"Perhaps. Evans is waiting, though."
"And it might not hurt to keep him waiting. Let him stew a little. I'll text and say I can't make it right away, but I'll be there by noon." I stood and dumped the rest of my coffee. "Let's go speak to this subject."
He stood. "All right, then. My office is on the way. We'll pick up that police report."
Chapter Sixty-one
I waited on the front stoop while Gabriel brought the car. If he'd left the Jag in front of my apartment overnight, by morning everyone in Cainsville would know he'd stayed over, and that was just awkward.
As I waited, a figure crossed Rowan down at Main Street. He paused, shielding his eyes against the rising sun and then headed in my direction.
It was Patrick, laptop bag slung over his shoulder. I walked to meet him.
"Getting an early start?" I said, waving at his bag.
"The muse is a fickle bitch. Woke me at five. You're up early yourself. I hope that means you're taking Susie's shift. I've been meaning to talk to you. I dug up a few things you might find useful."
As I was saying that I wasn't working toda
y, Gabriel's car rounded the corner.
"Ah, so you are working," he said. "Just not at the diner. And you're back with Gabriel. The old folks will be happy to hear it. They were terribly worried, you know."
I was saved from a reply by the purr of the Jag sliding to the corner. I bent to tap the passenger window, but the driver's door was already opening, Gabriel getting out.
"Gabriel," Patrick said. "Good to see you."
Gabriel dipped his chin as he said hello, his shades off. A respectful greeting, like the ones he'd give the town elders.
"Patrick was just telling me he had some research notes," I said. "And I was just going to ask if he has a second to talk about them now."
"Yes, of course." Gabriel waved to my building. "We'll go inside."
"Mmm, better not," Patrick said. "Grace ... isn't exactly a fan. How about Rose's place?"
"It's a bit early for my aunt." Gabriel's tone was oddly apologetic, as if torn between waking his aunt and offending Patrick. I guess I wasn't the only one who caught those odd vibes from the young writer, the ones that warned to tread carefully around him.
"Oh, I think it'll be fine today," Patrick said. "In fact, I think you're about two seconds from being summoned."
We turned to see Rose in her open doorway. She was wearing a robe and slippers, watching us, as if waiting for a moment to interrupt.
As we walked over, Gabriel said, "You're up early. Do you mind if we come in? Patrick wanted to speak to us, and the curb doesn't quite seem the place to do it."
Rose nodded. Something was bothering her--I didn't need an omen to see that--but Gabriel only apologized for the intrusion as he held the door. Patrick waved me in. Then he paused, hand on the door frame.
"May I?" he asked Rose. "It is very early."
"Yes, of course," she said, her tone distracted. "You're always welcome, Patrick. You know that."
He smiled and crossed the threshold.
Rose murmured that she'd make tea. I said that wasn't necessary, but she insisted and asked Gabriel to help her. They left as Patrick and I headed into Rose's parlor.
"She's seen something," Patrick murmured. "That's what has her up so early, worried about Gabriel. Whatever you two planned for today, you may want to reconsider."
"You believe in it, then?" I said.
"The sight?" His brows shot up. "You might as well ask if I believe in oxygen. I can't see it, but I'm quite certain it's there."