Finely Ground
Page 20
“I think I’d like that,” she replied, turning her face into the gentle wind that once again blew around them.
Epilogue
Ellie knew she was dreaming because she was perfectly content snuggled against someone warm. An arm was draped over her waist, and her back was spooned in front of a muscular body. She couldn’t see anything, leading her to believe that in her dream world, it was dark. Beyond wherever her subconscious was, the wind was howling with the unmistakable sounds of a late-fall thunderstorm. Listening to the water hit the window made her want to pull the covers up more and stay cocooned where she was. Ellie moved to burrow closer to the body with her and found it strange that in a dream, she hadn’t imagined herself in a luxurious bed with fine sheets. Instead, she could tell her knee was on the edge of a cushion, and her face felt like it was on a sofa. She couldn’t help but laugh. Ellie had always thought of herself as a no-frills kind of person, but it was odd that she couldn’t even dream something fancy.
“Stop moving,” a low, gravelly voice murmured behind her.
The voice sounded like Joe’s, which had Ellie scrambling to be sure this was a dream. She opened her eyes and strained to see something in the blackness. There was a small set of numbers—3:47—glowing blue from the cable box across the room. It was just enough to help her make out the outline of two pints of ice cream on the table in front of her.
At that point, the memory of the night before came flooding back to her. She and Joe had come back to his house after finding the box from her father. They’d celebrated with decaf coffee and splitting a pint of ice cream. After talking for an hour, he’d talked her into splitting another pint while they watched part of the movie she’d slept through the last time she came to his house. If her memories were correct to that point, it didn’t look like the western had kept her interest any better this time, because she’d fallen asleep again, and this time Joe had followed her lead.
While she tried to piece together anything else she might be missing, a ringing on the floor made it clear she wasn’t sleeping. She couldn’t remember ever getting a phone call in a dream before. Reluctantly, she leaned forward, pulling away from Joe slightly and missing his warmth immediately. She blindly grasped in the direction of the noise, and her hand found her purse, with the phone accessible in the side compartment.
She hit answer, assuming whoever it was had a good reason for waking her up and ruining what had been a wonderful rest. “Hello.”
“Ellie,” a male voice spoke, but she was too groggy to identify it and didn’t know what to say. After the silence stretched, the caller tried again. “Damn it, Ellie, wake up. This is important.”
“Phil?”
“Yes, it’s Phil,” he said, finally clearing up the mystery of who was bothering her at the ungodly hour. “Are you awake?”
Ellie gave as honest an answer as she could. “I think so. What’s going on?”
Joe’s hand pulled back to rest on her hip and rubbed soft circles there, making it difficult to concentrate on the call.
“Have you seen that neighbor of yours?”
“Not since last night at the office when he brought me to see you,” Ellie answered, wondering what Phillips had done to have Phil asking for him.
“This is important, Ellie.” Phil got her attention with his odd tone. “That girl Phillips has gone out with a few times has turned up dead…in his apartment. Obviously that makes him the prime suspect, and since nobody has seen him since he left last night, it’s even more suspicious. If you see him, I know you’re going to want to talk to him, but you have to assume something has happened and he could be dangerous. The best thing he can do is turn himself in and let us help him figure this out.”
“Phil…” Ellie began to move so she could sit up and think more clearly. “You don’t honestly think Phillips had anything to do with her death, do you?”
“I don’t get paid to think things,” Phil replied. “I get paid to find facts and connect them. Right now, every fact I’ve got is pointing to what I would have sworn wasn’t possible.” He let out an audible breath that made it clear he was struggling with this too. “Look, just promise me one thing.”
Ellie knew she’d be awake now, so she leaned back and turned on the lamp next to the sofa. She managed to keep from screaming when the light illuminated a figure leaning against the wall at the foot of the couch. Phillips looked horrible. His clothes were dirty, he was soaked, yet there was something on his hands that certainly looked like blood, and his eyes looked lost, like he was searching for something and didn’t know if he could believe it was in front of him or not.
As Ellie was taking in the sight of the man she thought she knew, Phil’s voice brought her back to reality. “…so if you see him, you have to tell me, do you understand?”
“I’ve got it,” Ellie answered and then disconnected the call.
“I can explain,” Phillips spoke as soon as Ellie put her phone down.
“I hope so, because Phil says all the evidence looks like you killed a girl in your apartment.”
He ran his hands through his hair, wiping off some of whatever had been on them. “I think I’m going to need your help.”
The End.
About the Author
Jennifer Templeman has dedicated her career to working in non-profit management. When not analyzing the minute details of a financial statement or writing a strategy document, she resides in the Boston area, and shares her life with her husband, three sons, English springer spaniel, and a brave cat rescued from a shelter. Finely Ground is her second novel, published as the sequel to A Killer Cup of Joe.
The author would love to hear from readers and can be reached at: jtempleman.idyllwoodpress@gmail.com.
Table of Contents
www.amymalkoff.com
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue