Free No Neighborhood for Old Women (A Kelly O'Connell Mystery) by Judy Alter Page B

sitting close on the couch, closer than usual, and every bit of me was aware of Mike’s physical presence next to me. I felt my skin tingle, and I turned toward him, “Mike….” He shut off whatever I was going to say with a deep lingering kiss, his mouth exploring mine, his hands roaming over my body, until my hands clutched the back of his neck, pulling him close. As we both got more intense, I fleetingly thought—hoped?—that maybe he’d just pick me up and carry me upstairs to that bedroom.
    He didn’t. Instead, he glanced at his watch. “Holy Cow, Kelly! It’s nearly midnight. Let’s go relieve Claire.”
    I drew back, my emotions a tangled mess, and Mike reached for me again. “Kelly, this relationship has got to change. It’s been on hold too long.”
    “You’re right.” My voice was shaky. “I want that.” Good one, Kelly, come right out and tell the man you want to sleep with him.
    Claire was sound asleep in one of the big leather chairs when we came in, but she roused herself to ask, “Did you kids have a good time?” Without waiting for our answer, she went off to her bed. We stood in the kitchen eating molasses cookies that Claire and the girls made and laughing at each other.
    “Like two kids,” Mike said. “Finishing a date with cookies. No more wine, no coffee, no Coke. Just cookies.” And then he added, “And kisses.” And kissed me again so soundly I shook myself back to the present.
    I walked him to the door and hugged him when he put his arm around me.
    “Kelly, I think I’m in love with you. Even though you are a pain about police work.”
    “Thanks a lot,” I said. “I think I’m in love with you…but I want it made clear I’m not a pain!”
    As he left, I remembered to tell him that Em wanted a date with him, and he said, “I’ll take her for an ice cream cone sometime.”
    “You’ll have to take them both,” I warned.
    “Separately, though,” he said and waved as he walked down the flagstaff path.
    I went to bed happy but confused.
    ****
    Keisha gave me one of her long looks the next morning. It was nine-thirty before I hit the office. “You running a little late this morning?”
    “Yes, I am.” My attitude was less defensive than devil-may-care. I was happy, and I didn’t want her breaking my mood. But that’s just what she did.
    “That Mr. Conroy called. You need to call him.” She handed me a slip with the number. “He said first thing.”
    “Right away,” I said, but I was slow about settling at my desk, organizing myself for the day, and finally picking up the phone. Keisha watched my every move, and I began to consider the advantages of partitions in offices. I didn’t want to work in a cubicle—I just thought sometimes it would be helpful if she were in one.
    “Buck Conroy? Kelly O’Connell returning your call.” I left a message, grateful that he was out. But before I could hang up, I heard Buck’s voice saying “Hold on. Don’t go anywhere. I’m here.”
    “Oh.”
    “Disappointed, aren’t you?”
    “Yeah, I am.”
    “Thanks. I wanted to tell you that we discovered that Florence Dodson has two nephews. They stand to inherit under her will.”
    “Inherit what? A redo house in Fairmount and not much else?” I’d told Mike about those nephews days ago. Conroy did just find out.
    When he told me she had almost half a million in various investments and twenty thousand dollars hidden around her house, I sat back in my chair, stunned. “Really? Why was she so frugal?”
    “Beats me. Lots of old people do that. I guess they’re still saving for their old age. But I didn’t tell you this for your information or so you could proceed with your own private investigation….”
    I wanted to say something unladylike, but I didn’t. Maybe it was Keisha watching me. Now about that cubicle….
    “I want to know if you ever saw the nephews, or know anything about them.”
    “I thought I saw them come visit her occasionally or take her out