“Of course,” he said. “But if I’m going to be spending more than just one night here, at some point I need to go get my clothes.”
I told him that Tom would like him to stay with us for a while, at least until Dusty’s murder was solved, but only if he could swing it with the bistro where he was working. Julian promised he’d be able to switch some shifts. But he still needed clothes, he reminded me, or a car to go get them in. We agreed to go to Boulder the next afternoon, Sunday, after the service.
I rummaged around in the freezer until I found an oblong dish full of spaghetti and meatballs that I had made for one of the fund-raisers at Christian Brothers High School. I wrote out directions for heating it. Before starting for the Routts’ house, I asked Julian to come out onto the front po
