by Kris Tualla
“My… pleasure?” she replied.
Fred smiled, reached into the pocket of his jacket, and retrieved a business card. “In case it doesn’t work out.”
Hollis’s phone vibrated in her hip pocket. She grabbed the card and smiled.
“Thanks.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Leaving Flagstaff. Braving the snow.
Hollis shoved her phone back in her pocket without answering Matt’s text. It was only six-thirty, but she had just escorted the Exor-Clergy guys out the back door. Time to secure the building and head for home.
“Will Matt expect to see you tonight?” Sveyn asked as they walked to her car.
“Probably,” she admitted. “But it’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
Good question. “Because I don’t want him to think I’m just waiting here with nothing else going on.”
“Why not?”
Hollis rounded on the Viking. “Because he needs to work on getting me back. I’m not a sure thing.”
Sveyn smiled. “I am very glad to hear that.”
“Oh, hush.” Hollis unlocked her car. “What do you want to taste for dinner?”
Sveyn thought a moment. “Fish?”
“Sushi?” Hollis’s mood brightened at the thought.
“What sort of fish is a sushi?” the Viking asked.
“It’s not a fish—it’s how the fish are prepared.” She grinned as she started her car. “It’s mostly raw.”
“Dried? Salted?” Sveyn nodded. “I know these methods.”
“Sure.” Hollis shifted in reverse. “Let’s go with that.”
*****
Hollis texted Matt back while waiting for her sushi to be made: On my way home from work with takeout. Crazy day.
She watched her screen and waited, hoping he wouldn’t text back while he was driving. She smiled her relief when the auto-reply I’m driving pinged back.
Sveyn was wandering through the sushi bar’s prep space, clearly fascinated by the variety of fish, shellfish, and flavor-enhancing additions.
“Let’s go,” she said quietly as she accepted her order.
Sveyn reached her car the same time that she did. “I have never seen fish prepared this way.”
“It’s Japanese. And it’s only become popular in America in the last couple decades or so.” Hollis smiled. “We tend to be overly cautious about our food preparation.”
He nodded. “Yes, I have seen the words on the menus that warn about eating raw or undercooked food.”
Hollis changed into her pajamas before eating her supper. She opened a bottle of pinot grigio and sat at the dining table, spreading the options out on a plate and pouring a saucer of wine.
“You can taste whatever you want,” she offered.
Sveyn chuckled. “And then you will throw it away?”
She felt herself blushing. “No. I think I’m over that. I’ll eat it after you taste it. I just won’t watch.”
Hollis focused on her meal, allowing Sveyn full rein with his experimentation. For the most part, his expression was pensive—until he stuck his tongue into the spoonful of wasabi.
“Ahh!” He jerked back. “What sort of vile poison is this?”
Hollis laughed. “A taste-killing one. It’s meant to be used in moderation.”
“I can understand why!” Sveyn leaned over and laid his abused tongue in the saucer of chilled wine.
Hollis stared at the top of his head. “Does that help?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Sveyn—do you feel temperature?”
He raised his head and looked at her. His pupils were dilated with shock, turning his eyes into black pools rimmed in light blue. “I—perhaps. Either that or the fermented wine has an effect on the poison.”
“It’s not poison, it’s just strong. But that’s beside the point.” Hollis rested her fists on the tabletop. “You felt the sting and the wine took it away?”
The Viking sat up straight and wiped his mouth. “Yes.”
“How?”
“I don’t—”
The doorbell rang.
Sveyn’s brow lowered. “Are you expecting someone?”
Hollis’s shoulders drooped. “Oh, no.”
“Matt?”
“Has to be.”
Sveyn shrugged. “Will you answer it?”
Hollis stood, smoothing her cotton-knit pajamas and pulling the pony-tail tie from her hair. “I have to.”
She walked to the door as the person on the other side backed up the doorbell with a sharp knock. Before she opened the door she peeked through the viewer.
Yep. It was Matt.
Hollis drew a breath, held it, then opened the door. “Hi!”
When a gust of cold air hit her, she curled her bare toes and wrapped one arm over her pajamas to hide her body’s braless response. “I wasn’t expecting you to come by. Obviously.”
A tired-looking but still devastatingly handsome Matt grinned at her. “I couldn’t wait to see you. Can I come in?”
“Oh! Yes.” Hollis stepped out of the way and closed the door after he came through. “I was just finishing supper.”
She followed him past the kitchen, dragging her fingers through her annoying curls in an attempt to pull her appearance together. “I have sushi and white wine. You want some?”
“Sure.” Matt took off his jacket and laid it over Sveyn. “I had dinner in Flagstaff, but that was a couple hours ago. I could snack.”
The Viking moved through the coat and stood. “I will wait over here.” He walked to the sofa and sat, his face oddly blank and his hands clasped in his lap.
Hollis returned to the kitchen and grabbed a second wine glass and plate. “If you’d told me you were coming over, I’d be more presentable.”
Matt picked up one sushi roll with his fingers. “If I’d told you I was coming over, you’d have said no.” He popped the roll into his mouth.
Hollis poured the wine. “Do you want ice?”
Matt chuckled. “No! Are you still doing that?”
