Page 170 of Over Her Dead Body

Her mouth brushes the corner of mine.

I catch her wrist before she can move away.

“You do not make another decision about my home or my business without telling me.”

Genevieve looks down at my hand around her wrist.

Then at me.

“You are very worked up over this, Philip. We both know it’s not good for your heart.”

There are several possible responses.

None improve the morning.

I let go of her wrist.

She takes my drink again.

My phone alerts me to a new email before either of us decides what comes next.

No subject.

I open it.

You did not ask me to find the boy.

Genevieve watches my face.

I keep reading.

I did anyway.

The next line contains a name.

Perry Keller. Twenty-six.

Sixteen the night Charles Whitaker died.

Still in Austin.

Thin scar through left eyebrow.

There is a photograph attached.

Dark hair. Pleasant face. The scar is easy to see.

Genevieve moves closer. “What is it?”

I turn the phone facedown.

“Nothing that matters.”

I had almost missed the second message in the thread.

One final line.

But I’m sure he won’t be a problem.