That Touch of Ink Read Online Free PDF

followed thoughts.
    “The way your hair smells and how perfectly we fit together when we dance. I miss it all. How you used to watch the Doris Day show when you couldn’t sleep. You know, after you vanished, I bought the entire series. I watched the episodes so many times I practically committed them to memory. It was the closest I could get to having you with me.”
    “But I wasn’t with you. Not after you lied to me.” I looked into my drink, swirling it around.  The red plastic stirrer was stacked with pineapple cubes and a maraschino cherry. “I don’t know if I can forgive that, Brad. No matter what you feel, no matter what I felt, once.”
    “Give me a chance, honey, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Every day, every night. I’ll be there. I’m on the straight and narrow from here on out. I won’t risk losing you again.”
    The waiter returned. “Mr. and Mrs. Turlington? Your table is ready.”
    “We’re not married,” I said with a little too much force.
    “Yet,” said Brad, behind me.
    Del smiled and asked us to follow him. We weaved through a couple of small tables, past the Moai, to a quiet spot in the back of the restaurant.
    “Brad, that drink hit me harder than I thought it would. I need some air.” My head was starting to swim. “I’ll be right back.”
    I eased my way past the bar, through the narrow front hallway, past the hostess desk, and out the front door. The darkness of the interior matched the darkness of the night. Cool air hit my face. I walked to a wooden bench and propped my palms on the back, closing my eyes, breathing in, breathing out. I needed to relax. I needed to chill.
    I opened my eyes, prepared to face whatever the night brought. Which was too bad, really, because as it turned out the night brought Tex, leaning against the back of my car, arms folded across his chest.

FOUR

    “What are you doing here?” I asked.
    “What do you think?” Tex smiled, softening the hard planes of his face and igniting the flirtatious glint in his eye. I hadn’t seen that look for several months, and considering the crime scene we’d been at earlier, I was surprised to see it now.
    “I think you’re checking up on me.”
    “Maybe I wanted to see how your date was going,” Tex said.
    “It’s not a date.”
    He scanned the fitted bodice of my dress. “Looks like a date dress,” he said.
    “I had to change. You saw the other outfit.” I’d put this dress on because it was the counter-opposite to the blood-stained corduroys: innocent, feminine, sweet. “It had Stanley Mann’s blood on it,” I finished.
    “Here’s the thing. We don’t think that was Stanley Mann. There was no wallet, no identification. We got a neighbor to come in and she said she didn’t recognize the guy.”
    “But who else would it be?” I asked.
    “That’s the hundred thousand dollar question.”
    I shivered for a moment as an unexpected cool breeze blew past us. Tex reached forward and adjusted the cardigan around my shoulders.
    “How’s the dog?”
    “Scared, but fine. One of the officers is going to look after him until we figure out what happened to his owner.”
    “Were there signs of a struggle? Any evidence that someone else was there?”
    “The marinara was still warm. Whatever happened over there happened right before you showed up.”
    I shivered again, but not because of the temperature.
    “Night, why would this Brad guy send you a collectible five thousand dollar bill?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe he’s really, really sorry for what he did to me and is trying to buy a lot of forgiveness.”
    “Did it work?”
    “Not even close.”
    We stared at each other for a couple of seconds. I didn’t offer anything else about the conversation Brad and I had in the back room of Pierot’s Studio when he first showed me the framed James Madison on the wall. I also didn’t mention the promise I’d made Brad.
    “I thought you’d like to know a little more about