Hollis’s cheeks heated and she handed him the iceless wine. “I live in a desert. Everyone does that.”
“I highly doubt it, Hollis.” Matt accepted the plate and served himself several rolls. “This is really good sushi.”
“Have some wasabi,” Sveyn suggested from the couch. “A lot of it.”
Hollis barely stopped herself from telling the apparition to be quiet. She corked the wine instead.
“How far is it to your place?” she asked, sliding into her seat across from Matt.
Dang but his eyes were amazing. Bloodshot from three long days of driving, the redness only enhanced the gold streaks in his rusty brown irises.
“Five miles, I think.”
Oh, right. I asked a question. “Do you already have the key?”
Matt reached into his pocket and pulled out a keychain. “I have two.” He laid it on the table and slid it toward her. “This one is yours.”
Hollis picked up the gaudy sparkly-heart-designed bauble. “Um, thanks.”
“I bought that at a truck stop so I wouldn’t lose the second key.” Matt smiled. “You don’t need to keep it.”
She set it back on the table. “It’s fine for now.” Whether I keep it depends on the next several weeks.
“So… Christmas.”
Hollis blinked. “What about it?”
Matt suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Do you have plans? With anyone?”
“Yes—I mean no.” Hollis shook her head. “I do have plans but you’re invited to join us.”
Matt’s features twisted. “The Captain won’t mind?”
Hollis startled. “Oh, no. Not with him.” She glanced at Sveyn, then returned her determined gaze to Matt. “He’s… out of town.”
“So you and he are still together?”
“Yes,” was the easiest answer.
Matt lifted another roll to his mouth. “Tell me about these plans, then.” He bit i
nto the sushi. Bits of rice tumbled to his plate.
“Miranda is hosting like she did at Thanksgiving, but with a smaller group.” Hollis refilled his wine without him asking. “Of course, if you had something else in mind, she’ll understand.”
Matt shook his head. “I wasn’t certain I’d be able to see you. I’d love to be your Christmas date at Miranda’s.”
“Great.” Hollis poured the rest of the wine into her own glass. “There’ll be a white elephant exchange there, but let’s not do personal presents.”
“Too late.”
Hollis set the empty wine bottle down harder than she intended to. “Matt…”
He put both hands up in surrender. “I bought it two weeks ago. And you are under no obligation to reciprocate.”
Hollis was pleased, but refused to admit it. “I won’t. I don’t have any time to shop in the next three days.”
“Understood.” Matt rose to his feet. “And I need to go before I collapse.”
“Dinner tomorrow?” Hollis suggested before he suggested lunch. Her heart was already warming to Matt much faster than was safe. She stood as well. “I can meet you somewhere.”
“Great. I’ll text you once I’ve explored my new surroundings.” He walked to the door, then turned to face her.
Hollis tilted her face upward a little. At six feet, Matt was half-a-foot shorter than Sveyn, so her neck was less pinched when she looked into his eyes.
Her heart thumped with realization.
He’s going to kiss me.
And he did.
Matt was always a good kisser, but when he had an agenda to achieve and a point to make, he was truly exceptional. Hollis grabbed his arms to keep her balance as his tongue tangled with hers. His warm breath tickled her cheek, contrasting with the scrape of his unshaven chin.
When he pulled away, her eyelids felt too heavy to open.
“Good night, Hollis,” he whispered, his knuckle lifting her chin. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Hollis closed the door behind him and leaned her forehead against it. She was in deep already, and falling farther fast.
What the hell am I going to do?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tuesday
December 22
Hollis called Stevie into her office first thing the next morning and shut the door. “I need a huge favor.”
“Good morning, Stevie. How are you today?” her friend huffed.
Sveyn chuckled.
Hollis winced. “I’m sorry. Good morning, Stevie. How are you this morning?”
“Fine, thanks. And good morning to you, Hollis.” Stevie gave her a sly grin. “Did Matt make it to Phoenix last night?”
Hollis nodded. “He did.”
“And did you sleep well?”
“No, no, no!” Hollis clarified. “He has his own apartment and he slept there.”
Stevie tilted her head. “That’s probably wise, considering Sveyn and all.”
The Viking bowed. “Thank you, Stevie.”
“And considering that he and I aren’t a couple at this point!” Hollis reminded both of them. “It’s not a foregone conclusion, Stevie.”
“Hmm.” Stevie perched on the arm of a chair. “So what do you need from me?”
Hollis folded her arms, preparing for Stevie’s response. “Matt’s asking about the retired Special Ops Navy Captain that I invented as my boyfriend.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Very handsome. Over six feet tall. Dark blond hair. Blue eyes.” Hollis wrinkled her nose. “I was inventing on the fly.”
Stevie’s jaw dropped. “You made an imaginary boyfriend out of Sveyn?”
Sveyn grinned. “Who else?”
Hush.
“I didn’t want to look like a total loser when Matt showed up at the opening, so yeah.” Hollis shrugged apologetically. “I used Sveyn as my inspiration. I said he sails a trade ship now.”
Stevie giggled. “Does this particular navy-turned-trade-ship Captain happen to live in the desert?”
