Pecked to Death by Vanessa Gray Bartal Page B

confession with Father Lucas?” Sadie asked.
     
    “He wasn’t always like this,” Hal said. He turned a speculative eye on Luke. “He’s acting odd; I’m intrigued.”
     
    “He wasn’t always like this?” Sadie repeated. “Now I’m intrigued.” She bestowed her attention on Luke. He shook his head as if shaking off water droplets.
     
    “You two are not allowed to join forces. The universe might collapse. Are you ready to go home, Sadie?”
     
    I would be if I could figure out where that is, Sadie thought. Outwardly, she plastered on a smile and nodded. “Thanks for helping a chicken down on her luck, Doc. If there’s anything I can do to repay you, let me know, as long as it doesn’t involve an exchange of actual money because I don’t have any of that.”
     
    “We could have dinner,” Hal suggested. “My treat, and I promise not to serve chicken; I don’t condone cannibalism.” Belatedly, he remembered Luke and shot him a sheepish glance. “If that’s okay with you.”
     
    “Why wouldn’t it be okay?” Luke asked. “It’s going to end in disaster as everything does when Sadie touches it, but you’re a grownup.”
     
    “Aw, Luke, you say the sweetest things,” Sadie said. “I don’t know how I stayed away from my beloved bestie for so long. It’s good to be home.”
     
    “Just get in the car, Sadie,” Luke said, pointing toward the driveway.
     
    Too tired to argue, she did as directed for once. Stopping short in the entryway, she turned and addressed Hal. “If someone died in her home, what would happen next?”
     
    “If an ambulance was called shortly after the event, then they would be taken to the hospital for an attempted revival.”
     
    “What if an ambulance wasn’t called soon?” Sadie said.
     
    “The police would be called to determine if the death was suspicious. If it wasn’t, then a family physician would sign off on it.” He smiled. “Are you planning to commit a murder?”
     
    Sadie returned his smile. “No, I’m planning to solve one.”
     

Chapter 9
     
     
    Sadie’s legs felt wobbly on the short walk to Luke’s car. She couldn’t let him see, though. Never give the enemy a foothold; wasn’t that a saying somewhere? Not that Luke was her enemy. Or was he? She stared at him as he slid behind the wheel of his boring beige sedan. How much did he really hate her? Or, as with her, was most of his bluster and hot air a cover for deeper pain? How could he know her better than anyone and yet not know her at all? That question was what drove her sometimes anger. How could he not understand her? How could he always think the worst of her? How could he of all people not be able to see behind the façade? That question more than any other made her sad.
     
    “You’re staring at me,” he said.
     
    “That’s how I know you’re a real scientist—your powers of observation are astounding.” She tore her gaze from his profile and turned to rest her throbbing head on the window instead. Who knew getting overheated could make one feel so miserable?
     
    “Why were you staring at me?” he asked.
     
    “Checking for cancerous moles. You’re in the clear. Good job with the sunscreen.”
     
    “Sadie, can you give me a straight answer for once?” Luke said. “Why can’t you ever be serious?”
     
    “You’re serious enough for both of us. The good news is that your humorectomy was a smashing success,” Sadie said. When they were kids, she had been able to cajole him into laughter or adventure and he had tempered her wild schemes and emotional meltdowns. She missed those days, missed the old Luke who didn’t scowl at her like she was something he found on the bottom of his shoe.
     
    “It’s called being an adult with responsibilities and a full-time job.”
     
    “We’re twenty eight, Luke. You can probably stop measuring yourself for a casket. You’re not tied down with a wife and kids. So you have a job. Big deal. You can still manage to