13 Chapter 13

Until Brendan returned and made a beeline for the table, his eyes wide and appreciative.

Jeremy eased into the seat opposite him, trying to hide his sudden awkward shyness. He cleared his throat. “So…how is the case going? Are there any leads? Would Mike share if there were?”

“It’s not, no, and no.” Brendan had his fork and spoon in hand, using the latter to help wind spaghetti around the tines. “I’ve been after him for the past two days, trying to get him to tell me anything. The only reason I know it’s not going well is because I can read Chief. The worse a case is, the grumpier he gets.” He shoveled a big bite into his mouth and almost immediately groaned, his eyes drifting shut. “Oh, my God, this is so good,” he said around his food.

Jeremy crinkled his eyes. “It’s just spaghetti. With sauce from a jar. Though it is Paul Newman’s brand. Only the best for my guest, that’s what I always say.”