Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

There was nothing like a little merry murder to dampen spirits during the holiday season, and dampen them, they had. As the chatter about Claire’s death made its way around town over the last week, the festive feel faded. Even the air seemed gloomy, thick like lead.

I’d just exited the police department and was making my way to my car when I heard someone say, “Hey, Georgiana, wait up.”

I turned to see Whitlock heading in my direction.

Decades before, he’d worked as a detective alongside my father. When he retired, life wasn’t as exhilarating as he’d thought it would be, so when a position opened up at the San Luis Obispo Police Department a couple of years back, he jumped at the opportunity to get back into the action.

“Hey,” I said. “I was going to stop by your office, but Foley’s not too happy with me right now. I didn’t want to hang around and make things worse.”

“Yeah, I … ahh, I just ran into him.”

“Did he tell you about the case I’ve taken?”

“Yup. The first words out of his mouth, in fact.”

“He’s never spoken to me like he did just now. I feel like I’ve damaged our friendship.”

Whitlock reached out, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “You’re being too hard on yourself. Give it some time. He’ll come around.”

“You think so? He told me he was disappointed in me.”

“People say all kinds of kooky things when they get their panties in a bunch. He’s no different. It’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”

“You seem to be fine with me taking the Cooperson case.”

Whitlock glanced over his shoulder, then back at me. “Yeah, speaking of the case, I was hoping we could talk about it.”

“I’m guessing you want to do it somewhere else, not here, right?”

“You know me all too well. I was thinking we grab some lunch and go somewhere we won’t run into any corn?”

“ Corn ?”

“You know, ears … ears of corn. People listening in. Get it?”

He smacked a hand against his leg, laughing at his own joke.

I couldn’t help but join him.

“We can go to my place,” I said. “Giovanni will be there, but I feel like he’s an acceptable variety of corn.”

“The finest of varieties, yes, and it will be nice to catch up with your fiancé. What do you fancy for lunch? It’s my treat.”

“I’m feeling comfort food, something simple. How about grilled cheese sandwiches and soup?”

He tipped his head toward me and nodded. “I believe I can make that happen. I’ll meet you at your place in an hour.”