Glass Houses by Terri Nolan Page B

fun.”
    They chuckled as they walked toward the house to finish processing the home office. Thom dropped the cigarette butt into the coffee cup on the planter next to the folded newspaper. Someone had written the words Police Fags on the side.
    _____
    Spenser ducked into the Lawrence office and said directly to Thom, “Press just landed.”
    â€œThey’ll have to get by with external shots and speculation.”
    â€œThey already know that Dominic Lawrence and his family were murdered.”
    â€œThere’s no word from the detective in charge. They can contact Media Relations.”
    â€œRoger that,” said Spenser as he left the room, his gaze avoiding George.
    â€œWhat am I? Chopped liver all of a sudden?”
    â€œHe’s probably embarrassed,” said Thom. “The press will go nuts over shots of four body bags coming out. Especially the miniatures. See what you can do about setting up a screen.”
    Just then someone yelled, “Coroner’s here.”
    Thom flicked his wrist toward George.
    â€œYay,” said George. “Dinner with Birdie’s buffed-out, former Marine, Deputy Detective boyfriend. Lucky you.”
    â€œLook at the bright side. Food gives me energy. Rest gives me stamina. Requirements for a thorough investigation.”
    â€œWhat does booze give you?”
    â€œThe ability to deal with it all.”

thirteen
    Thom passed Birdie’s second floor office. The drawn tapestry curtain meant one thing. Privacy please. As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, a black pug ran full out toward him, nails scratching the tile. She skidded to an abrupt stop and performed a doggie dance of excited circles.
    â€œHey, Louise,” said Thom. “Nice to see you, too.” He knelt to rub her head. “Come on, girl, give me a kiss.” Louise licked his face.
    Ron, dishtowel over his shoulder, greeted Thom with a hug—a quick chest bump and a slap on the back. “Thomas, my friend, I hope you’re hungry.”
    â€œStarving. Been working all day on cold caffeine and nicotine.”
    â€œDinner’s tardy. I can offer an appetizer.” Ron uncapped a bottle of Booker’s bourbon and poured three fingers into a Waterford lowball, pressed it into Thom’s palm.
    Thom took a big pull. “Good shit, man, thanks.”
    â€œAnytime,” said Ron. “Louise has a new trick. Interested?”
    â€œHell, yeah.”
    â€œLOUISE, roll over.”
    The dog lay on her back, feet in the air.
    â€œLOUISE, play dead.”
    She opened her mouth and hung out her tongue.
    Thom guffawed. Endorphins warmed his belly, cleared his head. He enjoyed the feeling.
    Ron’s satisfied grin was quickly erased. “Birdie wants to see you before dinner.”
    â€œSounds serious.”
    â€œSorry, man.”
    Yeah, Thom had a feeling. He was thankful for Birdie’s help today, but he wasn’t keen to discuss the Lawrence case. He wanted a good meal and a full night’s sleep. As he noiselessly parted the tapestry and entered Birdie’s office, he noted how the computer monitor held her intense interest. It lit her complexion with a bluish glow. When she became aware of Thom’s presence she casually and discretely closed a book. A thin thing. Black leather with gilt edges like a fancy journal. Her hand nudged it into an open desk drawer. As she turned to greet Thom her right hand turned off the monitor and the left quietly closed the drawer. It was all so graceful and deliberate. And his first thought was, w hat is she hiding ?
    She leaned over the desk, kissed him in greeting, and sat back down.
    Thom knew that despite the sleeveless cotton sundress, this conversation was going to be business, thus, the desk barrier. He determined to drag her off course.
    â€œLook at you,” said Thom, reaching over and pinching a bicep. “Ron is whipping you into great shape.”
    â€œIn more ways than