How could the woman not have seen how very much Rory had loved her son?
“Let me take you to lunch,” Chance offered. “Then we can stop by a floral shop and pick up flowers if you’d like.”
She turned to him, surprised that he would think of such a kind gesture. “I would love that. Thank you.”
His smile was so kind, so handsome. How had she been so lucky to have this man as the one to help her right this wrong?
“Besides your brother,” he said, “it’s been a long time since anyone was nice to you. You deserve someone to be nice to you.”
Her lips lifted in a smile of her own. “I’m so glad the Colby Agency sent you.”
His fingers curled around her hand. “Me too.”
He stood, pulled her up with him. “How about we go to that drugstore where you had your first job?”
“They have great milkshakes too.”
“Chocolate, right?”
“Always.”
Rory glanced one last time at Pete’s headstone. If she could do nothing else, she hoped she could make sure the person who did this to him was brought to justice.
The thought nudged her. “I’ve been thinking,” she said as they walked through the cemetery to where Chance had parked his car. “I figure whoever set fire to my house was someone like the guys who broke my window or used the paint guns. But what if it wasn’t?”
They paused next to the car. “You mean, what if it was the person who killed your husband?”
She nodded. “Maybe he was cool, going on with his life as long as I was in prison, but he could be getting nervous now.”
“I’ve considered that possibility,” Chance agreed. “Which is all the more reason not to let you out of my sight for an instant going forward.”
“Where will we stay?” They certainly couldn’t go back to her house.
“I still have that room. We could go there or another place if you prefer.”
“I’m good with whatever you think.”As long as I’m with you, she kept to herself.
She felt safe with Chance. She felt happy…in a tiny, unexpected way.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Limestone Correctional Facility
Nick Davis Road
Harvest, Alabama, 3:45 p.m.
Chance wasn’t surprised in the least that Alfred Mannington, the agency attorney assigned to Rory’s case, had come through quickly. Chance had made the call as they left the cemetery, and before two o’clock, they’d had approval for a visit to Rick Hill at the prison.
Chance had also taken Rory to a floral shop and then back to the cemetery. From there they had driven straight to the prison.
They’d been brought to a private visitation room. Rory looked nervous, but Chance felt she was holding up as well as could be expected under the circumstances. She had been through a lot.
The fire and subsequent destruction at her aunt’s home had been a painful blow. He wished he could have stopped the progress of the flames without the necessary water damage caused by the fire department. But there had been no choice. Added to that, the confirmation that Detective Fowler for some reason refused to even consider the other two cases as being connected to Rory’s was infuriating. Made for a bad day.
Chance would not stop until he found the connection or the person who had murdered Pete Harris.
The idea that the lowlife they were about to interview was possibly the man who had assaulted Rory twisted in his gut. On the long drive here, he had mentally prepared himself forthe necessity of sitting across a table from her attacker without reaching for this throat. Not exactly the sort of thing that helped get answers for their questions.
