Page 56 of Go Under

“There is no world where a single bite of that junk will enter my mouth,” Marcus told her.

“Good. See you later.”

“See you later, Kate.”

She locked the door behind her and descended the stairs. The cold pierced her thin turtleneck, but she had a coat in her car, so she’d be fine when she reached her mother’s house.

She reached her car, pulled her coat on, stepped inside, and started the engine. While she waited for the car to warm up, she replayed Cox’s message in her head.

She needed to know. Marcus wanted her to let go of the past, to give Cox no ammo to use against her, but she couldn’t. She still didn’t know why her father died, and she couldn’t let go of a chance to find out.

If they were together, if they were anything more than friends, Marcus would push her harder. He would want her to leave that behind. She just couldn’t. Not until she knew.

She sighed heavily, buckled her seatbelt, put the car in gear, and drove away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Sapir, one half of a pair of red setters that provided daily companionship to Catherine Valentine, rested his head on Kate’s lap, looking up at her with the big, loving eyes with which only dogs and small children were blessed. Kate smiled at him and stroked the fur behind his ears. “Sorry, buddy. I’m still not giving you some of my cherry pie.”

Sapir rolled his eyes and sidled away to join his brother, Whorf. Whorf had already given up begging after a look from Catherine informed him that she would tolerate no such misbehavior from her boys tonight.

The woman in question leaned back and laughed, a beautiful sound that Kate hadn’t realized she’d missed so much. The past several months had been hard for the two of them. The disastrous end to Kate’s brief relationship with Marcus, and Catherine’s pleading to Kate to do something to fix it had led to several fights, the last one bad. They’d seen each other since then, but each encounter was tentative, neither of them wanting to spark another argument.

This was the first dinner in a while where Kate felt like she and her mother actually got along. Maybe it was just because she was exhausted after the Avery case, but Kate had spent the evening showing real interest in Catherine’s life and answered honestly when Catherine questioned her about hers, even the uncomfortable portions.

Catherine couldn’t seem to be convinced that Marcus and Kate weren’t sharing a bed, “or at least some piece of furniture” on a daily basis. Kate endured that comment and several other badly disguised probes into her personal life, all the while gently insisting that what had happened between them was over, and Marcus was only there in case Cox tried to show up and do something stupid.

They’d enjoyed a wonderful dinner, fried cod with roasted capers, carrots, and turnips and rice pilaf on the side. Cherry pie for dessert and two glasses of the most delicious chardonnay Kate had ever tasted.

“A gift from the dean,” Catherine explained when Kate asked. “Don’t tell him, but I looked up the price when I got home.” She widened her eyes and tapped her nose, a gesture that didn’t really make any sense, but that Kate understood anyway.

“So, this dean,” Kate asked. “He cute?”

Catherine burst into laughter. “Oh, Kate. I have no interest in offering myself to another man. I’ve been there, done that, and I’m quite content to spend the rest of my life a widow.”

Kate’s smile faded at that, but she didn’t dampen their happiness. Not yet.

Now the evening was coming to an end. Her mother was making spiced coffee and carrying it to the living room. They’d talk for another thirty minutes or so, and then Catherine would ask if Kate wished to spend the night. The offer would be genuine, and on many occasions, Kate would accept, but tonight, she doubted she would receive it.

She had to ask her mother something that would ruin all of the joy they’d shared tonight. She hated that she had to ask it, but she did. She needed to know.

“You know, it’s a special man who will live with a woman he’s not having sex with,” Catherine said as Kate sank into one of a pair of richly upholstered easy chairs that stood on either side of the hand carved maple coffee table. “He must truly care about you to know that you’re only a few yards away from him and still not make a move.”

“It’s possible to care about someone and not want to shag them,” Kate said.

Catherine wrinkled her nose. “Don’t say shag, dear. It’s a dirty word.”

“I can use the American version if you want.”

“You could use the American version,” Catherine said wryly.

Kate rolled her eyes.

Catherine sighed. “I just don’t like seeing you alone.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them away quickly and lifted her coffee cup to her mouth to hide them, but Kate saw them before she could. It broke her heart anew.

I’m fine, Mom, was her line in this common script. Catherine would protest that she could see that Kate wasn’t fine and implore her to accept the love of a good man, a kind man, a strong man. Kate would remind her that she and Marcus had already tried that and insist that they were better as friends. Catherine would scoff at the notion, but would give up, conceding the day with a final, I just want you to be happy.