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He blanched as if she’d slapped him. It was only last night that he’d begged her forgiveness and she’d granted it. She’d been sincere in that moment, hadn’t she? She’d told him so with her body, when they’d made love right afterward. So what was she doing now? Taking it all back?
God, it was too much. The stress of the investigation. The fear that loving Jonah would only result in more pain. The doubt that they’d be able to overcome the past. Especially now that she knew Adriana’s betrayal had been far more purposeful than she’d ever indicated before…
Finally locating her keys, Francesca opened the door and stepped inside, blocking them both out. “I need to be alone.”
She could feel Jonah’s confusion. It matched her own. But she didn’t want to be responsible for how he felt, didn’t want to be the one in the wrong.
Tears streaked Adriana’s face. “Francesca, I—”
Francesca refused to look at her. “Please, don’t apologize. I’m tired of sorry. I just want to be able to forget.”
A muscle twitched in Jonah’s cheek. “Will that ever be possible?”
Fighting tears of her own, Francesca closed her eyes. “I guess not. Maybe it’s better if I don’t have any more to do with either one of you,” she said, and shut the door.
* * *
Jonah dropped his head. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of, what he’d tried to avoid by going back to California. Instead of staying there, however, and letting the police take care of business here, he’d returned to Arizona and to Francesca. He’d allowed his hopes to rise, recommitted himself to the relationship and…and now this.
“She’s still in love with you,” Adriana said.
Jonah had all but forgotten she was standing next to him. He’d been too busy recalling Francesca’s unhappy expression as she closed the door in his face to notice or care about anything else. “Love isn’t the problem. It never was.” The problem was fear. Fear had caused the first breakup and would likely cause the second.
Adriana wiped her eyes. “Maybe love’s not the problem, but it’s the solution, right?”
He looked over at her. “Is it? She asked me last night if love was enough. I wanted to believe it was. Now I’m beginning to wonder.”
“If you give up this easily, you don’t love her as much as you think you do,” she said, then started walking away.
“What are you going to do about…you and her?” he asked.
She turned to face him. “I’m going back to my family to do what I should’ve done a long time ago. I’m going to face the fact that you’ve never cared about me, forgive myself for loving you even though I shouldn’t have and be grateful for the people who do care about me. I don’t deserve Francesca’s friendship, but if she ever gets to the point where she can handle having both of us in her life…and if you do, too…you know where to find me.”
Was she really walking away? If so, maybe he and Francesca had a chance. Suddenly, he had more respect and admiration for Adriana than ever before. “Adriana?”
She stopped. “Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
Wearing a sad smile, she nodded. “Make it worth it to me and…be happy together.”
Jonah stood at Francesca’s door long after Adriana was gone. He wanted to knock, to tell her he did believe love was enough. They could make sure of it if they were equally committed. But he hesitated to push her too far, too fast. Now that Adriana had stepped aside, he felt they might have a shot, a true second chance, and he decided to give Francesca the time and space she needed to work through her own doubts.
In other words, he was going to have the faith he should’ve had in her from the very beginning.
* * *
Hunsacker was calling. Did he have to answer?
Butch stared at the investigator’s number displayed on the base of his cordless phone, which also provided the time. It was still early, only eight in the morning and, while he was usually at work by seven, the past twenty-four hours had been hell on him and everyone else in the family. With Elaine turning Paris in to rescue Dean, there had been and would continue to be so much tension in the house Butch didn’t see how they could go on living together. But he’d figure out what to do about that later, once he’d had a chance to rebound from the shock and the upset. He was just glad he’d taken Champ to a friend’s house yesterday. It helped to know his son had no clue what was going on and was probably playing happily at Joey’s. It also helped that Paris was home and sleeping next to him. Because he had Hunsacker to thank for getting her out of jail so quickly, he forced himself to take the phone out of the room so he wouldn’t wake her and hit the answer button.
“What’s up, Hugh?” He kept his voice low as he made his way down the hall to the kitchen.
“Sorry to bother you so early, Butch. I know you can’t be happy to hear from me. But thanks to the forensic anthropologist we’ve had working around the clock, we’ve been able to identify some of the remains found in Dead Mule Canyon.”
Butch breathed a sigh of relief as he put on some coffee. All his secrets had been laid bare. He had nothing more to hide, so he didn’t really care what they learned about those victims. He had his own problems to worry about, like who he was going to hire to represent Paris and how he’d pay a good attorney if they were still at odds with her folks. “What do you need from me?”
“I’d like to run the names past you to see if you’ve ever heard of these women. Maybe Dean associated with one or more of them at some point.”
