Page 125 of Lorenzo

Now I am standing in my kitchen with the refrigerator open, looking at food I do not want.

“This is ridiculous,” I tell Mocha.

He lies near the table with his head resting on his front paws.

“I found Rachel. I cleared Alessio. Mostly.”

One of his ears twitches.

“The police have enough to investigate her. They have the adoption papers, the photographs, and the phone. Julian was there to make sure they couldn’t ignore any of it.”

Mocha blinks at me.

“I should be happy.”

His gaze remains steady.

“I am happy.”

He lifts his head.

“Do not look at me like that.”

His tail moves once against the floor.

I close the refrigerator and lean back against it.

The house feels too quiet and empty.

For the past several days, every hour has been filled with movement. Interviews. Records. Genevieve’s apartment. Elaine Monroe’s house. The motel. Rachel’s car forcing us off the freeway.

Lorenzo beside me through all of it.

I think of him standing in the warehouse lot, telling Rachel that we would turn her in to the police. The stillness in him when she tried to mock him. The slow, terrifying smile that made even Rachel understand she had clearly misjudged the man in front of her.

Then I think of him in the car earlier, asking whether I wanted him to charm me.

Heat forms in my stomach.

“That is completely unrelated,” I tell Mocha.

He lowers his head again.

“I’m talking about the case.”

A knock sounds at the front door.

Mocha is on his feet before the second one.

I glance toward the clock.

It is late enough that no one should be stopping by without calling first.

Mocha moves with me through the hallway, silent and alert. I check through the window beside the door.

Lorenzo stands on my porch with a bottle of wine in one hand.

My pulse jumps.