Shiver by Lisa Jackson

the West Coast, or her father, or Tanisha, the student who worked part-time in Abby’s studio in the city. “No. I’ll be fine. Really. It’s not as if I was still in love with him.”
    One of his dark eyebrows quirked and she regretted her words immediately. She felt compelled to explain herself. “Listen, Detective, just because he left me for another woman, one quite a bit younger, doesn’t mean that I’m still pining for him or that I’ll break into a million pieces once you leave. What I’d felt for Luke died a long time ago. Sad, but true.” She looked down at her hands and gnawed at her lower lip a second. The lag in the conversation made the sounds of the house, the creaking timbers, a squirrel scampering across the roof, the steady gurgle of rain washing through the gutters, more noticeable. “The marriage was probably over before we moved here from Seattle. We were trying to make a second stab at it, but we failed.” She nodded as if to herself and the confession of her true feelings felt good. “Nonetheless, I just can’t believe he’s dead.” It was her turn to stare at him. “You’re certain of this, right? When I first heard he was missing, I thought it was a publicity stunt.”
    “If it is, it went seriously wrong. Luke Gierman is dead. Trust me.”
    A deep sadness welled inside her. As much as she and Luke had been at odds, she hated the thought that he’d been killed, his life snuffed before he reached forty.
    Montoya rose and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. She watched his movement, noticed how his jeans hugged his butt, then looked quickly away. Geez, what was wrong with her? Yeah, the guy’s hips were right in her line of vision, but so what? Had Luke’s violent death kicked in her libido? How sick was that? What was she thinking, looking at the detective’s buttocks?
    That was the problem, she wasn’t thinking. Hadn’t been. Despite all her protests of being okay with the news of her ex-husband’s death, she was still in shock.
    So she’d noticed the detective was sexy. So what? It wasn’t a big deal. She also knew that she couldn’t trust him within an inch of her life.
    He scribbled something on the back of a card, and if he’d caught her checking him out, he had the decency not to show it. “My cell phone number,” he explained. “If you think of anything else, contact me.”
    “You, too.” She stood and took the white business card he handed her before a horrifying thought struck her. “Please tell me I don’t have to go to the morgue and identify the body,” she asked, suddenly weak in the knees again.
    “No. His parents are coming into town.”
    She nodded, didn’t want to think about her former in-laws and the grief they were enduring.
    “So…I saw the FOR SALE sign out front. Are you getting ready to move?”
    “After I sell this, yes,” she said and wondered why she felt defensive about it, as if the question was one he might ask a suspect. She half expected him to wink at her and advise her not to leave town, but he dropped the subject, only asking once again if he could call someone to be with her and, when she declined, promising to return with her dog.
    She walked him to the door. The rain had stopped, leaving puddles in the drive and only a few drops still dripping from the trees. From the porch she watched as he folded his muscular frame behind the steering wheel of his cruiser, his black hair shining like ebony in the dismal rays from a cloud-covered sun. He backed the vehicle out of her long drive, his tires splashing in the water that had collected, then he nosed the cruiser onto the road.
    As he drove out of sight, she collapsed onto the porch, dissolving into tears that streaked down her face. It was stupid, really, she didn’t love Luke, hadn’t for a long, long time, but still, knowing that he’d been murdered, that he was gone forever, left a hole in her life.
    Who had murdered him? Had he known his attacker? Had the woman