Free A Line To Murder (A Puget Sound Mystery) by Karla Stover Page A

filled for a moment. The majority of the soldiers had been young, personable men from the south. Isca teased them by imitating their accents, and they seemed to love it. I was beginning to learn just how empty my life was and how much worse it would be without Isca.
    Andy and I got up. He piled the napkins and cups on a tray and emptied them into the gaping jaws of a yellow and blue plastic dinosaur garbage can. Dominic saw us and left the play area.
    Meridian’s traffic had thinned down. Dominic fell asleep before we left the parking lot. Andy and I were silent. I was lost in thought. Andy sat with one arm across the back of the seat and the other propped on the window edge. He’d withdrawn. I had no desire to disturb him.
    At their house, I pulled up on the wrong side of the street so he could more easily deal with his sleeping son.
    Before he got out of the car, Andy looked at me. “Thanks for letting me come. I appreciate it.”
    “I’m glad you wanted to come. I think it made things seem more normal for Dominic.”
    “I know what you mean.” He paused and I think we were both uncomfortable.
    “Keep me posted, will you, about the police and everything? Unless something is in the paper, and you know our paper, I won’t hear anything. I want to know what’s going on.”
    “Yeah, I will.” He opened the door.
    “Do you need help with the key?”
    “No, we’re okay.” He stopped again. “Dominic thinks you’re pre tty swell, you know. I think he’s right.”
    Andy went around the car, wrestled the sleeping boy out of the backseat and carried him up the walk. Slight puffing sounded as he climbed the steps.
    Pretty swell . That was something you said to a sister. It was like a kiss on the forehead. It wasn’t better than nothing. Nothing would have been better.
    “Women are cursed, and men are the proof,” Roseanne Barr said. I can kiss Andy good-bye.
    The choice of words made me laugh . Jeez. I love it when I crack myself up. However, I followed up with a sigh as I made a U-turn and headed home.
    I was wrong. Within thirty-six hours, Andy was back in my life. He called the office early Monday morning
    “Can you meet me for lunch?”
    “Sure. That would be nice. Where?”
    “Let’s go to Creative Condiments. I need to talk to you. I think I’m about to be charged.”
     
     
    Chapter 7
     
    As it turned out, we never made it to lunch. I spent nearly an hour entering orders for a client who wanted to do some profit taking. When I called Andy’s office, he’d gone into a staff meeting. He called back, sometime around three, when I was leaving for the day. We eventually agreed to meet at his house after dinner. His idea, not mine. To meet the police’s prime suspect at his home in the evening wasn’t the smartest idea. I wrote down where I was going and slid the paper under my neighbor Dave’s door just to be safe.
    When I pulled up to the curb, Andy stood in the open front doorway, leaning against the jamb, arms crossed, staring. He wore jeans and a dark T-shirt. The light behind him cast his figure in a dark shadow. His stillness was chilling. If Dominic wasn’t around it would be the first time since we’d found Isca we would be alone, and I wasn’t a happy camper.
    Dominic liked brownies and I’d whipped up a batch after work. Their warmth seeped through the box as I went up the walk. Andy disengaged himself and watched me.
    “I thought you guys might like some brownies.” I handed him the box.
    “Thanks.” He opened it and the air filled with the aroma of chocolate. “Homemade?”
    “Home baked.”
    “There’s a difference?”
    “Yup.”
    Maybe it was the dark clothes and unsmiling face that gave Andy the foreboding air. Whatever it was, I was a little nervous.
    “I love your house,” I babbled. “What all have you done to it?”
    He stepped aside and gestured me into a small foyer. On the right, stairs went to a second floor. Halfway up, on the outside wall, was a stained glass