Double Indemnity by Maggie Kavanagh Page B

But better since the last time I saw you. I apologize for how I acted, by the way.”
    Sam wasn’t exactly sure what Nathan was apologizing for—not calling? Avoiding Sam? By now Sam had concluded his hard-on in the pool had made Nathan uncomfortable. Still, he said, “There’s no reason for you to apologize.”
    Loud construction noise jackhammered through the phone.
    â€œSorry about the commotion,” said Nathan. “I had to leave town for a couple of days on business, but I’ll be back tomorrow. Can you meet?”
    â€œYeah, sure. Where and when?”
    â€œEight o’clock at La Fronde. I’ll make the reservation.”
    â€œAre you sure you wouldn’t prefer someplace a little more casual?” La Fronde had an excellent reputation, but Sam had never been. A five-star French dinner would put him out at least a hundred bucks.
    Nathan cleared his throat. “What did you have in mind?”
    â€œMy local—the Lucky Star. It’s a little more in my price range, if you know what I mean. They have excellent burgers and fries. French fries.”
    Nathan didn’t laugh at the joke. “If you’d rather, sure, though I was planning on paying, just so you know.”
    Fuck. Had he misread this entire situation? Had Nathan asked him on a date?
    Ridiculous.
    â€œThat’s generous of you,” Sam said. “But I’ll feel more comfortable at the Star. I don’t think I even have anything to wear to such a fancy place.”
    â€œAll right, Sam. Eight o’clock tomorrow at the Star. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you then.”
    Without another word, the line went dead. Sam stood with his cell phone in his hand, staring at it as though it could explain what had just happened.
    He spent the rest of the night scouring the Internet to see if he’d missed any developments in Emma’s case over the past couple of weeks. The incident—the murder—had been fading from his mind under the avalanche of his regular worries. It had faded from the news too, it seemed. Nothing turned up. After a few newspaper mentions and an obit that Sam—thankfully—hadn’t had to write, the case disappeared from the headlines, replaced by the news du jour.
    He leaned back in his desk chair, sighed, and rubbed his temples to ward off an impending headache. Sam’s parents’ deaths had been accidental, and he still hadn’t figured out how to make it stop hurting. He couldn’t imagine living with the knowledge that a killer was on the loose, possibly never to be found.
    It would be like hell on earth.
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    A T A little before eight, Sam left his apartment to head down to the Star, hoping to get there early and station himself before Nathan arrived. Rachel was behind the bar, wearing a black leather vest. She’d streaked her Afro with purple, and it suited her. Sam sauntered up and took a seat.
    â€œHey, Rach.” He leaned forward and fished his wallet from his back pocket. “I’ll take a triple Jack on the rocks.”
    â€œIt’s Monday. Are you serious?”
    â€œI consider Monday part of the weekend. And anyway, I’m meeting a friend.”
    â€œOh, Yuri’s coming?”
    â€œI’ll have you know I have more friends than you and Yuri, thanks very much.”
    â€œOooh.” Her eyes went devilish. “A date, then.”
    â€œIt’s not a date.” In spite of himself, his cheeks warmed.
    Rachel arched an eyebrow and grabbed a pint glass. “You get Guinness.”
    The place was pretty quiet, but he recognized a couple of guys sitting at one of the high tops beyond the bar as friends of Cowboy Boots. One of them gave him the eye and smiled. Maybe old CB had given him a good report.
    By the time Nathan showed up, Sam had been nursing his beer so long it had grown warm. He knocked back the last sip with a grimace and stood up to face him.
    Nathan looked like