Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I shrug a moment. “I guess that makes sense.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I mean, if they have expensive jewelry in there or something.”
“Oh, they wouldn’t have that. They keep all of that kind of stuff in the safe. It’s in the family room, behind the gun cabinet.”
I grew up around guns. I learned to shoot when I was a kid. So the fact that CJ mentioned a gun cabinet shouldn’t make the back of my neck go cold.
But for some reason, it does.
I shrug it off.
My body doesn’t react the same way it used to before I was sick. Things change. So much poison was pumped into me, my nerves don’t react the way they normally do.
That’s all this is, obviously.
“Why wouldn’t they want you going into their room then?”
She shrugs. “Heck if I know. They’re probably just private. But who cares? I have no desire to see their room anyway. I mean, like what if they’re into bondage or something?” She lets out a shudder.
I laugh. “That could be one reason they don’t want you in there.”
“Though I doubt it,” she says. “Mrs. P is about as uptight as they get. The pearl-clutching kind of uptight, if you know what I mean.”
I nod. “Yup. I’m familiar.”
CJ crosses the large kitchen to the fridge and opens it, scanning its contents. “I’ve got all kinds of things we can whip up for lunch. I’m not a huge cook, as I said, but Marian made some awesome chicken salad last night for dinner. There are leftovers, and it will be great on some sourdough bread. I can add some lettuce and tomato. And there’s some chips. Plus Diet Coke. Does that sound good?”
I glance inside the refrigerator. “Do you happen to have Orange Crush?”
She clamps her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, Ray. Are you still drinking that stuff?”
I smile. “Tastes just like sunshine.”
She moves some items in the fridge around, frowning. “I wish I had a can for you. I remember you stocked your dorm room minifridge to the brim with it. All I’ve got is some bottled water and Diet Coke. There might be some apple juice or orange juice. Would OJ be a good substitute?”
I chuckle. “Tastes too real. I need the artificial, neon-dyed goodness that is Orange Crush. But
Diet Coke or water is fine.” I smile at her.
“Go ahead and take a seat at the counter there. I’ll get our sandwiches made.”
I sit at the island, admiring the gorgeous marble countertop streaked in black and gold. “I can’t get over how gorgeous this marble is,” I say.
“Oh yeah. Apparently they had it imported from Italy. One giant slab that they cut to size. Incredible, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I mean, my mom has gorgeous granite countertops in her kitchen, but this is something else entirely.”
“I know.” CJ slices off several slices of bread from a golden-brown loaf and heaps chicken salad on top of each one. She adds some crisp lettuce and a few slices of tomato. “You want onion?”
“No, thanks.”
“Good enough.” She slices a few thin slivers of red onion onto her own sandwich but leaves mine alone.
She sets them on the counter, sliding mine in front of me along with a snack-size bag of chips and a can of Diet Coke. “Bon appétit,” she says.
I grab a napkin from the napkin holder on the counter and place it in my lap. Then I take a bite of the sandwich. “Wow, it’s delicious. So crunchy.”
“Marian put celery and water chestnuts in it. Makes it really crunchy.”
“Delicious too. Is that apple?”
“Yep. Just a bit of Granny Smith. I watch her in the kitchen sometimes.” She snags a napkin and wipes her chin. “Thinking maybe I’ll learn through osmosis.”
I swallow and give her a chuckle. “Well, this is amazing chicken salad.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
I continue eating, but then jerk when the doorbell rings.
CJ swallows her bite of sandwich and rises. “They have that big non-soliciting sign right out front, but it doesn’t stop them. I swear I answer this door nine to ten times a day.” She whisks away. “Be right back.”
I finish my sandwich while she’s gone and open my bag of chips.
I eat one, savoring the crunchiness and saltiness. Food tastes so good now. I mean, look at this potato chip. A thinly sliced piece of potato fried in oil and salted. That’s all it is. And my God, it’s delicious.
I finish the chips and drain my Diet Coke when I realize CJ hasn’t come back yet.
I hear her talking at the door with someone, but I can’t make out what either of them are saying.
I get up, walk out of the kitchen and toward the doorway, and then I gasp.
26
VINNIE
“Vinnie? What are you doing here?”
My gaze meets Raven Bellamy’s.
I stop my jaw from dropping.
What the hell is she doing here in Giacomo Puzo’s home?