Wink of an Eye by Lynn Chandler Willis Page B

“Right now I’m goin’ grab a few hours of sleep. How about waking me up around ten?” I did need to drive back up to Odessa and visit with Sophia Ortez again.
    She pursed her lips and nodded, then asked coldly, “How was your dinner ?”
    I took a deep breath and steeled myself for the coming lecture. “It was nice.”
    She nodded again. “I bet. Next time check yourself in the mirror before heading out. Your shirt’s on inside out.”
    I was so busted.
    *   *   *
    At 10:15, Rhonda flipped open the blinds and smacked my bare feet. “Up and at ’em.”
    I squeezed my eyes closed against the light.
    â€œTatum called and wanted to know if you needed him today.” She sat a fresh cup of steaming coffee on the nightstand, then sat down on the edge of the bed.
    Tatum. My sidekick. I grumbled, then sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I pushed my fingers through my mussed-up hair. It was damp with sweat and sticky with fluids I was too much of a gentleman to identify. “Tell Tatum he has the day off. Tell him I said to take Alvedia swimming, cool off those pubescent hormones.”
    Rhonda laughed. “He’d probably like that except he can’t swim.”
    I glanced at her then took a long drink of coffee. “Seriously?”
    She shrugged. “Seriously. He’s terrified of water. One of the kids had an end-of-school pool party and I thought the poor kid was goin’ to have a heart attack.”
    I thought all kids these days could swim. What’d I know?
    â€œRodney’ll be home this afternoon,” Rhonda said. She was gnawing on her bottom lip, a sure indication there was more to the statement than what was said.
    I sighed. “You want me to get a motel room?”
    Her eyes flew wide and she quickly shook her head. “No—that’s not what I meant.”
    Thank God. I didn’t know if I could stand another night on a motel bed.
    She tugged on her right ear, a habit she’d had since she was a kid when something was weighing on her mind.
    â€œOkay … so Rodney will be home this afternoon. And that means…?”
    â€œRemember I told you he didn’t want me to get involved with Ryce’s death,” she said in a small voice, still gnawing on her lip.
    I recalled the conversation and nodded. “He told you to leave it alone.”
    She gazed at me with pitiful eyes. I took another long drink of coffee, considering our options. Did I help her keep a secret from her husband? Between her, Claire, and the recently deceased Gina Gilleni, I wondered if I was wearing a sign on my back saying TRUST ME, I WON’T TELL YOUR HUSBAND.
    I let out a long breath. “He told you to leave it alone. He didn’t tell me to.”
    Her eyes lit up and matched her tentative smile. “You’ll cover for me?”
    I draped my arm around her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I won’t tell your husband your little secret if you won’t lecture me about Claire.”
    â€œUh—Gypsy! That’s not fair.” She punched my shoulder. “Someone has to talk some sense into that head of yours about that woman.”
    It wasn’t my head that needing talking to. “That’s the deal, baby. Take it or I spill my guts as soon as he walks through the door.”
    She sprung up from the bed and stomped out of the room, mumbling something about me being evil.
    I grabbed a quick shower, then powered up the laptop at the kitchen table. Gram was at the table eating some graham crackers with peanut butter. She looked like a dog trying to lick peanut butter from the roof of its mouth. Must be a bitch getting old.
    I Googled the phone number for the Odessa Record, then punched the number in my cell. I listened to the dial-by-name directory, then pressed Sophia Ortez’s extension.
    â€œThis is Sophia Ortez,” she said on the second