Hollis cheeks flamed. “Maybe. But that’s not the point.”
Stevie giggled harder. “The point is that he’s conveniently out to sea, right?”
“Yes.”
“But there needs to be some sort of proof of life.”
Hollis nodded. “Exactly.”
Stevie clapped her hands together. “Okay. Okay. I’ve got this. Easy peasy.”
Hollis blew a sigh of relief. “Thank you!”
“First, we both download one of those free chat apps that uses Wi-Fi,” Stevie began. “Then I’ll create his profile so I can text you through it.”
Hollis nodded. “And that’s perfect if he’s at sea!”
“Next, we find a picture or a graphic to use as his avatar— because you know as well as I do that Matt will want to look over your shoulder when the Captain texts you.”
“And I need to let him or it looks suspicious.” Hollis walked around and sat at her desk to start the search. “We’ll use a public domain photo or clipart.”
Stevie followed her around the desk and stood behind her. “And of course he needs a user name, this Captain of your heart.”
“I think that is how I should be called from this day forward,” Sveyn declared.
Hollis shot him a look. Not helpful. “Captain Hart—without the ‘e’ of course. It’s perfect.”
Stevie nodded. “That actually works. And his first name?”
“The easiest lie to remember is based in truth,” Hollis said. “We’ll use Sveyn.”
“Speaking of which…” Stevie glanced around the room. Are we alone?”
Hollis sighed. “Never. He’s here, harassing me.”
“Oh!” Stevie smiled and gave a little wave. “Hi, Sveyn.”
Another bow. “Good morning, Stevie. You look charming today.”
“He says good morning and you look charming.”
“Why, thank you!” Her cheeks pinkened.
Hollis turned her screen to face Stevie. “Which do you like?”
Stevie tapped the screen. “That one.”
Sveyn leaned over the computer. “I approve.”
Hollis downloaded a photo of a muscular fisherman standing on the deck of a boat and photographed attractively from behind. “Good choice. It doesn’t show his face.”
“As I think about it,” Stevie said as she circled around to the front of Hollis’s desk. “We should just use his first initial for his user name, or Matt might go searching for Captain Sveyn Hart.”
Hollis nodded her agreement. “Good point. We’ll use S. Hart.”
Stevie started laughing. “Better put an underscore between the S and the H.”
Hollis looked up at Stevie. “Why?”
Stevie laughed even harder. “If you don’t, his screen name is shart!”
Hollis burst into laughter at that. “Well—he is a load of crap and hot air!” she whooped.
*****
Miranda interrupted their hilarity via intercom. “Hollis? Can you come to my office?”
“Yep.” She wiped her eyes. “Be right there.”
A uniformed police officer waited with Miranda and a loosely closed box rested on her desk.
Hollis’s name was written on the top in black marker.
Sveyn peeked inside the box then met her eyes. “This is not good, Hollis.”
Foreboding swamped Hollis making her knees wobble. “Not again…”
“I’m afraid so.” Miranda glanced at the officer—a different one from three nights ago. “This is Detective Campbell. He’s going to handle your case now.”
“Case?” Hollis looked at the cop. “I have a case?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “The first dead cat might have been a prank. But the second one indicates something else is ongoing.” He lifted a card from the desktop. Hollis noticed he was wearing gloves. “This was tied around the animal’s neck.”
Hollis stared at the card. “Life number two?” She shifted
her gaze to the officer. “Like cats have nine?”
Sveyn startled. “They do?”
Hollis shot him a shut up glance.
“That’s my interpretation.” The detective lifted the edge of the lid and slipped that card inside.
“Are seven more cats going to die?” It was a horrifying idea.
“We hope not.”
Hollis looked at Miranda. “Was this one delivered like the first one?”
Her boss shook her head. “The package was left by the front door before the museum opened this morning. I called the police to come open it before I bothered you.” Miranda’s eye dropped to the box then met hers again. “I assumed you’d forgive me if it turned out to be harmless.”
Hollis nodded numbly. “Why is this happening?”
Detective Campbell straightened. “I intend to find out. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
Hollis’s gaze swept over the dark navy uniform replete with a variety of devices, cords, and weapons and her heartbeat stumbled. “Um. Sure.”
His mouth quirked. “Would you rather I was in plain clothes?”
“No. No. It’s okay.” She glanced at Miranda. “Here or in my office?”
“Here’s fine.” Her boss gestured toward a chair. “Can I get you coffee?”
Hollis shook her head. “No. But thank you.”
Detective Campbell took a chair as well. “The first question is obvious: who is angry with you?”
Hollis blinked. “Angry with me?”
“Anyone holding a grudge?”
“Well… there was Tony Samoa.” Hollis looked at Sveyn, then Miranda “But I saw him Saturday at the mall and he apologized.”
“Who is he?” Detective Campbell asked.
“The museum’s permanent collections manager,” Miranda said. “Hollis was brought in on a one-year contract to handle the Kensington bequest, but Tony felt like we were betraying the museum’s integrity by accepting it in the first place.”
The detective’s lips quirked. “In spite of the twelve mil that came with it?”
Hollis was impressed. “You’ve done your homework.”
“I try.”
