through in the wood. He didn’t look at her but she could see the tension in his shoulders. “A foster sister.”
“You two close?”
“We were.”
“Were?”
“She died about nine months ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “What happened?” The question felt rude but had slipped out before she could stop it.
He faced her, his expression a mixture of sadness and anger. For a moment, she didn’t think that he would answer. “She was a cop. She was shot and killed in the line of duty.”
A hard jolt rocked her body. Sudden, violent memories of that last night in the Miami safe house slammed into her. She remembered the shots fired, the shouts and the order from Nancy Rogers to run. And God help her, like a coward she had run.
Not a day went by that she didn’t think of Nancy. She thought about the policewoman’s family. Wondered if she’d left children and family behind.
“You all right?” Dane’s voice sliced through her grief.
She swallowed unshed tears and lifted her chin. Sloppy emotion wasn’t going to bring anyone back. “Yes, I’m fine.” She sniffed and managed the bright smile she used when her brother expected her to be happy. “My goodness, how did we get on such dark topics?”
He turned back to his work. “The darkness is in all of us. And sometimes it slips out when we least expect it.”
The smile faded. “I feel surrounded by darkness. And it’s only the light that breaks through on occasion for me.”
Dane ripped the last of the wire out and started to wind it around his arm. “What do you say we have dinner tonight?”
The sudden shift threw her off balance. “Dinner? What brought that on?”
“Maybe we should let a little light in through the dark. It would do us both good to have a little fun.”
His offer tempted far too much. But she’d already proven that she had a weakness for him. “I don’t think so.”
Dane lifted a brow. The sadness had vanished and in its place was challenge. “You got something better going on with that boyfriend of yours?”
“No, Mark is working again tonight. I promised Sheridan I’d wash the wool yoga blankets.”
“So you’d prefer wet blankets over me?”
A smile tipped the edge of her lips. “You make it sound awful. I didn’t mean it that way.”
Amusement danced in his eyes. “I’ve been ditched before, but never for wet blankets.”
The sadness squeezing her heart lifted. “Fine. I’ll have dinner with you.”
He shook his head, feigning irritation. “Hey, don’t do me any favors, lady. I am not that hard up for a night out.”
Dane’s southern accent deepened, softening his words even more. She laughed. And Lord, but it felt good. “I’d like to have dinner with you.”
He nodded, clearly satisfied. “It’s a date.”
Chapter 8
C ambia finished his work for the day at the studio and drove to his motel room. Instead of getting out of the van, he sat very still for a moment. Tinted windows blocked what remained of the afternoon sun. He opened the disposable and untraceable cell phone he’d bought before he came to town. Instead of dialing, he hesitated. He dreaded what had to be done next.
The day with Kristen had gone well. There’d been no more kisses. In fact, she had been careful not to touch him. But she’d made him a lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and potato chips. She’d insisted on working if he was going to pay her so he’d given her small pieces of lumber to take to the Dumpster. She’d done the work without complaint and as the hours ticked by she’d grown more relaxed.
He was winning her trust.
And now he was going to betray her.
The idea bothered him. Far too much.
Dane flipped down his sun visor. Attached was a strip of pictures taken of Nancy and him a few years ago in one of those photo booths at the state fair. The pictures had been her idea and he’d only gone along begrudgingly. In the first shot they’d tried to be serious but by the last shot
“You two close?”
“We were.”
“Were?”
“She died about nine months ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “What happened?” The question felt rude but had slipped out before she could stop it.
He faced her, his expression a mixture of sadness and anger. For a moment, she didn’t think that he would answer. “She was a cop. She was shot and killed in the line of duty.”
A hard jolt rocked her body. Sudden, violent memories of that last night in the Miami safe house slammed into her. She remembered the shots fired, the shouts and the order from Nancy Rogers to run. And God help her, like a coward she had run.
Not a day went by that she didn’t think of Nancy. She thought about the policewoman’s family. Wondered if she’d left children and family behind.
“You all right?” Dane’s voice sliced through her grief.
She swallowed unshed tears and lifted her chin. Sloppy emotion wasn’t going to bring anyone back. “Yes, I’m fine.” She sniffed and managed the bright smile she used when her brother expected her to be happy. “My goodness, how did we get on such dark topics?”
He turned back to his work. “The darkness is in all of us. And sometimes it slips out when we least expect it.”
The smile faded. “I feel surrounded by darkness. And it’s only the light that breaks through on occasion for me.”
Dane ripped the last of the wire out and started to wind it around his arm. “What do you say we have dinner tonight?”
The sudden shift threw her off balance. “Dinner? What brought that on?”
“Maybe we should let a little light in through the dark. It would do us both good to have a little fun.”
His offer tempted far too much. But she’d already proven that she had a weakness for him. “I don’t think so.”
Dane lifted a brow. The sadness had vanished and in its place was challenge. “You got something better going on with that boyfriend of yours?”
“No, Mark is working again tonight. I promised Sheridan I’d wash the wool yoga blankets.”
“So you’d prefer wet blankets over me?”
A smile tipped the edge of her lips. “You make it sound awful. I didn’t mean it that way.”
Amusement danced in his eyes. “I’ve been ditched before, but never for wet blankets.”
The sadness squeezing her heart lifted. “Fine. I’ll have dinner with you.”
He shook his head, feigning irritation. “Hey, don’t do me any favors, lady. I am not that hard up for a night out.”
Dane’s southern accent deepened, softening his words even more. She laughed. And Lord, but it felt good. “I’d like to have dinner with you.”
He nodded, clearly satisfied. “It’s a date.”
Chapter 8
C ambia finished his work for the day at the studio and drove to his motel room. Instead of getting out of the van, he sat very still for a moment. Tinted windows blocked what remained of the afternoon sun. He opened the disposable and untraceable cell phone he’d bought before he came to town. Instead of dialing, he hesitated. He dreaded what had to be done next.
The day with Kristen had gone well. There’d been no more kisses. In fact, she had been careful not to touch him. But she’d made him a lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and potato chips. She’d insisted on working if he was going to pay her so he’d given her small pieces of lumber to take to the Dumpster. She’d done the work without complaint and as the hours ticked by she’d grown more relaxed.
He was winning her trust.
And now he was going to betray her.
The idea bothered him. Far too much.
Dane flipped down his sun visor. Attached was a strip of pictures taken of Nancy and him a few years ago in one of those photo booths at the state fair. The pictures had been her idea and he’d only gone along begrudgingly. In the first shot they’d tried to be serious but by the last shot
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