Page 23 of Killer Heat


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She heard the caution in his tone but ignored it. “That’s definitely not the reaction you got the last time you were alone with her,” she said, then poured coffee into her travel mug.

He didn’t try to justify his actions. Neither did he point out that he’d tried, numerous times, to apologize. He accepted the barb without complaint and turned back to the window. But Francesca knew she shouldn’t keep letting her anger get the best of her. She couldn’t berate him every time something struck a nerve. It wasn’t as if he had to be here, had to put up with her insults. He was trying to stop a killer.

Let bygones be bygones. God, if only she could.

Closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath. “Sorry, I won’t mention it again.” She added a dash of cream to her coffee before putting on the lid. “Let’s go.”

He glanced at her breakfast. “You’re not going to eat?”

She eyed the eggs and toast he’d made for her and tried to recover her earlier enthusiasm, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to force it down. “I’m not hungry.”

She’d just told him she was starving, but he didn’t call her on it. Frowning, he retrieved her plate and rinsed the food into the garbage disposal before getting out his keys. “You can ride with me if you want.”

But then they’d be stuck going everywhere together until he drove her home. And her home was two hours away from where he was currently working, so that didn’t make sense. Being professional allies was one thing; spending every minute together was another. He brought what she most wanted to forget to the forefront, made it clear that she’d never loved anyone as much as she’d loved him. “No, thanks. I’ll take my own car.”

With a nod that suggested he was as relieved as she was, he gave her directions and left.

* * *

Jonah tried to reach Finch several times, but the investigator wasn’t picking up. He probably had his hands full. No telling what he was dealing with at the crime scene. The details Jonah had already heard were pretty damn gruesome.

But it would’ve been nice to have something besides Francesca to concentrate on. He definitely didn’t want to spend the whole drive thinking about the pictures he’d seen in her house or wondering about that politician fellow she’d been with. Nor did he want to keep reliving that moment when she first woke up and took his hand. That’d brought all the longing he’d felt for her right to the surface. He’d been just about to cup her cheek, to let himself touch her as he’d wanted to touch her all these years, when she’d suddenly realized what she was doing and withdrew.

Maybe she’d assumed he was her Washington, D.C., boyfriend. He’d been foolish to think her receptiveness to him had changed over the course of one nap. He hadn’t believed it, not really. His reaction had been instinctive. Had he taken a second to consider it, he would’ve known better than to respond even if she did reach out to him. He’d never expected to avoid the consequences of what he’d done, didn’t believe he deserved more than he’d earned. He had only himself to blame for losing Francesca. He just wished he could stop wanting her.

He’d thought he had. If someone had asked him yesterday whether seeing her again would affect him like this, he would’ve denied it. But every time he looked at her he felt the same pull that’d scared him a decade ago.

His phone rang. Figuring it was most likely Finch, he checked caller ID on his Bluetooth.

But it was his mother.

He was close enough to Skull Valley that he considered ducking the call. His mother wasn’t really the type of diversion he’d been hoping for. But she’d only call back. So he decided to get it over with. “Hey, Mom.”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Driving.”

“That doesn’t tell me much.”

“Still in Arizona, working that series of murders. Something wrong?”

“I got a call from Lori this morning.”

Oh, shit. Now she was contacting his mother? “You didn’t tell her I was in Arizona, did you?”

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s none of her business, for one.”

“She’s upset, Jonah. She said she’s been trying to get in touch with you but you won’t respond.”

Considering the personal information he kept hidden for Lori’s sake, it took nerve for her to involve his mother. But she’d always had a lot of nerve.

Tempted to tell Rita everything, he wondered how she’d respond if he blurted out that Lori’s roommate wasn’t just a roommate. That Lori had been gay since before she’d married him.

But he didn’t do it. Why bother? Lori didn’t mean anything to him anymore, not even enough for revenge. It was simpler to pretend their problems had been far more mundane. “I’ve been busy,” he said instead.

“Too busy to return her call?”

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