Grey Expectations Read Online Free Page B

wondered if her friend was avoiding her gaze. ‘He’s not my type.’
    It wasn’t what she’d started to say, of that Dulcie was sure. A horrible thought crept into Dulcie’s mind. ‘Tris, you don’t think that Jerry thinks  . . .’ She let it hang. Jerry was a computer geek and Chris’s best friend. Hardly the sort to act out of jealous rage. However, he did love Trista – and she had led him a merry chase for a while this past winter. ‘He wouldn’t get in a fight or anything. Would he?’
    â€˜I don’t think so.’ Trista shrugged and turned away. ‘Not Jerry.’
    â€˜Did the cops ask about him? About Jerry?’ Something was wrong. Dulcie wasn’t psychic – she didn’t believe in that stuff, not really. But something had changed.
    â€˜No, just what I told you. They came over. They asked me when I’d last seen Roland and, and  . . . that other stuff. Then they told me not to leave town for a while.’ Trista had regained her composure now and was dabbing at her nose, which was red against its little gold stud. ‘Then they left and I called you.’
    â€˜Huh.’ Dulcie couldn’t place it. And so she finished her tea. Trista seemed calmer – or at least somewhat distracted. Though she was once again walking around, her route – gathering papers, a notebook that had fallen behind the sofa, and her laptop – looked to have more purpose. In fact, as Dulcie stood up to return her mug to the kitchen, Tris followed her. Dulcie had the distinct impression that although her friend had summoned her, she now wanted Dulcie to leave.
    â€˜Well, I guess we’ll hear more. The department has probably been informed.’ She put the mug in the sink and turned to face her friend. Trista was looking at the window. By now the late twilight had faded and her own face, pale and pierced, stared back. ‘Tris  . . .’ Dulcie’s heart went out to her friend. ‘Do you want me to follow up, maybe, with Suze?’
    â€˜I guess so.’ She shrugged. Dulcie had never heard her sound so vague. Then again, all the tears must have worn her out. ‘Yeah, that would be good.’
    Exhaustion, Dulcie decided, and she leaned in to hug her friend. Trista hesitated a moment, she could feel the slender body tense up. Then she hugged her back and took a deep breath. ‘Thanks, Dulce.’ The ghost of a smile flickered on her face. ‘You’re a pal.’
    â€˜It’s nothing.’ Dulcie tried to smile back. Roland might be beyond help; Trista wasn’t. ‘Now, back to work!’
    It was a weak joke, but it relaxed them both. And Dulcie headed out into the night, trying very hard to figure out what had just happened – and why her friend was being so evasive.
    Chris was gone by the time she got home, and the kitten was sacked out on the sofa. Looking at the soft white belly, Dulcie had a sneaking feeling that Chris had given the little cat some extra treats. Sure enough, the last of the dumplings had been eviscerated, its dough wrapper lying in the trash.
    The kitten followed her into the kitchen as Dulcie made herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich: open-faced. She’d had enough of carbohydrates for the night. She brought the plate into the living room and sat opposite the couch. Esmé jumped up as if on cue, flopping on her back and squirming a bit. While the little cat didn’t seem to be in distress, she had probably had enough spiced pork for a lifetime, Dulcie decided. Well, she wouldn’t begrudge her the dumpling now.
    Besides, Esmé upside down was particularly adorable, Dulcie thought to herself as she ate. Staring at a cat always helped her concentrate, and right now her brain didn’t seem to be firing on all cylinders. The peanut butter was good, salty and rich, but she knew the snack was more procrastination than nutrition.