8
Tea and Sympathy
“Just what the hell did you think you were doing?” Calvin asked.
At least he’d waited until I staggered out of the water, jeans dripping, before he started the interrogation.
“Looking around,” I replied. I’d already figured there wasn’t much point in trying to cover up what I’d been doing, so I thought it was better to tell the truth. “I was hoping I could pick up on any vibes that might help point me toward Lucien’s murderer.”
“‘Vibes,’” Calvin repeated, expression still irritated. Then his eyes narrowed slightly. “How did you know this was the place where he was killed?”
Despite everything — and despite my waterlogged clothes and boots — I couldn’t quite hold back an inner rush of triumph. So, my pendulum had led me to the right spot. “My pendulum,” I answered.
