Heywood Duggan said, slipping into the all-night coffee shop booth across from Detective Rona Wedmore. He had to squeeze himself in. He wasn’t a fat man, but he was big, and there wasn’t any room between his stomach and the edge of the table. “Sorry to call you so late,” Wedmore said. “And to be so mysterious.” Heywood grinned, flashing his pearl white teeth. He still had that gap between the two top ones. Back when they were seeing each other, he’d talked about getting that fixed, but Rona had told him it gave him character. “It’s good to see you,” he said, placing his meaty palms flat down on the table. “I don’t get called out to midnight meetings with beautiful women all that often.” “Oh, shut up,” Wedmore said, slipping her own hands down to her lap, not wanting to give him the opportunity to reach out and hold hers, which she figured he might do at some point. Not that there wasn’t some part of her that didn’t long for his touch after all this time.
