“I—uh?—”
She patted me again as she bustled past. “Because where you were working didn’t want you there after you changed?”
“Yes.” I was surprised how much it still stung.
A scoop of peas studded with carrots and pearl onions went on the plate. Then a scoop of what looked like sauerkraut.
I’m not really fussy about what I eat beyond the no-mammal thing. It wasn’t my usual combination of foods, but so far, so good.
“We had a potluck at church yesterday, so I have a little bit of everything,” Judy Hart told me, presumably by way of explaining the mixed grab-bag of foods being put onto my plate.
“Makes sense,” I replied. She scooped out what looked like baked beans, then put the containers back and handed me the plate.
“Sit down and I’ll bring you some silverware. What do you want to drink?”
“Oh, just water’s fine, m—Judy. Thank you.”
Silverware, a flower-pattered cloth napkin, and a glass of ice water appeared. “I haven’t had my dessert yet, but I’ll wait and join you when you’re done with the healthy stuff, if you don’t mind.” She smiled again, the expression brightening her brown eyes.
“Of course.” I didn’t mind. I was actually happy to have the distraction of listening to Judy Hart describe the fishing trip her husband was on, the church social event, even talking about when Hart and Taavi had been here over Christmas.
Well, for about a month and a half trying to solve Elliot’s dad’s murder—which I’d played a very small part in.
“Val said you helped with some evidence collection.”
“Well, I talked Hart and Detective Smith through it,” I replied. “Not that much help.”
“Val said it was very helpful—that was a key piece of DNA evidence.”
I shrugged. “Just doing my job.”
“And now you work for the police here?”
I nodded. “Yes.” Barely. One closed and one ongoing case, and I’d probably half gotten the job because I’d managed not to yarf on the crime scene, which was more than I could say for the rest of the CSI team—which was two other people—and most of the uniforms on site.
“So you work with Detective Smith now?”
“I will if it’s a homicide and not an accident, yes.” The closed case had been a fatal car crash at highway speeds involving alcohol. Consumed by both drivers.
“He volunteers with Marsh sometimes at Habitat,” Judy told me, and then I got a full run-down of all the good work Habitat for Humanity was doing in Shawano and Menominee Counties.
That took us both through dessert—several very large, very gooey cookies that she told me had been made with margarine instead of butter, so they were safe for me to eat.
I was actually full by the time I finished helping Judy dry the dishes. I didn’t usually let myself get really full because I was always trying not to eat too much of other people’s food—but clearly Judy wanted to feed me, and since it was making her happy, I wasn’t going to refuse.
She smiled at me and took the towel from my hands. “You should get yourself some rest before work tomorrow,” she told me. “And I’m up past my early-bird bedtime!” Then she laughed. “Thank you for the company.”
“Thankyoufor the food,” I told her. “And the conversation.”
She patted my arm again. “You’re sweet. Sleep well.” And then she headed upstairs, and I turned and went back down to my futon.
And proceeded not to sleep much at all.
11
Elliot Crane
Where are you?
