you.â
âI donât care.â
âYes, you do. Or you would, anyway.â
âYou canât dictate my feelings,â she muttered, standing.
He stood, too. âI need to go.â
He saw her irritation in the way she picked up the tray, which made her fumble the mask tucked under her arm.
âIâll carry the tray inside,â he said, reaching for it.
âOh, you donât needâokay, okay.â She reboxed the mask, took a final sip of wine then pointed to a back door. âIt leads to the kitchen.â
There was no sign of Hilda as they made their way through the house to the foyer. He saw a small stack of mail on a chest. Sheâd arrived at the house with him, so she hadnât seen her mail yet. He tried to determine if one of the envelopes matched the one Abe had shown him, but he couldnât tell without thumbing through them.
In his experience the more specific the threat, the more likely it was to be followed through. This one was specific.
Talk to me, Dana. Tell me about the threat. Trust me.
But she didnât say anything, just looked at him with an expression he couldnât read. Hell. He wanted to kiss her again. Hold her against him. Help her. Old habits were hard to break, even after a fifteen-year interruption.
âGoodbye, Dana,â he said, turning to leave.
âBye.â A single word uttered with a slight hitch.
He ignored the way it made his gut clench and kept walking.
His mood was foul when he got back to his hotel. Twenty minutes later his cell phone rang.
âMr. Remington, itâs Abe Atwater. She got a second letter tonight.â
He mouthed a curse. âWhat was in it?â
âA veiled threat this time. âIâm waiting for your press conference. I wonât wait long.ââ
âWhat did Dana say?â
âSheâs upset, of course. Her husbandâs reputation means a great deal to her.â
Her husband. Sam tended to forget about him. âIâll call her. But unless she asks me, Iâm not getting involved in the investigation.â
âThatâs fair. Youâll let me know?â
âYes.â Sam cut him off then dialed Dana.
She answered on the third ring. âHello?â
âYou said earlier there was something I should know,â he said, keeping his voice businesslike. âI cut you off. What did you want to tell me?â
Six
D ana welcomed the opportunity to explain what sheâd tried to tell him. She sat on her bed. Her gaze landed on the note sheâd just received. âItâs about our graduation ceremony.â
âWhen you wouldnât talk to me?â
Samâs words sliced into her, the pain still fresh after all these years. Until now she could only guess how hurt heâd been. âHarley told me if I even looked at you, he and his friends would make sure you wouldnât walk again.â
His silence ratcheted up her anxiety a notch. Finally he said, âYou were protecting me?â
âOf course I was protecting you. Why does that seem ridiculous? Youâd rescued me from Harley,â she said, bringing the issue into the open. âThen when you told me not to tell the police, I did. And you were beaten up because of it. How could I possibly take the chance that something else would happen to you? How could I live with that?â
âSo instead you made me think you hated me?â
Dana looked blindly around her bedroom. A chill cameover her, whispering along her skin, raising her flesh in goose bumps. âI did what I had to do.â
âI thought you were stronger than that, Dana. Even then.â
The accusation in his voice startled her. âMeaning what?â
âIf Harley had followed through on the threat, you couldâve testified. I was safe. Or did you think he would hurt you, too?â
âI didnât think. I was scared.â
âYou shouldâve trusted me. Believed
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