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“I’m just teasing.” He killed the engine with the turn of his wrist and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I’m going to walk you to the door and do a perimeter check.”
“That would go a long way toward helping me sleep tonight—even though I hate to admit it.” She shifted to remove her own seatbelt, her bare legs rubbing against the fabric seat. She hadn’t bothered to change at the gallery, eager to get out of the crowded space.
“Hey, what I said yesterday still stands. You get scared, feel like something’s off, you call, okay?” His gaze was locked on her, his face a contrast of sharp lines and soft, searching eyes.
An unexpected wall of grief slammed into her, choking off her words. She sat still for a moment, riding out the pain. The sweeping loss of her parents and brother never got easier, and the detective’s concern for her was a reminder of how utterly alone she was. Except for her best friend Ted who had known her since grade school, she’d purposely closed off her connections. The fewer people she cared for, the less she’d eventually have to say goodbye to. Maybe it was a morbid way to live her life, but the impact of having all three of her family members ripped away from her had destroyed a piece of her along with them.
“What is it?” The low roll of his voice made goosebumps pucker over her bare arms. A rational woman might be concerned about the eerie darkness pressing against the glass, how many shadows lurked around the edges of the house, and the fastest route inside. That woman wasn’t her. She was simply staring at Gus, soaking in the sight and scent of the man captivating her attention. Attractive as he may be, she didn’t like to tell her story. Heartache wasn’t the only feeling it dredged up, but bitter regrets and survivor’s guilt that threatened to shatter her spirit. “Old pains.”
“The look in your eyes suggests otherwise.” He tilted his head slightly, just enough for the interior light to glaze his neck. The angle revealed a raised, jagged scar along his neck that disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt.
“I guess some types of pain never go away.” Her voice was thick, emotion too close to the surface. They sat there for a moment, assessing each other over the small console that separated them. Without thinking, she lifted her hand. “This must’ve have hurt terribly.” She outlined one side of the scar. He stiffened instantly, and heat scurried up her cheeks. She had no business getting in the detective’s personal space. “On the job?” she asked to break up some of the buzzing silence that hung in the air.
He waited for a beat before covering her hand with his own. “I wish it was.” She was sure he was going to politely lower her hand, but instead, the warmth of his large palm radiated over the top of her skin. The pulse at the base of his thumb bounded quickly against her hand, her own heart rate accelerating in response. The simple touch was complicating her insides, a flutter of anticipation tickling her stomach.
Then he dropped his hand, breaking the connection, and flung open the driver’s side door. “I’ll come around.” If it weren’t for his low, gravelly tone, the connection that just passed between them would seem like a figment of her imagination.
He prowled around the car, looking to the left and right as he took stock of their surroundings. A shiver of fear passed through her, a feeling she despised having at the place she called home. When Gus opened her door, she was ready to slide to the ground. The moment her heels hit the pavement, he put a steadying hand around her shoulder and led her to the front door. She turned her key in the lock as he hovered behind her. In the distance, sirens wailed into the night, and her muscles tensed. Maybe it was a silly visceral reaction, but the day before was still fresh in her mind.
“Out of precaution, stay right at my back. When we get inside, I’ll shut the door and clear the house.” Gus walked inside, shut the door, and secured the deadbolt. She stood against the inner wall as instructed while he checked every nook and closet downstairs. “I’m going to do a walk-through of the second floor, then around the property before I leave, okay?” His tone was once again professional, and he didn’t wait for her reply before leaving her in the foyer to check the space.
The little hairs on the back of her neck rose as the sirens grew louder. There was so much distance between her street and the main road, they rarely heard traffic sounds or first responders. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to escape the chill that frosted over her. Desperate for something to do, she paced into the kitchen. A red light was blinking on her answering machine. Yes, she still had a landline, but it was rare for anyone to call it except Ted. When she hit the button to play the recordings, she wasn’t surprised to hear his cheery voice on the other end, and she immediately relaxed.
“Hey doll face, it’s three o’clock in the afternoon, and I just wanted to wish you best of luck at your showing tonight. Sorry I have to miss it, but I’m in final exam hell. Next week, wine and Damacio’s delivery at my place? Let me know.”
“Sounds a bit old to be taking college exams.”
She whirled around to see Gus standing just inside the kitchen. For such a big man, his movements were silent.
“Not taking. Grading. Ted teaches Renaissance history at Harvard.”
“Impressive. Boyfriend?” His voice was flat, void of emotion.
A protest was on the tip of her tongue. That she never would’ve—what? Touched his neck if she were attached to someone? Nothing inappropriate had transpired between them, and yet the connection she had with Gus in the car was more intimate than some of the physical flings she’d had over the years. Was it her imagination, or did she see a flash of jealousy in his eyes?
“Childhood friend. We try to make a point to catch up once a month, but our schedules have been clashing lately.” Her heart dipped when he simply nodded and took a step back, putting physical distance between them.
“Inside’s clear. I’ll scout the perimeter before I leave. Lock up behind me.” The hard lines of his face had returned, all business.
She straightened her shoulders, feeling like a complete idiot. He was a detective, compelled to protect others. She was nothing more than a job to him. “All right. Thank you for taking me to the showing, and home, on your time off.”
He ignored her statement of gratitude. “Two troopers will be coming by in fifteen minutes or so with your car, so don’t be alarmed. They’ll drop it off, deliver your keys, and go.”
How had she forgotten leaving her car at the state police barracks earlier in the day? She must be more exhausted than she thought. The radio at his hip crackled to life, filling the space between them with static.
“Calling badge thirty-four. We have an unattended death on Twelve Pine Path in Charlton. Suspected homicide.”
Her breath caught, and she looked up at Gus’s face, tense in concentration. That was her next-door neighbor. Please let them be wrong. The mere thought of the elderly woman being murdered turned her stomach, bile rising up in her throat. What were the chances that it somehow involved her discovery from the day before?
“That’s my neighbor Dorothy’s house.” She pressed trembling hands to her belly, tendrils of anxiety unfurling inside her. “Do you need to go?”
“Yes. Stay safe.” He briskly strode out of the room, and she trailed behind him.
“You too,” she whispered as he stepped out onto the front porch.
He nodded. “Deadbolt.”
She shut the door and twisted the lock shut. She should be annoyed by how bossy he was. He was a man used to being in control, of giving orders. Instead, it just made her feel cared for. She needed to get her head checked. Releasing a long breath, she went through the house, checking every lock and window. Someone had buried a child in the woods, and now her neighbor had possibly been murdered. Ice-cold dread slid through her as she jogged up the stairs to the main bedroom and closed herself inside.
