It didn’t take psychoanalysis to figure out why I kept his kitchen stuff, but not the bedroom.Clint was missionarying me, lying on top, with some co...siderable enthusiasm. Being a professional detective, licensed, I deduced that visions of little sugar plumb fairies were tap-dancing in his noggin.I said, “The redhead?”He didn’t pause, just shook his head, “Blondie.”We were propped up in Matt’s bed, my sheets and pillows. Clint had his arm around my shoulders; I rested my head on his thick, solid. I was still asleep but my cousin (David) had gotten there and would be watching me for the next week. My mom is a great cook and had made all sorts of casseroles and other foods which she left in the refrigerator. She also left us some money so that one or two of the nights we could go out to eat. The only problem was that I wouldn't g ET to spend the whole week with David c because I had three dance classes that David would have to take me to. That wasn't a problem because he had been to a. More

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