Body Double: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

remains. They each picked up a box and carried them across the field, to his vehicle.
    “After today, I think you owe me dinner, Daljeet,” she said.
    “Restaurant Julien, I promise. Next time I’m down in Boston.”
    “Believe me, I plan to collect.”
    He loaded the boxes into his car and shut the door. Then they shook hands, filthy palm to filthy palm. She waved as he drove away. Most of the search team had already left; only a few cars remained.
    Ballard’s Explorer was among them.
    She paused in the deepening dusk and looked at the clearing. He was standing near the woods, talking to Detective Corso, his back to her. She lingered, hoping that he would notice she was about to leave.
    And then what? What did she want to happen between them?
    Get out of here before you make an idiot of yourself.
    Abruptly she turned and walked to her car. Started the engine and pulled away so quickly the tires spun.
    Back in the cottage, she peeled off her soiled clothes. Took a long shower, lathering up twice to wash away every trace of the oily mosquito repellant. When she stepped out of the bathroom, she realized she had no more clean clothes to change into. She had planned on staying only one night in Fox Harbor.
    She opened the closet door and gazed at Anna’s clothes. They were all her size. What else was she going to wear? She pulled out a summer dress. It was white cotton, a little girlish for her taste, but on this warm and humid evening, it was just what she felt like wearing. Slipping the dress over her head, she felt the kiss of sheer fabric against her skin, and wondered when the last time was that Anna had smoothed this dress over her own hips, when had she last looped the sash around her waist. The creases were still there, marking the fabric where Anna had tied the knot. Everything I see and touch of hers still bears her imprint, she thought.
    The ringing telephone made her turn and face the nightstand. Somehow she knew, even before she picked it up, that it was Ballard.
    “I didn’t see you leave,” he said.
    “I came back to the house to take a shower. I was such a mess.”
    He laughed. “I’m feeling pretty grungy myself.”
    “When are you driving back to Boston?”
    “It’s already so late in the day. I think I might as well just stay another night. What about you?”
    “I don’t really feel like driving back tonight, either.”
    A moment passed.
    “Did you find a hotel room here?” she asked.
    “I brought my tent and sleeping bag with me. I’m staying at a campground up the road.”
    It took her five seconds to make a decision. Five seconds to consider the possibilities. And the consequences.
    “There’s a spare room here,” she said. “You’re welcome to use it.”
    “I hate to barge in on you.”
    “The bed’s just sitting here, Rick.”
    A pause. “That’d be great. But on one condition.”
    “What’s that?”
    “You let me bring you dinner. There’s a take-out place down on Main Street. Nothing fancy, maybe just some boiled lobsters.”
    “I don’t know about you, Rick. But in my book, lobsters definitely qualify as fancy.”
    “Do you want wine or beer?”
    “Tonight feels like a beer night.”
    “I’ll be there in about an hour. Save your appetite.”
    She hung up, and suddenly realized she was starving. Only moments ago, she’d been too tired to drive into town, and had considered skipping dinner and simply going to bed early. Now she was hungry, not just for food but for company as well.
    She wandered the house, restless and driven by too many contradictory desires. Only a few nights ago, she had shared dinner with Daniel Brophy. But the church had long ago laid claim to Daniel, and she would never be in the running. Hopeless causes might be seductive, but they seldom brought you happiness.
    She heard the rumble of thunder and went to the screen door. Outside, dusk had deepened to night. Though she saw no lightning flashes, the air itself seemed charged. Electric with possibilities. Raindrops began to patter on the roof. At first it was only a few hesitant taps, then the sky opened up like a hundred drummers pounding overhead. Thrilled by the storm’s power, she stood on the porch and watched the rain pour down, and felt the welcome blast of cool air ripple her dress, lift her hair.
    A pair of headlights cut through the silvery downpour.
    She stood perfectly still on the porch, her heart pounding like the rain, as the car pulled up in front of the house.