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Authors: Victoria Laurie
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plate with steak and tinfoil-wrapped potato and corn.
‘‘Should we wait for Milo?’’ I asked as he and I took our seats.
‘‘He’ll be out in a minute. Dig in,’’ Dutch said, cutting into his steak.
I felt a little guilty, but it smelled so good and I was so hungry that I couldn’t help but cut off a piece, favoring my right side a little since the sawing motion of cutting was still very uncomfortable. Noticing the grimace on my face, Dutch asked, ‘‘You going to therapy tomorrow?’’
I nodded. ‘‘And Candice wants to see me in the gym at six a.m. sharp.’’
Dutch chuckled. ‘‘I knew that was going to work out well,’’ he said. ‘‘I’m glad she’s moved to town.’’
‘‘Want to come with me?’’ I asked, thinking that misery would sure love some company.
‘‘Can’t, babycakes. I’ve got an early meeting. Maybe the day after tomorrow.’’
‘‘You think she’ll want me to work out two days in a row ?’’
Dutch laughed. ‘‘If I know Candice, she’ll be thinking more like five.’’
I gave Dutch a horrified look as Milo reappeared, his face grim. ‘‘Noel got a call from Craig Stanton. He’s been looking for me.’’
‘‘Who’s that?’’ I asked.
‘‘The head of the parole board,’’ Dutch said to me. He turned to Milo. ‘‘What’s up?’’
‘‘Lutz was knifed this afternoon. He’s in the hospital being prepped for surgery. They’re not sure yet how serious it is.’’
There was a long silence between Milo and Dutch as the two of them seemed to be working through that. ‘‘He’ll live,’’ I said into the silence when my radar kicked in. Goose bumps formed along my arms, and in my head I saw that black dog, drooling and snarling. I knew that Dick Wolfe was behind the attack on Lutz.
‘‘That’s what you’re picking up?’’ Milo asked me.
‘‘Yeah. Give it a week. He’ll be better.’’
‘‘Did Craig say who knifed Lutz?’’
‘‘Conveniently,’’ Milo said sarcastically, ‘‘there were no witnesses. A guard found Lutz in a pool of blood and couldn’t say who stabbed him. They think it was most likely gang-related.’’
My left side felt thick and heavy, which meant there was no way the stabbing was gang-related. I held back from commenting, though. ‘‘So the parole hearing’s been postponed,’’ Dutch said with a sigh.
‘‘Yep. Craig said he’d keep us posted—but maybe this will give us a little more time to prepare anyway.’’
Dutch nodded. ‘‘Sounds good. You still staying for dinner or does Noel want you to get your butt home?’’
‘‘Oh, I’m staying,’’ Milo said, taking his seat. ‘‘I’ll just need to stop off and get her some flowers on the way home.’’
Later that evening, after returning all the requests for appointments, I came upstairs and found Dutch lounging on the bed in a pair of black boxer briefs with big red hearts. ‘‘Interesting underwear,’’ I said to him as I unfastened my watch and set it on the nightstand.
‘‘The interesting part’s under the underwear, babycakes,’’ Dutch said, giving his eyebrows a wiggle.
I laughed and shimmied out of my jeans, stepping over my two suitcases to toss them in a nearby pile of dirty clothes. ‘‘You know I have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, cowboy.’’
Dutch clicked the TV off and rolled over on his side to rest his handsome head on his hand and make goo-goo eyes at me. ‘‘What if I do all the work?’’ he suggested, his voice deep and throaty.
I sighed as I looked at him. I was starting to waffle. ‘‘You know,’’ I said, ‘‘I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into this morning routine, but Candice is right. I really do need to start working out.’’
‘‘Well, how about you come over here and let me give you a workout?’’
‘‘I don’t know,’’ I said as I took off my shirt and tossed it in the pile. ‘‘I may not be in the mood.’’
I watched as
‘‘Should we wait for Milo?’’ I asked as he and I took our seats.
‘‘He’ll be out in a minute. Dig in,’’ Dutch said, cutting into his steak.
I felt a little guilty, but it smelled so good and I was so hungry that I couldn’t help but cut off a piece, favoring my right side a little since the sawing motion of cutting was still very uncomfortable. Noticing the grimace on my face, Dutch asked, ‘‘You going to therapy tomorrow?’’
I nodded. ‘‘And Candice wants to see me in the gym at six a.m. sharp.’’
Dutch chuckled. ‘‘I knew that was going to work out well,’’ he said. ‘‘I’m glad she’s moved to town.’’
‘‘Want to come with me?’’ I asked, thinking that misery would sure love some company.
‘‘Can’t, babycakes. I’ve got an early meeting. Maybe the day after tomorrow.’’
‘‘You think she’ll want me to work out two days in a row ?’’
Dutch laughed. ‘‘If I know Candice, she’ll be thinking more like five.’’
I gave Dutch a horrified look as Milo reappeared, his face grim. ‘‘Noel got a call from Craig Stanton. He’s been looking for me.’’
‘‘Who’s that?’’ I asked.
‘‘The head of the parole board,’’ Dutch said to me. He turned to Milo. ‘‘What’s up?’’
‘‘Lutz was knifed this afternoon. He’s in the hospital being prepped for surgery. They’re not sure yet how serious it is.’’
There was a long silence between Milo and Dutch as the two of them seemed to be working through that. ‘‘He’ll live,’’ I said into the silence when my radar kicked in. Goose bumps formed along my arms, and in my head I saw that black dog, drooling and snarling. I knew that Dick Wolfe was behind the attack on Lutz.
‘‘That’s what you’re picking up?’’ Milo asked me.
‘‘Yeah. Give it a week. He’ll be better.’’
‘‘Did Craig say who knifed Lutz?’’
‘‘Conveniently,’’ Milo said sarcastically, ‘‘there were no witnesses. A guard found Lutz in a pool of blood and couldn’t say who stabbed him. They think it was most likely gang-related.’’
My left side felt thick and heavy, which meant there was no way the stabbing was gang-related. I held back from commenting, though. ‘‘So the parole hearing’s been postponed,’’ Dutch said with a sigh.
‘‘Yep. Craig said he’d keep us posted—but maybe this will give us a little more time to prepare anyway.’’
Dutch nodded. ‘‘Sounds good. You still staying for dinner or does Noel want you to get your butt home?’’
‘‘Oh, I’m staying,’’ Milo said, taking his seat. ‘‘I’ll just need to stop off and get her some flowers on the way home.’’
Later that evening, after returning all the requests for appointments, I came upstairs and found Dutch lounging on the bed in a pair of black boxer briefs with big red hearts. ‘‘Interesting underwear,’’ I said to him as I unfastened my watch and set it on the nightstand.
‘‘The interesting part’s under the underwear, babycakes,’’ Dutch said, giving his eyebrows a wiggle.
I laughed and shimmied out of my jeans, stepping over my two suitcases to toss them in a nearby pile of dirty clothes. ‘‘You know I have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, cowboy.’’
Dutch clicked the TV off and rolled over on his side to rest his handsome head on his hand and make goo-goo eyes at me. ‘‘What if I do all the work?’’ he suggested, his voice deep and throaty.
I sighed as I looked at him. I was starting to waffle. ‘‘You know,’’ I said, ‘‘I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into this morning routine, but Candice is right. I really do need to start working out.’’
‘‘Well, how about you come over here and let me give you a workout?’’
‘‘I don’t know,’’ I said as I took off my shirt and tossed it in the pile. ‘‘I may not be in the mood.’’
I watched as
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