Brody Law: The Bridge / The District / The Wharf / The Hill. Carol Ericson

he’d deck ’em.

      He strode down the hallway, holding the box in front of him, daring anyone to make a comment. Nobody even seemed to notice what he was holding.

      Blowing out a breath, he poked his head into the lab. “I think you guys are waiting for a finger.”

      Tom Kwan, one of their forensic guys, smirked. “I could go all out with the black humor of that comment, but you already look like you’re in a black humor so I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

      “Good idea, Kwan.” Sean placed the box on one of the chrome tables. He could exchange gallows humor with the best of them. It blew off steam, made the unbearable bearable. But with Elise out there in danger, it didn’t seem right.

      “When are we getting the finger, and I don’t mean from the captain.” Jacoby had burst through another door and stopped short when he saw Sean. “I guess you heard.”

      “Heard,” Sean flicked the box, “and saw. We’ve got one twisted individual on our hands. I thought he’d kept the finger as a trophy.”

      “I’m gonna take the print, but we all know it belongs to Katie. Same blue polish, same missing digit. Elise Duran was one lucky lady.”

      Kwan tapped his chin. “I wonder if he took the finger before or after he killed her. That’s gotta hurt.”

      “I’ll leave you to figure that out. I’m outta here.” Sean backed out of the lab with a queasy stomach. Kwan’s morbid fascinations had never bothered him before. Before Elise.

      That’s why you never make it personal, son.

      His father’s voice rumbled up from Sean’s subconscious. Where had that come from? Was it something his father actually said to him?

      Jacoby’s head popped out of the lab door. “Brody, I meant to tell you, I didn’t get any prints from Elise’s house other than Elise’s.”

      “Yeah, I guess that’s what we figured anyway.”

      “Her house was clean. Doesn’t look like she has anyone over—ever.”

      Sean raised an eyebrow. “And your point?”

      Jacoby shrugged his pumped-up shoulders. “Just thought I’d let you know. In case you want to make a move.”

      “Why, do you?”

      “You’re the hotshot detective.” Jacoby dove back into the lab to dodge the barb Sean was getting ready to fling at him.

      Sean dropped into his chair and shuffled through a few messages at his desk. Nothing from Elise. That didn’t mean he couldn’t check on her. He should’ve never kissed her, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t call her. Did it?

      He dug into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out Courtney Chu’s business card. She’d scribbled her home phone number on the back.

      He ran his thumb along the edge of the card once, twice and then punched in the number. With each successive ring, the knots got tighter in his gut. When he got Courtney’s voice mail, the words rasped from his dry throat.

      “This is Detective Brody. I’m calling...”

      “Hello, Sean? It’s Elise.”

      Her breathy voice capped his growing dread, and he slumped in his chair. “For a minute there, I thought you two had gone out.”

      “My leg’s feeling okay but not that good, and Courtney stayed in with me and cooked dinner.”

      “Your leg’s bothering you? Do you need to go back to the hospital?”

      “It’s throbbing a bit, but I can handle it with a little ibuprofen.”

      “Take a lot if you need it.”

      “Any new developments in the case?”

      “Some things I can’t share.”

      “Not even with someone who’s intimately involved...with the case?”

      Sean hunched over his desk and cupped his hand around the receiver. “I’m sorry about...about what happened in the hallway.”

      “No apology necessary, but an explanation would be nice.”

      “An explanation?” Maybe he’d have to rethink his appreciation of her forthrightness. “Don’t people do that in Montana?”

      “Kiss? Yep, lots of that going on in Montana.”

      “That’s a start. I’m glad you recognized the gesture.”

      “Don’t be obtuse, Sean. You kissed me right after you told me to stay out of your life. And I’m not saying people in Montana don’t send conflicting messages with their kisses, because they do. I’m saying I don’t.”

      “Can’t I just excuse myself by admitting I’m a caveman? I acted on impulse without thinking.”

      “But you’re not the impulsive type, are you?”

      “I can be.” Especially looking into a pair of big blue eyes.

      “If you’re so impulsive, tell me what upset you so much tonight.”

      He cleared his throat. “It was another message from the killer. That’s the game he’s playing, but I’m glad he’s playing it with me now instead of you.”

      “Whether we like it or not, I’m involved in this and I appreciate your openness.”

      After Sean hung up the phone, he stared at it until his eyes ached and grew bleary. He hadn’t been open with Elise at all, and he had no intention of inviting her into his misery.

      * * *

      THE FOLLOWING MORNING, a dull pain in Elise’s leg woke her up and the fear she kept tamping down in her semiconscious state welled to the surface. Closing her eyes, she massaged her thigh around the stitches and took a couple of deep breaths.

      Last night she’d sensed Sean holding back, but she couldn’t force him to confide in her. She could get through this with or without Sean Brody. With would be better, a lot better.

      She stretched her legs and swung them over the side of the bed. Then she shuffled across the hardwood floor and poked her head out the door of Courtney’s spare bedroom. Nothing but silence greeted her.

      Determined to earn her keep, she shoved her feet into a pair of flip-flops and made her way down to the kitchen. She blended some plain yogurt with a few berries, sprinkled some granola on top and added a sliced banana.

      She found a couple of stale bagels, dropped them into the toaster oven and began pouring water into the coffeemaker.

      “Stop right there.” A sleepy-eyed Courtney lounged against the entryway to the kitchen, yawning. “The breakfast looks great, but I’ll handle the coffee. You don’t even drink the stuff.”

      Elise backed away from the coffeemaker. “It’s all yours. I don’t want to mess with your morning elixir.”

      Courtney brushed past her and grabbed a bag of coffee beans. “You did realize you’d have to grind the beans first, didn’t you?”

      “Of course.” Elise dipped a spoon into the yogurt. “How old are the bagels? I figured we could toast away the staleness.”

      “They’re not that old. I have some cream cheese, too.” She pointed to the fridge. “How’s your leg feeling?”

      “Sore. I took some ibuprofen.”

      “Are you going to stay home from school tomorrow?”

      “No way. We have all kinds of activities planned for the last few days of school. It’s the best part of the school year.”

      Courtney pursed her lips as she flipped the switch for the coffee grinder.

      When the