Free Dial Om for Murder by Diana Killian Page B

dreams.”
    “His nightmares,” A.J. retorted. “It’s like I’m a magnet for murder.”
    “ That should be a plus. Doesn’t he care about career advancement?”
    “Ha.” She picked up her menu. “I must say Nick seems to have trained you very well.”
    Andy’s smile dimmed. “Yeah,” he said, and picked up his own menu.
    “One thing I think we can rule out,” A.J. said. “I don’t think Jane Peters is the mysterious Lydia Thorne. She didn’t bat an eyelash when I suggested that was her name.”
    “You’re good,” Andy approved. “ That thought hadn’t occurred to me.”
    “I’m cynical. It’s the first thing I thought of,” A.J. said. “Having an online persona isn’t in itself sinister, but whoever Lydia Thorne really is, her feelings about Nicole—good or bad—weren’t normal.”
    “I don’t know—”
    “She was obsessed with Nicole.”
    “You said yourself that’s kind of what fandom is. And Nicole obviously didn’t get the wrong vibe from Lydia. They were friends for years, right?”
    A.J. laid her menu aside. “ That’s because Nicole was totally absorbed in Nicole. So it probably seemed normal to her that Lydia was, too. But those negative reviews you showed me—those are creepy. They weren’t about Nicole’s work, they were about Nicole—and Lydia’s feelings for her—and I’m telling you that level of hostility isn’t normal.”
    “We could try calling her,” Andy suggested.
    “What is your fascination with calling this Thorne woman?”
    “It seems like a logical step. If nothing else it might eliminate her, right? And we could rest easy.”
    “I’m resting fine as it is.” Mostly, anyway.
    Andy ignored that. “I checked my day planner this morning. I do still have a number for her. It might not be good, but . . .”
    “You should have immediately handed that number over to Jake. Why didn’t you?”
    Andy raised his brows at A.J.’s tone. “Because he’ll have her number from Nicole’s files, right? He’s got access to all Nicole’s information, and, if anything, Nicole’s information will be more up-to-date than mine.”
    “So? I’m not following your line of reasoning.”
    Andy said casually, “Well, if this number is still good, there’s a chance that Lydia might return a phone call from us whereas the police might scare her off.”
    A.J. opened her mouth but was forestalled by the arrival of the waitress. They ordered their meals—pistachio-crusted salmon for A.J. and ribeye steak for Andy—the waitress departed, and A.J. said, “Andrew Belleson, I’m warning you now. I’m not getting involved in another murder investigation.”
    “Really? What was the deal with me running out to the parking lot to scope out license plates while you pretended to be an autograph hound?”
    “ That was a fluke, our running into Jane Peters,” A.J. said heatedly. “And you’ll notice I turned that information straight over to Jake. I’m not going to play amateur sleuth again. It almost wrecked my relationship with him the first time.”
    “So it’s serious with you and Robocop. I knew it.” He was smiling, genuinely pleased for her, which vaguely nettled.
    “It’s not serious. Not yet. Actually, I have no idea what it is—but I don’t want it ruined before I’ve had a chance to screw it up in the ordinary way.”
    “He should be so lucky.” Andy thought that over. “And I mean that as a compliment.”
    “Uh . . . thanks.”
    “Anyway, if he cares about you, he won’t want you to squelch your inner girl detective.”
    “I don’t have an inner girl detective. I was just . . . in the wrong place at the wrong time before.”
    Andy tsk-tsked. Really, how the hell had A.J.—for ten years—missed the fact that he was gay? She simply could not imagine Jake tsk-tsking if his life depended on it.
    “Don’t do that. You know it bugs me. And for your information, sleuthing can be hazardous to your health. My health, in this case.”
    Andy sighed.