Chapter 22

He turns back as Jim comes out, dressed in a pair of dark pressed pants and a pale pink Oxford shirt tucked in at the waist. The sleeves are rolled up, thank God, Alan thinks. He’d feel as if he had to roll his back down, too, if Jim’s were. The detective’s usual tie is missing, and instead of wearing a suit jacket, he has a tan blazer slung over his shoulder, which gives him a more casual appearance than Alan is used to seeing.

Not that I’m complaining.

“Hey, you look handsome,” Alan says, then hurries to add, “Not that you don’t normally, but—”

“Thanks.” Jim locks the door, then rattles the knob to make sure it’s locked. “You look really good, too.”

Alan shrugs. “Eh, I clean up nice.” Then he laughs, a little self-conscious. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

That earns him a warm smile. “It’s been what, two days?” They last saw each other Wednesday morning at the Brew, where they shared cups of coffee before work.