Free Turn up the Heat by Jessica Conant-Park, Susan Conant Page B

he turned his head and bit my hand. Brat! I’ve heard that when cats bite, they’re showing affection, but the people who make that claim about cats probably say the same thing about dogs. Fido didn’t mean to chomp off a chunk of your arm and send you to the hospital for three weeks! He was just trying to tell you how much he loves you.
    I heated milk in the microwave, stirred in some sugar, and filled my cup to the top with steaming coffee. Despite the horrors of the morning, I had to get focused on school. What I’d been learning in my classes told me that I was in a posttraumatic state, but I was actually more worried about Owen, Josh, and Snacker than I was about myself. What’s more, I felt guilty about having left Gavin surrounded by employees who were probably failing to provide the support he needed. But I felt worst about poor Owen, who was probably still being questioned by the police. Leandra’s body had been in his truck, so I could understand why the police were interested in him. Still, there was no other connection between Owen and Leandra. I reminded myself that I was the one who’d actually discovered her body and that, even so, the police hadn’t locked me up. Consequently, Owen would probably be released after he’d made a formal statement. Or so I hoped.
    Thinking of Owen reminded me that I needed to call Adrianna to see how she was handling the news about Leandra, Owen, and the truck. In fact, since we usually talk at least five times a day, I could hardly believe that I’d waited this long to call her. Yes, I was going to devote the entire day to studying, but a few minutes on the phone wasn’t going to interfere. Certainly not.
    Adrianna picked up after a few rings. “Hi, Chloe. How are you? God, I think I slept, like, eleven hours last night. My morning client canceled, and so now I don’t have anything until four. I might go take a nap. I swear, I’m never going to wake up until this baby comes out.”
    “Well, you sound awake now,” I said.
    “Yeah, well, I had a cup of coffee, which I haven’t done in months. My ob-gyn said it was okay to have a cup a day, but this is the first time I have, and I think it’s hitting me pretty hard. So I’m exhausted and wired at the same time. How’s the studying going?”
    “I just got home, so I haven’t started yet, but I wanted to see how you were doing.” I assumed she wasn’t thrilled to hear about her fiancé's body-in-the-truck problem.
    “How I’m doing with what?” she asked, confused. “Owen hasn’t called you?” I couldn’t believe it! What was Owen thinking? How could he possibly not have called Adrianna? He’d done nothing wrong; he was blameless. Why hadn’t he told Ade?
    Adrianna’s tone changed. “No, he hasn’t called me. What’s he done now? Quit his job and become a trapeze artist or something?”
    “No, he hasn’t quit.” I braced myself for her reaction. “Somebody died in his fish truck.”
    There was a very long pause followed by laughter so intense that Ade was in danger of pushing the baby out too early. “That’s ridiculous!” she sputtered. “In his fish truck? That’s impossible. How could anyone... Chloe, stop it. This is not funny.”
    “I’m not kidding!” I insisted. “It was Leandra. Our server at Simmer.”
    “What?” she said, gasping for breath. “Seriously? Leandra died in his truck? I thought you were joking. Did Owen find her there?”
    I told her all about our morbid discovery and finished by saying that Owen was still at the restaurant talking to the detectives. “He said he was going to call you,” I added.
    “Well, he hasn't. I haven’t heard from him all day.” Now she sounded pissed.
    “I think he was pretty worried about how you’d react.” I refrained from mentioning her hormonal state, which made her burst into tears over the smallest thing, including any reference to her hormonal state. She and Owen had had a huge fight the previous week when he’d