Free Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 04 - Chocolate Mousse Attack by Sally Berneathy Page B

block. Even Fred can’t find any evidence Carolyn ever existed.”
    I probably shouldn’t have said even Fred . Trent’s eyes narrowed. The two of them are friends in a distant, removed sort of way. Well, maybe not friends so much as friendly . Connected through me. Trent’s not always comfortable with how Fred does things, especially when he has no idea how Fred does things. But he can speculate, and he’s pretty sure Fred doesn’t always go through proper channels. Again with the overly moral stuff.
    “We talked to the guy who owned Fred’s house,” I said. “He says it sat vacant for the five years he owned it.” I told him about Dr. Daniel Jamison and his reactions when I mentioned Sophie’s family and Carolyn. “We don’t believe him. He’s a doctor, a plastic surgeon, so he has money now. But he said he was in medical school during that time, and med students are usually broke. You think he could have got a student loan big enough to pay for a murder? No, probably not.” I stuffed another piece of pizza into my mouth to keep it from saying something else silly.
    Trent smiled. Most of the time he looks fierce and intimidating. A job requirement. But when he smiles, he looks like a mischievous little boy. I always kind of melt when he does that. “ You seem to be forgetting the big glitch in your theory. We have no proof anybody was murdered.”
    I grinned. I couldn’t help it in the presence of that smile even though we were talking about murder. “You know what your problem is, Detective Adam Trent? You get hung up on the tiniest little details.”
    He laughed. I laughed. We ate more pizza.
    *~*~*
    I was sleeping peacefully with Trent’s arms wrapped around me when Henry leapt off the bed and charged over to the window, growling deep in his throat.
    “I thought you said Rick was in Hawaii,” Trent mumbled sleepily, his breath warm on my neck.
    I looked at the clock. Just after two a.m. “It’s only Sophie making her nightly trek to Fred’s house. Go back to sleep.”
    Apparently Henry thought I was talking to him. He leapt back onto the foot of the bed, yawned and closed his eyes.
    But Trent was awake. “I’ve got to see this.” He rose and strode over to the window , giving me a really nice view of his really nice butt in the moonlight.
    “You’re right,” he said, his attention focused on the street. “She looks like a ghost, gliding across the street in that white gown. Fred must have been expecting her. He opened the door as soon as she walked onto the porch. She’s going inside. Fred, you dog! Oh, they’re both coming out again . He’s walking her to her house.” He turned around and headed back to bed. “You’re right. That’s downright creepy. That woman has definitely had some trauma in her life.”
    I opened my arms to him. “So have I. My boyfriend just left me in the middle of the night to watch another woman. He’s going to have to figure out a way to make me feel wanted again.”
    Trent smiled and settled into bed beside me. “I accept the challenge.”
    Things were just getting interesting when Henry suddenly made a jungle-cat noise, shot out of bed and over to the window and continued to snarl.
    Trent stopped what he was doing. Damn. “Sophie again?”
    “No, he doesn’t snarl at her. Maybe it’s the white car again.”
    “The white car? What white car?”
    My front doorbell rang.
     

 
    Chapter Eight
     
    Trent sat bolt upright and frowned. “You’re sure Rick’s in Hawaii?”
    I shrugged. “I’m never sure of anything where he’s concerned. He said he was going, but he hasn’t sent me any pictures of the ocean and palm trees.”
    “Stay here.” Trent was out of bed, into his blue jeans and out the door with gun in hand before I got my shorts zipped. That took a little longer. If my pants are ever loose enough I can zip them easily, I buy a smaller size.
    Henry made it downstairs first with Trent close behind. I was halfway down when he reached the