sneakers, jeans and a t-shirt. Occasionally he mixed it up by adding a hoodie. If he drank, he would most likely get carded because he still looked fifteen.
Finally she realized he had stopped speaking. She was safely inside her house, so they disconnected and she went to bed.
Chapter 6
Two days later Link Stone stood outside Liza Benson’s house with his figurative hat in his hand. The more he had learned about her the last couple of days, the more anxious he became to make amends. He had expected to have his suspicions confirmed and find she was as nutty as a fruitcake. Instead she was a mild-mannered schoolteacher whose only brush with the law had been a couple of speeding tickets. He had been so desperate to find something on her that he tracked down the actual tickets to read the disposition, hoping to see the officers note her mental instability, but they both commented on her politeness.
He finally raised his hand to knock. When she answered, he knew he was in trouble. His last vestige of belief in her lunacy had been her hair. No one normal had hair that bad. But now she stood before him polished and pretty from the top of her dark brown head to the tips of her perfectly manicured toes. He had taken what was obviously the worst hair day in history as a sign of her insanity, and now he was going to have to eat a whole lot of crow. If she complained about his behavior, he could end up stationed in Antarctica .
It was too much to hope for a friendly smile, but her wounded expression cut him deeply. He must have been more brusque with her than he realized, or she was extremely sensitive.
“Have you come to finish the job and embarrass me to death?” she asked.
He winced. “Miss Benson, may I come in? I have some things I would like to discuss with you.”
She arched an eyebrow at him.
“It’s about your case.”
Her arms crossed over her chest.
“I’ve been looking into things since we spoke.”
She tapped her bare foot impatiently.
“All right, I’m sorry. Geez,” he blurted, and immediately regretted his harsh tone. If she was sensitive, he had probably ruined any headway he was trying to make.
Instead of closing the door in his face she left it open and turned to the kitchen. He thought it was his cue to leave until she spoke.
“Do you want some iced tea? It’s hot outside.”
Relief washed over him. He closed the door and followed her to the kitchen. “Tea sounds great.” Groveling can make a man thirsty, he realized. He sat at the kitchen table without being invited and froze, uncertain if he should get back up and wait for an invitation. He wasn’t normally so unsure of himself, but he didn’t normally mess up this badly. Or if he did, he didn’t usually care about making things right again.
She poured him a large glass of tea and set out a plate of cookies. He nibbled one tentatively and found it was delicious. It looked and tasted homemade. The women of his acquaintance didn’t usually bake. He gobbled down another before remembering he was here for information and not an after school snack.
The way she was watching him didn’t help, with a benign smile like she was his mom and he had just finished all his vegetables.
“Is it all right if I verify some information with you?” he asked.
She nodded and folded her hands on the table in front of her.
“Your name is Elizabeth Benson.”
She nodded.
“And your nickname is Liza.”
Another nod.
He looked up from the pad of paper in front of him. “Isn’t that an unusual nickname for someone so young?”
She wrinkled her nose at him. He ducked his head to hide his smile. She had freckles on her nose. Cute, very cute.
“Why do your parents live in Singapore ?” He worked to keep the suspicion out of his tone. Singapore was a hotbed of international crime right now.
“They’re missionaries.”
He frowned. That was an unexpected answer. “Is that where you grew up?”
“No. I grew up in Brighton , a couple of
Finally she realized he had stopped speaking. She was safely inside her house, so they disconnected and she went to bed.
Chapter 6
Two days later Link Stone stood outside Liza Benson’s house with his figurative hat in his hand. The more he had learned about her the last couple of days, the more anxious he became to make amends. He had expected to have his suspicions confirmed and find she was as nutty as a fruitcake. Instead she was a mild-mannered schoolteacher whose only brush with the law had been a couple of speeding tickets. He had been so desperate to find something on her that he tracked down the actual tickets to read the disposition, hoping to see the officers note her mental instability, but they both commented on her politeness.
He finally raised his hand to knock. When she answered, he knew he was in trouble. His last vestige of belief in her lunacy had been her hair. No one normal had hair that bad. But now she stood before him polished and pretty from the top of her dark brown head to the tips of her perfectly manicured toes. He had taken what was obviously the worst hair day in history as a sign of her insanity, and now he was going to have to eat a whole lot of crow. If she complained about his behavior, he could end up stationed in Antarctica .
It was too much to hope for a friendly smile, but her wounded expression cut him deeply. He must have been more brusque with her than he realized, or she was extremely sensitive.
“Have you come to finish the job and embarrass me to death?” she asked.
He winced. “Miss Benson, may I come in? I have some things I would like to discuss with you.”
She arched an eyebrow at him.
“It’s about your case.”
Her arms crossed over her chest.
“I’ve been looking into things since we spoke.”
She tapped her bare foot impatiently.
“All right, I’m sorry. Geez,” he blurted, and immediately regretted his harsh tone. If she was sensitive, he had probably ruined any headway he was trying to make.
Instead of closing the door in his face she left it open and turned to the kitchen. He thought it was his cue to leave until she spoke.
“Do you want some iced tea? It’s hot outside.”
Relief washed over him. He closed the door and followed her to the kitchen. “Tea sounds great.” Groveling can make a man thirsty, he realized. He sat at the kitchen table without being invited and froze, uncertain if he should get back up and wait for an invitation. He wasn’t normally so unsure of himself, but he didn’t normally mess up this badly. Or if he did, he didn’t usually care about making things right again.
She poured him a large glass of tea and set out a plate of cookies. He nibbled one tentatively and found it was delicious. It looked and tasted homemade. The women of his acquaintance didn’t usually bake. He gobbled down another before remembering he was here for information and not an after school snack.
The way she was watching him didn’t help, with a benign smile like she was his mom and he had just finished all his vegetables.
“Is it all right if I verify some information with you?” he asked.
She nodded and folded her hands on the table in front of her.
“Your name is Elizabeth Benson.”
She nodded.
“And your nickname is Liza.”
Another nod.
He looked up from the pad of paper in front of him. “Isn’t that an unusual nickname for someone so young?”
She wrinkled her nose at him. He ducked his head to hide his smile. She had freckles on her nose. Cute, very cute.
“Why do your parents live in Singapore ?” He worked to keep the suspicion out of his tone. Singapore was a hotbed of international crime right now.
“They’re missionaries.”
He frowned. That was an unexpected answer. “Is that where you grew up?”
“No. I grew up in Brighton , a couple of
Similar Books
