Page 94 of My Killer Blind Date

Liam pulls out the only skillet I own and clanks it on to the stove. ‘You know, you can’t test ashes for DNA.’

‘Uh …’

‘Just a thought.’

‘Sorry, I’m not following.’

He tosses a nub of butter into the skillet and turns on the flame. ‘Yeah, it’s probably nothing. But the thought did cross my mind that maybe it wasn’t that her ashes moved from one container to the other. Maybe someone did steal them …’

‘And the ashes that just turned up belong to someone else?’ I complete, beginning to understand.

He shrugs. ‘Might be nothing. Probably my overactive PI brain.’

I can feel the pulse in my neck beating uncomfortably.

‘Devin is in charge of cremation,’ I say. ‘He could easily have scooped some ashes from someone else’s remains and put them in the second urn.’

Liam tilts his head. ‘So you think it’s Devin?’

Suddenly it hits me – was he at the memorial? He and Zoe were friends. But I don’t remember seeing him there.

‘I don’t know. He had the opportunity. But why? What motive?’ I pause, then answer my own question. ‘A killer’s trophy comes to mind. But I can’t see Devin as Zoe’s killer.’

‘Why not?’ Liam rummages in the fridge and comes back out with grated cheese.

‘When I brought Zoe’s foot to the crematory, he threw up. If his stomach is that sensitive, it’s hard to imagine he could handle killing someone and dismembering them.’

Liam pops two pieces of bread in the toaster, then cracks eggs into a bowl. For a while, I let him work in silence, since obviously him beating the eggs gives me a whole forearm show.

Before I know it, we’re eating the fluffiest, most buttery scrambled eggs ever.

‘Would have been better with some chives,’ Liam says with true regret. ‘But …’

‘I know.’ I laugh. ‘My fridge is a graveyard for fresh food.’

‘You can say that again. If we ever move in together—’ He cuts himself off and blushes. Obviously he didn’t plan on saying that.

‘Yeah?’ I say, my heart fluttering.

He runs a hand through his hair with an apologetic grin. ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to get ahead of myself.’

‘No, I like it,’ I say. ‘You cook, I’ll do the dishes. And I can do laundry. But I hate cleaning bathrooms.’

His grin widens. ‘I will happily do the bathrooms. How do you feel about floors? If I vacuum every couple days, will that drive you crazy?’

‘Are you kidding? I’d love that. You can do the decor too. You have quite the eye.’

He looks me up and down. Greedily. ‘I do have an eye for beauty, that’s true.’

Now I’m blushing.

‘Well.’ He gives me a pleased little smile. ‘Sounds like we’re a match made in heaven.’

‘This half of the match needs a shower,’ I say, sniffing at my own armpit. Maybe the shower will have the added benefit of bringing some clarity to my jumbled thoughts. Ashes. Art. Four women with strong viewpoints. Zoe, lying about her childhood. There’s a story here. I just can’t see what it is.

Liam cleans up breakfast while I disappear into the shower. I’m just rinsing out the shampoo when Liam cracks the door and calls in, ‘Hey! I’m headed out. I have a few things to take care of. See you later?’

I stick my face out from behind the shower curtain.