At the house I found Tessa and Cheyenne in the living room, seated across from each other at a chessboard.
“Check,” Tessa said, moving her knight to h7. When she looked at me, her gaze went immediately to the bandages on my arm. “What happened?”
“I got a little scrape. How are you doing?”
“A scrape?”
Cheyenne gave me a look of concern. “Is your arm all right?”
“I’m good.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“A scrape?” Tessa repeated.
“I’m all right.”
She considered that for a moment, then her eyes drifted to my new T-shirt. “Wow. You’re really stylin’ tonight.”
“Pink is the new black.”
“Really.”
Cheyenne momentarily went back to examining the board.
“It’s hip,” I assured Tessa.
She grimaced. “Hip?”
“Trust me. I have my finger on the pulse of all that is cool.”
“Please tell me you did not just say that.”
Cheyenne slid her rook across the board, took Tessa’s knight, and said, “Mate.”
Tessa refocused on the board, and her mouth gaped open.
“Seriously, Pat.” Cheyenne rose, came toward me. “Are you okay?”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Now, no more questions about my arm.”
Tessa evaluated the board, then let out a groan. “You were setting that up for like five moves.”
“Six.”
Nice.
Tessa slumped back in her chair.
Cheyenne stood beside me now, closer than a mere co-worker would have stood. The proximity spoke for itself. “Is there anything I can do for you?” she said. “I could stay if you want, I’d just need to make a couple calls…”
Man, was that tempting. “I’ll be all right. But thanks. Really.”
She didn’t look like she exactly believed me but seemed willing to let it drop for the moment. “I brought your laptop back from the NCAVC meeting.” She pointed to the kitchen. “It’s on the table.”
“Great. Thank you.”
A slight awkwardness filtered its way into the room, and even though I’d just told her that I didn’t need her to stay, I felt a growing desire to rescind that. Cheyenne picked up her purse. “Well, I should probably be going, then.”
“Wait,” I said. “Did you guys eat yet?” It was a lame attempt at finding a way to tell her I wouldn’t mind if she hung around. “Do you need some dinner?”
“Actually, I’m supposed to be meeting someone for dinner in the city.”
“Oh.”
“Lien-hua.”
“Oh.”
“We really hit it off this afternoon. Seems we have a lot in common. She’s going to fill me in.” I expected her to elaborate, but she stopped abruptly, leaving her words open for interpretation.
Unintended consequences.
“Well, I’ll walk you to the door.” I glanced toward Tessa. “Hey, can you get your mom’s diary?”
“Why?”
“Please.”
She gave me a disapproving look but at last left for her bedroom.
Cheyenne and I crossed the room. “There’ve been a lot of developments in the case,” I said. “I’m sure Lien-hua will bring you up to speed.”
“Actually, I spoke with your boss on the phone about twenty minutes ago. She gave me a rundown.”
“Margaret?”
She nodded. “I handed in the Joint Op paperwork this afternoon. She said that as the head of the task force, she wanted to introduce herself. She told me to attend class in the morning and then come to the afternoon briefing with the rest of the team.”
“So you’ve never met her before?”
“Uh-uh.”
Huh.
“What time is the briefing?” I asked.
“It’s scheduled for 2:00, but I think it’ll depend on how the investigation progresses in the morning.”
My class started at 2:00. “I won’t make it, but maybe we can connect afterward. Catch up on the case.”
“Sounds good.”
We were at the door. “Hey,” I said, “you’ve really been a big help to me. Last night and then tonight, coming to my rescue again.”
“Didn’t I tell you? It’s my new hobby.”
“In addition to target shooting and line dancing.”
“A girl’s gotta be well-rounded.” She gave me a concerned smile. “You sure your arm is all right?”
“Yes. Listen, did Tessa tell you anything about what was going on with her this afternoon? Anything I need to know?”
Cheyenne shook her head. “She didn’t say, but it did seem to help that I was here.”
I hesitated for a moment. “I hate to keep asking you for favors, but you mentioned you’re having dinner in DC?”
“Yes.”
“Could you come to my rescue again?”
“Any time.”
I pulled out Missy Schuel’s card and jotted her home address on a sheet of paper, then handed it to Cheyenne. “Can you take the diary to Missy? She’s a lawyer for-”
“A lawyer?” Tessa was standing at the end of the hallway, holding the diary. “Why are you giving the diary to a lawyer?”
“I’ll explain everything in a couple minutes.”
“Now is good.”
“Tessa.” I tried to sound stern, fatherly. “Detective Warren needs to go.” I held out my hand. “The diary. Please. And then we can talk things through in a few minutes.”
After a brief consideration, Tessa gave me the diary, I paged through it to make sure that the letter Paul Lansing had written to Christie was still inside, then slipped a scrap sheet of paper in to bookmark it and handed the diary to Cheyenne.
Tessa watched.
“Okay,” Cheyenne said. “See you soon.”
“Thanks again.”
Then she left and Tessa and I were alone.
“All right.” My stepdaughter had her hands on her hips. “What’s going on-why did you give her my mom’s diary?”