“But as a member of the press,” she said, as he finished his coffee and carried his empty cup to the sink, “I could use some information. And you were on the phone last night.” She’d tried to overhear the conversation, but the door to his office had remained firmly closed as he’d made and received calls. All of which she surmised were about the homicide of Billy Huber. When she’d asked him about the calls as he’d slipped into bed, he’d tersely explained that Huber’s dog had somehow escaped the animal control officer and was nowhere to be found. That was the extent of information he was willing to impart.
But then he’d taken her into his arms and begun kissing her, and for the time being she’d let herself be carried away in a heated, passionate, and emotional wave of lovemaking. Afterward, Pierce had kissed her forehead, rolled over, and begun lightly snoring almost immediately.
Not so for Nikki. She’d tossed and turned all night, wondering what had happened to Billy Huber. Who had killed him and why? That was the crux of the mystery. If, indeed, Billy had been the victim of homicide, which seemed likely because of Pierce’s involvement.
Then there was Huber’s dog. Why had the animal control officer been so careless? Where was it now? She’d worried about the dog all night, and what little information she’d pried from Pierce this morning hadn’t eased her mind or abated her curiosity.
Now Pierce interrupted her thoughts. “The last I heard, you were an independent reporter these days.”
“Still a member of the press.” She took a sip of her now-tepid coffee, then set the cup down.
“Technically, yes, but you’re not on the staff of theSentinel.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” she demanded, then to her daughter, “Chloe, stop that. Mikado doesn’t need Cheerios.”
“He likes them!” Chloe was delighted by the dog’s attention.
“If you want to know more, as a member of the press,” Pierce said, “just call the station. Talk to the PIO about the case.”
She rolled her eyes as he found his keys on a side table. The new public information officer, Vivian Johnson, was professional and oh-so tight-lipped.
Unfortunately, Pierce was right. From the moment she’d discovered she was pregnant with Chloe, Nikki had given up working at the office, had gone freelance completely, and even stopped writing true-crime books. As she’d suffered a series of miscarriages, she’d been over-the-top in following her doctor’s instructions and had decided to turn in her resignation. She’d told herself she needed R and R, though the inactivity about drove her out of her mind. She’d never been one to sit still for long. Athletic and curious to a fault, intrigued by any kind of mystery, she couldn’t stand lying at home with her feet up, trying to occupy her mind with watching television, scrolling through the Internet, or reading on a chaise by a pool. She needed action. Excitement. Mental stimulation.
Crossword puzzles, Sudoku, knitting, and the like were all fine and good, but just not enough. Nonetheless, she’d gritted her teeth, forced herself to slow down, and indulged herself in crime dramas streaming on television, listening to true-crime podcasts, and expanding her cooking repertoire, as well as spending more time with her sister Lily and niece Ophelia, “Phee,” and yes, even her mother. During the nine months of her pregnancy, Nikki had done everything by the book, andvoilà, Chloe had been born without any complications. So worth it, but could she do it again? She wasn’t sure. Pierce was pressuring her about a sibling for their daughter, but Nikki wasn’t convinced they needed to add another baby into the mix. For the moment, she was repeating the mantra “One and done.” It sounded good right now, though she wasn’t one to say “never.”
Now, Pierce bent over the high chair and kissed the top of his daughter’s head. Chloe turned her face upward, big eyes bright, apple cheeks creasing as she giggled. “Daddy!”
“That’s me.” And despite the fact that she had milk smeared all over her face, he picked her up from the chair and hugged her. “Who’s my girl?”
Her green eyes twinkled. “Mama your girl.”
“That’s right, imp, she is, but who’s my other girl?”
“Mikado,” she said, teasing, showing off her baby teeth, wrinkling her nose in pride at her joke.
Pierce pointed out, “Mikado’s a boy.”
“Like you!”
“Exactly. And, silly, it’s you.You’remy girl.” He gave her a squeeze, and she tossed back her head and laughed gleefully.
“You my boy!” she said.
“You got that right, but right now your boy has to head to the office.”
“No, you stay!” she insisted as Nikki drained her cup, then scraped her chair back, arms outstretched for the handoff as Pierce passed his daughter into her arms.
“Gotta work,” he explained.
“It’s Sunday,” Nikki protested, and Pierce arched an eyebrow.
“There’s a possible homicide, and when did the weekend ever stop you from working when you were on the trail of a hot story?”
“Fine.”
“I’ll see both my girls later,” he promised. While Chloe squirmed, he pressed a kiss onto Nikki’s cheek before striding out the door.
Seconds later, Nikki heard the rumble of the garage door opening and the sound of Pierce’s Jeep’s engine sparking to life.