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Chapter 6
Murder was a serious accusation. The facts Lori shared were disturbing, and Gunner agreed with her suspicion. Discovering the perpetrator and proving a crime had been committed would be challenging. A criminal savvy enough to kill with poison would cover his tracks.
Gunner put his arm around Lori, and she leaned against his chest. Her grief over her father’s death had only been the tip of the iceberg, because of Lori’s questions about the cause of death. Poison was a method of murder, not wielded as a weapon in the heat of passion.
Lori sat up and wiped away her tears with the cloth napkin. “I told you that you shouldn’t have asked. You have no part in this mess. But I suppose that I’ve told you too much now.”
Gunner lifted her chin with two fingers and looked into her sad eyes. “I meant it when I told you to share your worries. I wouldn’t want you to take it back, even if you could.”
“I don’t want to be alone,” Lori said in a low voice.
“I’m with you,” Gunner said. “Just tell me what you need.”
Lori stood then reached for Gunner’s hand. “I don’t feel like going to a restaurant. I prefer privacy until I can think things through. What about dinner at my place? I’m sure I can find something for us.”
Gunner didn’t hesitate; he drove her home, which was safer considering the circumstances. Until he had an idea about who had wanted Lori’s father dead, he would take steps to protect her. Danger lurked, but Gunner was at a disadvantage, because the identity of the criminal was unknown.
When they arrived at her home, Lori ushered Gunner to the living room and offered him a drink. On her way to the kitchen, she locked the front door and armed the security system. “Sorry, I’m just freaked out.”
Gunner was glad to see that Lori realized the danger she was in, and that she had home protection. When he had a chance, it would be good to check it out and be sure the system was adequate.
Lori handed him a bottle of craft beer. “I don’t have Corona. Will this do?”
“I’m not picky.”
After kicking off her shoes, Lori sat at the other end of the white sofa and took a sip of her wine. She looked at Gunner. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Gunner took a swig of beer. He debated whether to bring up the subject of murder, as it wasn’t the sort of discussion that made a woman feel safe. It was vital to learn all that Lori knew about her father’s death, but that could wait.
“You can relax,” Gunner said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Lori clicked a remote and turned on the gas fireplace. For a while, they drank and gazed at the flickering flames. Then Lori chatted about lighter topics, like the home and the décor her mother had selected. She spoke fondly of her father, but got choked up, so changed the subject to operations at the clinic.
While Lori drank her second glass of wine, and Gunner another beer, she asked about his work. He told her some interesting tales about the protection business, and mentioned several of his teammates and their adventures.
“You must be getting hungry,” Lori said.
“I can always eat,” Gunner said. “No need to go to a lot of trouble.”
“I’ll make spaghetti,” Lori said. “I have sauce in the freezer. I made it using my uncle’s family recipe, so it should be good. His tastes better than mine, though.”
“He must have a special touch,” Gunner said. “Cooks are like that; one extra dash of a spice and the flavor changes.”
“Yeah, I’m sure my uncle didn’t share everything,” Lori said with a smile.
“Shall we?” Gunner stood and helped her up. He was hungry enough to eat several plates of spaghetti, but he’d keep it to a dull roar.
The kitchen had dark wood cupboards, stainless steel appliances, and tile floors. “You must be quite the gourmet.”
Lori laughed. “Nope, sorry to disappoint you. But my mother was amazing in the kitchen, and my dad wasn’t half bad.”
Gunner did his part by filling the pot and boiling the water. He added butter then sprinkled salt into the water. He pretended to be intent on his tasks, but Lori was his focus. She looked desirable with her hair pinned up and a bright apron around her waist.
The domestic scene got to Gunner, and he wanted to pull Lori into his arms. But he couldn’t tell how she felt. Cooking seemed to cheer her up, but that didn’t mean the upsetting circumstances weren’t foremost in her mind.
Lori pointed to where the dinner plates were stored, so Gunner set the table. The sauce simmered on the stove, and the aroma of garlic and spices made his mouth water. When the pasta was done, he loaded some onto the plates and Lori ladled the sauce over it.
The meal was as good as Lori had predicted. “This is the best sauce I’ve had, and I’ve eaten plenty of spaghetti in my life.”
