Razing the Dead by Sheila Connolly

at each other. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said quietly.
    Lissa was watching us with some amusement. “So, Agent Morrison, Marty tells me you’re her cousin?” she said, shifting conversational gears. As well she should, for all our sakes.
    â€œYes, but don’t ask me to explain how,” James said. We all laughed, then kept the conversation on lighter topics and away from murder.
    Our pizzas appeared and we dug in happily. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, but everything tasted good. It was full dark when we finally emerged from the restaurant, and we hadn’t worked out who was going where. I had said I wanted some alone time at my house—but that was before we’d stumbled into another murder. But now there was Lissa to consider. So I saw three choices: James took me home and deposited me on my doorstep, then took Lissa back to the city; the three of us crashed at my place, which would definitely be a strain on my hospitality; or we stuck Lissa on a late train and had some personal time together, which seemed kind of unfair to Lissa, who had seen the same body that I had and had every right to be upset. Why did all this have to be so complicated?
    In the end, James made the decision. “Let me take you home, Nell, and then I’ll take Lissa back with me. Where do you live, Lissa?”
    â€œNear Penn,” she said. “But I could take a train.”
    James brushed off her offer. “That’s near me, so it’s no bother. Nell, does that work for you?”
    What could I do but agree? I’d asked for space, and I was going to get it. “That’s fine.”
    Late in the evening, it took no more than half an hour to reach my house. I got out of the car and was surprised when James did, too. “I’ll walk you to your door,” he said.
    The door was ten feet away. But it was dark. I hadn’t been home in ages, so I’d left no lights on. James took my arm and guided me to it, and waited while I found my keys. Then he looked at me and said softly, “You all right?”
    I nodded. “Yes. It wasn’t . . . awful, and I didn’t know the man. Maybe I’m getting jaded, after what we’ve been through. But thanks for asking.”
    James leaned in and kissed me, the kiss gentle, warm. Then he broke it off, sooner than I might have liked. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
    â€œHey, are you all right yourself? First case and all? Maybe, since I’m in the middle of it, you should step back?”
    â€œThat doesn’t worry me—and it has nothing to do with us, right? You’re just a bystander this time. Good night, Nell.” He turned and went back to his car, and like a schoolgirl I watched as he drove off until I could no longer see him.
    Then I let myself in to my dark, empty house. It was very quiet, and once I turned on the lights I could see it was also rather dusty. When had I last spent any time there? Weeks, at least. I stalked to the tiny kitchen and opened the refrigerator: pathetic. I filled a glass with peach iced tea and wandered around while I drank it.
    I could have gone with James and Lissa, back to the city, back to James’s apartment. Why hadn’t I? Did I value my independence more than my relationship with a great guy? Where would that leave me in forty years? Sure, there were no guarantees in life, and an FBI agent was always in danger, more or less—as I knew only too well. But being scared of possible negative outcomes in the distant future was a stupid reason to avoid living life in the now.
    Well, I’d said yes to finding a place together, hadn’t I? Okay, maybe it was a qualified, halfhearted sort of yes, but it was still a yes. He understood—I thought. Now all we had to do was find a place that made us both happy—and I had no idea what that would be.
    I took that much-needed shower and went to bed. Alone.

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