Chapter 8
As Matt used a pair of tongs to extract the chuck roast from the slow cooker, he threw a worried glance at the clock above the stove. Vic should’ve been home by now. Usually Matt picked up the threads of their mental connection when Vic was only two blocks from their apartment, and the signal strengthened as he approached. But here it was almost eight thirty in the evening, and no sign of him yet…
In the foyer, a key scraped in the lock on the front door, startling Matt. The roast slid from the tongs to splash into the liquid at the bottom of the slow cooker. “s**t,” Matt muttered, grabbing a nearby hand towel to wipe up the counter. In the other room, he heard the front door open and shut, and the clatter of keys as they dropped to the phone table. Raising his voice, Matt cal
