Chapter 10

“You don’t have to give me a massage,” Brian said, “but you’re welcome to hang out and wait if you want. Help yourself to whatever’s in the refrigerator.”

Angel laughed. “Brian, honey,” he scoffed, “there’s barely anything in your refrigerator, I already looked.”

“Oh, shit, yeah. I meant to get groceries.”

“Is there a spare key?” Angel asked. “I can get groceries.”

“Yeah, on that side table in the entryway,” Brian said, trusting Angel. “In the little green pot. I’ll text you the code for the building, and there’s a bodega or two around the block.”

“Sweet,” Angel said, sounding pleased. “Text me your shopping list, and let me know what you want to eat when you get back.”

“Um, okay,” Brian said, then spotted Raymond making his way over with the pot of oatmeal. “I gotta go. I’ll text you.”

“Sure,” Angel said. “Have a good day, Detective.”