California Moon. Catherine Lanigan

      10

      “I said, who the hell are you?” A short, stocky young man dressed in a worn bathrobe stood in front of Ben holding a Glock.

      “The police.” Ben held up his badge. “You got a permit for that gun?”

      “Damn straight I do.” Elliot’s hand trembled.

      The cat purred in the corner.

      Elliot took a deep breath and lowered the gun, uncocked it and stuck it, and his hands, in the robe’s pockets.

      “You must be her boyfriend,” Ben said.

      “I wish,” he said, still not stepping over the threshold. “I’m Elliot Wilson, Shannon’s neighbor. Shannon doesn’t have, er, relationships. On that, she and I agree.”

      “Really?”

      “Yeah.” Elliot’s eyes scoured Ben yet gave no hint to his conclusions. “What did she do?” he chuckled. “Forget to pay a parking ticket? ’Cuz if it’s anything more than that, you’re off base. Way off.”

      “You’re pretty protective for being just a friend.”

      Elliot took his hands out of his pockets and balled them at his sides. “Yeah, and you’re more than just a cop.”

      “Not really. I was working at the hospital with Shannon.”

      “She never said anything about the police.”

      “It wasn’t for public knowledge.”

      “She’s good at keeping secrets.”

      “Is that so?”

      Elliot nodded. “She never talks about personal stuff. Better still, she keeps her yap shut about anything I tell her. I like that in a woman. In anybody.”

      Ben watched Elliot as he spoke, thinking the guileless man more honest than most people.

      Elliot looked down at his frayed slippers. “She isn’t hurt, is she?”

      “No, nothing like that.”

      “But you’re not sure.”

      “I just wanted to talk to her,” Ben said. “The important question is if you’ve seen her tonight.”