Double Take

before.
    Cheney saw she was still too wired. He rose, offered her his hand. “Tell you what. While Captain Paulette speaks to the officers, let’s make some coffee.”
    Captain Paulette sent his eyes heavenward. “Thank you, make it strong. Then I want all the pesky details, Mrs. Ransom.”
    It was 4:00 a.m. when Julia watched the people from the forensic unit pack up their gear and tell Captain Paulette they’d be back to finish digging the bullets out of the walls in the morning. “Lots of flying lead,” one of the techs said. “We’ve already marked several drops of his blood inside the house and outside on the walkway. We’ve got maybe another couple of hours tomorrow.”
    Captain Paulette said to her, “I called the cops off your house after it was quiet last night, had them doing drive-bys tonight. Sorry, bad call. You’ll have full-time protection again. I should take your gun in but I won’t, particularly after I went to so much trouble getting you a permit on Cheney’s say-so.”
    “Thank you, Captain Paulette. I fully plan to keep sleeping with my SIG.”
    Julia and Cheney watched Captain Paulette detour to a patrol car parked at the curb. She said to Cheney, “Thanks for volunteering to stay. Even with officers right outside, I’m scared down to my bones. I want to say I can take care of myself—I mean, I sure did tonight, didn’t I? But, well, still, I appreciate it. Follow me, I’ll show you to a guest room.”
    She paused a moment, eyed him up and down. “I don’t think the bougainvillea room is quite in your style. It’s too girly-girl. I’ll take you to August’s room.”
    It was a large bedroom with a big window that gave onto the bay, with wallpaper that reminded him of the middle of a forest in the deep fall. It was soothing, as mellow as a good massage. “There should be birds chirping.”
    “They hibernate with the bears. There are toiletries in the bathroom, even two different bristle strength toothbrushes.” She showed him more of her dead husband’s clothes and left him to the forest with its magnificent view.
    Cheney called after her, “Leave your bedroom door open.”
    “I’m not about to sleep in my bed tonight. I’ll be right down the hall—with the door open. You can count on it. Thanks again for staying, Cheney. I guess I’m a little spooked.”
    “You’re allowed.”
    She nodded, gave him a tentative smile and walked down the wide corridor away from him. He could tell she was dragging. He hoped she’d be deeply asleep before too long.
    As for himself, he was out as soon as he pulled the thick duvet to his chin.

CHAPTER 18
    Cheney awoke with a start to the sound of a woman’s voice singing an aria from Madame Butterfly, one of the few operas he liked. He lay with his eyes closed, and listened. It was a beautiful voice, with good range. He didn’t move until she finished.
    He cleaned himself up, brushed his teeth with the extra-firm-bristle toothbrush, and went downstairs to the kitchen to see Julia Ransom bending over to pull muffins out of the oven.
    He drew in a deep breath. Blueberry, his favorite.
    He didn’t want to startle her so he waited until she set the pan onto one of the top burners.
    “Smells great.”
    She whirled around, nearly lunged for the gun sitting on the end of the counter. “Oh. Good morning, Cheney. It’s still early. I wanted to—”
    She was wearing jeans, ballet flats, and a white shirt, her hair in a French braid. And she was wearing lipstick, he saw, a pretty pale peach color, and some makeup to cover her bruise. She wore no jewelry except for small silver hoops in her ears.
    He said, “I was sleeping in my forest bed when the most incredible music began playing in my head. Madame Butterfly, right?”
    “Yes, it’s my favorite. I’m sorry if I woke you up. Sometimes the songs come out of my mouth and I don’t realize, that is, usually I’m alone and I guess I didn’t think—”
    “It’s all right, Julia. You have a beautiful voice.” The microwave pinged. “Thank you. Please sit down. I’ve got breakfast going here.”
    He looked at his watch. “The forensic team will be back soon.”
    “ I was looking at some of the bullet holes, so much of the beautiful old wood gouged out. They’ll get his DNA from the blood, won’t they?”
    “Yes. Did you study voice? Sing professionally?” She shook her head as she poured him a cup of coffee, then moved to the stove to scramble some eggs. “Well, for one