Murder in the Aisles by Olivia Hill

bad either.” That earned him a smile. He slowly reached over and, with the pad of his thumb, dabbed away a spot of mayo from the corner of Felicia’s mouth.
    Felicia held her breath when his gaze caught hers. He moved toward her. When he touched her, innocently, it was the most sensual experience that he could recall. The pit of his belly heated and warmth spread, yet at the same time goose bumps rose on his arms.
    Stupid . He shouldn’t have touched her, not like that, not that way, like she was somebody more important than she really was. “Little mayo,” he said, his voice suddenly thick. His eyes bored into hers.
    Felicia swallowed, found it hard to breathe. “Thanks.” She hopped up from her seat, grabbed her glass and spun toward the fridge. “More ice for your tea?” She kept her back to him while the ice from the icemaker plopped into her glass. She wanted to run a cube along her throat.
    â€œI’m good. We probably should get on over to the precinct.”
    â€œHmm.” She took a long swallow of her tea. “Yes, it’s getting late.” Finally she turned around. “Ready when you are.”
    He brought his empty plate to the sink. “Thanks for lunch.”
    â€œNot a problem.”
    He needed some air. “Uh, I’m gonna wait in the car.”
    She blinked. “Okay. Give me a few minutes.”
    He walked out and grabbed his coat from the closet, but it wasn’t until Felicia heard the door close behind him that she released her grip on the counter.
    * * * * *
    Felicia followed Mark’s Honda at a safe distance, at least a safe physical distance. She couldn’t say the same thing about what was going on with her inside. Being in the same space with Mark Rizzo was becoming difficult. Something had shifted in the dynamics of their relationship, if you could call it a relationship. What was once adversarial had morphed into that wide-open space that left room for anything to happen. It was a space that she made a point not to venture into. It was that space where feelings resided. Feelings, she understood long ago, were too unreliable. She needed facts and data, and hard evidence. She was a scientist. That’s what she had to keep in the forefront of her mind. Whatever this thing was that stirred her belly was purely some physical response to a man. Nothing more. She could not allow these small tokens of his—the looks, tone of voice, his dimpled smile, touching her—distract her from why they’d come into each other’s lives: find out what really happened to Dr. Dresden. That was it. Then he could go back to whatever it was that he did and so could she.
    Felicia pulled up behind Mark’s car when they arrived at the precinct. He got out and came up alongside her window. She depressed the button and the window whizzed down.
    â€œPull into the space up ahead on your right. Take this.” It was a placard for temporary parking. “Put that in your window.”
    She nodded, pulled away and parked. Mark waited for her on the front steps. “You’ll need to get a visitor’s pass when we get inside,” he said when she joined him. He held the door open for her and her shoulder briefly grazed his chest. She heard him swallow.
    Mark led her to the front desk and got the visitor’s pass, which was nothing more than a peel and stick label.
    â€œThis way.”
    Felicia slung her hands into the pockets of her coat and followed a step or two behind Mark, taking in the scene as she walked. The front of the precinct was the equivalent of an airport check-in. There were uniformed officers and what she determined as plainclothes detectives hustling back and forth, some with other officers, others ushering handcuffed individuals down hallways. The click, click of computer keys, could be heard between the din of heavy male voices. The level of testosterone was overwhelming to the senses and even Mark, as