Chapter Twenty-FourWhen they all trailed out of the Whistling Pig, the afternoon’s first belated sunbeams were sparkling in the surrounding treetops like a canopy of emeralds. Caroline and Carlo waved as they drove off. Edgar and Lydia, parked next to each other, lingered to shake off rain gear and stow it in their respective back seats.
Lydia suspected that Edgar also wanted to make sure she was sober enough to drive. He seemed untouched by his two gin-and-tonics, which struck her as grossly unfair. But then (she recalled) he’d eaten his usual three-course lunch, whereas she’d gulped down a scoop of leftover potato salad before heading for police headquarters.
As soon as she got home, microwave a burrito and heap it with salsa. Cut up that avocado—was there cheese?
Or grab some fresh a
