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Coffee. Della didn’t drink the dark bitter brew, but the waitress hadn’t asked. She just dropped two cups on the table as if it were a requirement.
So Della now held the lukewarm cup and turned it. Lucas sat across from her. He hadn’t touched his coffee, but he’d wolfed down a burger.
Over the phone, Burnett had insisted that Della and Lucas leave before the media showed up and plastered their faces on the news.
“What if Mrs. Chi comes back?” Della had insisted.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about ghosts since I married my wife is that if they want you, they’ll find you. There’s an all-night diner right around the corner. Go there. I’ll see what I can find out and meet you.”
Della picked up her phone and saw that it was almost two. What was taking Burnett so long? She stared out the window into the dark cold night. Her mind slipped away from the Chis to Chase. Had he come back to her house looking for her? Was she going to tell Burnett about his little bathroom visit?
Determined footsteps moved down the sidewalk. Della looked to the diner door, waiting for Burnett to appear. Dressed in faded jeans, a black shirt, and black leather jacket, he looked like a force to be reckoned with.
She worried he’d consider the Chis’ murder more of an inconvenience than an important case. But the moment she saw his gaze on her, she knew differently. For all his gruffness and even his appearance, there was innate goodness in him.
He dropped into a chair beside her, giving both her and Lucas a nod. The waitress, a thirty-year-old bleached blonde, came swaying over, seductively, with a cup and pot of coffee dangling from one hand.
“Hey there, sweetie.” She slid the cup to him, leaning over as she filled the cup, as if to make sure he got a good peek at her cleavage.
Burnett nodded, and much to the woman’s dismay, he didn’t even offer her boobs a glance.
“You need anything?” she asked. “Anything at all?”
“No, thank you. That will be it,” Burnett’s tone pretty much dismissed her. He wasn’t so much rude as matter-of-fact.
The waitress walked off, a lot less seductively. Burnett’s gaze shifted to Della. “Sorry for your loss.”
Della swallowed a lump in her throat. “She was just a neighbor, but she was … nice. I saw her tonight at Whataburger. She was getting her husband dinner. She told me to be careful.”
“What time did you see her?” Burnett asked.
“A few minutes after seven.”
He picked up his cup. “The food was still in the bags.” He sipped from the rim of coffee where steam swirled up. He made a face and set the coffee down. “Someone could have followed her, pushed their way inside, or they were already in.”
“So no forced entry?” Lucas asked.
“No.”
Della gave her own cup another twist. “If someone knocked, they would have opened the door.”
“Even to strangers and after hours?” Burnett asked.
“Yeah.” Della stared into the cold dark brew in her cup for several seconds. “For that matter if someone asked for the money, they’d probably have given it to them too.” She looked up. “Was it weres?”
“There are mixed signals. It was a bloody crime scene, and I picked up traces of weres, but usually weres like to throw some muscle around this time of the month. Nothing looked overly ransacked.”
“Maybe they were easy marks and didn’t require any muscle.” Della’s stomach clenched.
“Could be. I’ve secured the paranormal mortician for the autopsy. We’ll know more when she’s finished. It probably won’t happen for a few days.” His gaze slipped to Lucas. “What do you think?”
“He’s going to defend his own kind,” Della snapped.
Burnett frowned. “Let him answer.”
“But he’s already told me. He doesn’t think they—”
Burnett cleared his throat. Della realized he was right. It wasn’t Lucas she needed to aim her fury at.
