Chapter 29

I tapped the pen against my teeth, then wrote. I’ve been called out of town….. No, that was no good. I wanted him to think I’d left because it had been fun, but now it was over. I tore it up, tried again, and stared at the results in disgust. How the fuck could I misspell “touch”? Hasta la vista, baby? Fuck it, was I channeling Arnold Schwarzenegger now? After three tries I still wasn’t happy with it, but I hada shuttle I needed to catch, and I was shit out of time. I scribbled down something without giving it any more thought and left the note where he would see it, propped onhis pillow.

Leaving his house key next to the note had to give him a clue that I wouldn’t be staying with him when I returned.

I made sure the alarm was reset, pulled the door shut behind me, and jogged down the walk to my car.

* * * *

Funeral homes all seemed to smell the same: refrigerated air, the cloying scent of flowers at war with each other, and underlying it all, the telltale odor of death.