His mouth twisted into his version of a determined grin as he telepathically assured me back that he would do his best. His best was pretty darn good, so I was satisfied with that.

Robin’s gaze darted around my living room; then she stared at her hands in dismay. “Can I take a shower first?”

“No, honey,” I said gently. “You might destroy evidence, and the more evidence we destroy, the worse it’ll look to the police.”

Derek’s expression of surprise almost made me laugh. Believe me, it was a shock to hear myself say that, too, because, you know, been there, done that, tried to wash off the evidence. But I guess I’d learned a little something from being involved in so many murders over the past six months. I wouldn’t say I was starting to think like a cop, but at least I was no longer doing the kinds of stupid things that invariably led to my name being put at the top of the suspect list.

“There’s one thing we can do,” Derek said, looking at me. “If you have a clean cloth to spare, I’ll wipe the blood off Robin’s hands and give the cloth to the police.”

“Thank you,” Robin whispered.

“Perfect,” I said, flashing a grateful smile at Derek.

He took care of washing off her hands, then left the room to change into street clothes. I took his place on the coffee table and leaned forward to grab hold of Robin’s arms. “I want you to know you won’t go through this alone. Things will get better eventually, but it’s going to be slow and awful for a while.”

“I know you’ll be there for me,” she said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. “That’s why I came here.”

“Oh, come on,” I teased. “You came here because you knew Derek would be here.”

“Well, that, too. I’m really glad he’s here.”