hear his words echoing through my stressed-out system.
     
    “Relax, Clare… relax…”
     
    “This thing with Lilly Beth…” Matt interrupted.
     
    My eyes shut tighter. “It’s horrible.”
     
    “I travel in countries where stop signs are treated like suggestions, but I’ve never seen a pedestrian run down in the street like Lilly was tonight. What a god-awful accident.”
     
    I opened my eyes. “Except it wasn’t.”
     
    “What?”
     
    “He said it wasn’t an accident.”
     
    “
Who
he? Not that clown with the DIY bandoliers?”
     
    “Buckman’s not a clown. The man’s so serious, he’s almost scary. And he and his Motor Head Mad Scientists think this van-wielding maniac may have meant to hit Lilly.”
     
    “How can they tell?”
     
    “When most drivers realize they’re hitting a human being, they brake. That’s why cops find skid marks somewhere near the point of impact. But the driver who hit Lilly didn’t brake. The only skid marks Buckman found were far away—the result of the van’s squealing fast start-up.”
     
    “So this bastard accelerated, hit Lilly, and kept going?”
     
    “Does that sound like an ‘accident’ to you?”
     
    “It doesn’t make sense, Clare. Who’d want to run over an adorable little Filipina dietician? Unless…” Matt fell silent, scratched his furry face. “Maybe she’s too adorable.”
     
    “What do you mean?”
     
    “I’m thinking jilted boyfriend, angry ex. Didn’t your favorite flatfoot say crimes of passion were at the top of his charts?”
     
    “Buckman wondered about that, too, but Lilly has no boyfriend or husband. And last I checked, Quinn’s feet have arches. High ones.”
     
    “Do I look like a podiatrist?”
     
    “No, but you called him a flatfoot, and his shoes are bigger than yours, so if I were you, I wouldn’t bring up Quinn’s feet. You know what they say about a man’s shoe size.”
     
    Matt smirked. “You really want to compare what’s in his Oxfords to what’s in my boxers?”
     
    “We were talking about
Lilly Beth
.”
     
    “Who you claim has no love life whatsoever?” Matt folded his muscular arms. “The way she was flirting with me, I find that hard to believe.”
     
    “She was just trying to be persuasive. I asked her to help me sway you to get behind our truck. And as far as Lilly’s love life, I spoke to a good friend of hers on the phone earlier. Terry said Lilly’s had a couple of boyfriends over the past few years but nothing serious and nothing lately.”
     
    “How lately is lately?”
     
    “I don’t know. We didn’t talk very long. She was anxious to get to the hospital. But, like I said, Lilly never mentioned any relationship troubles to me, or any threats. From what I’ve seen, she’s warm and generous, a loving mother and a beautiful human being—inside and out. I can’t imagine who’d think the planet would be a better place with Lilly off it.”
     
    Matt exhaled. “The National Pork Producers Council, maybe?”
     
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
     
    “Nothing… it’s just the way she talked about Kaylie Crimini’s Maple-Bacon and Three Little Piggies cupcakes, it had a very Mothers Against Drunk Driving tone to it.”
     
    “Well, you’re not wrong about her zealousness. She’s dedicated herself to reversing the increase of type two diabetes in children, especially among low-income and minority communities.”
     
    “Okay, so she’s a good mother, a great person—but also a health professional on a mission. And