Page 30 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“Probably.”

Claire looked toward Vance disappearing around the corner.

“That's fucking terrifying.”

“She was nice.”

“She is investigating a murder.”

“We don't technically know that.”

Claire stared.

“Elliot.”

He smiled.

“Fine.”

She grabbed his arm.

“Come on. I'm getting another coffee.”

“You've had two.”

“I don't care.”

They stepped into the rain. By noon, Detective Vance had spoken with at least eleven other people from the party. By three, Bellweather Police confirmed publicly that Mason Kerr's death was being investigated as a homicide. By four, television vans were parked outside the university gates. And by six, everyone in Bellweather had begun looking at everyone else differently. Ronan was in the kitchen when Elliot came home. He stood at the stove wearing black sweatpants and a white T-shirt, stirring something in a saucepan while music played quietly from a speaker beside the sink. Elliot stopped inside the doorway. Ronan looked over.

“Shoes.”

Elliot looked down. Rainwater darkened the floor beneath them.

“Sorry.”

He kicked them off. Ronan returned to the stove.

“How was your interrogation?”

Elliot froze.

“How do you know?”

“Mom.”

“Of course.”

“She apparently has informants everywhere.”

“Claire.”

“Probably.”

Elliot dropped his bag.

“What are you making?”

“Pasta.”