Shepherd did. Eleven and a half minutes.
“The half counts,” Charlie said. “You can see yourselves out. The front door, this time.”
Ginny was the first one out the door, but Charlie’s voice called out, “I do hope you find her, Miss Kent.”
She paused at the threshold. Her eyes were bright, and when she blinked, her eyelashes sparkled. “Thank you, Mr. Cardello.”
“Yeah,” Shepherd groused, herding her down the stairs. “Thanks a lot.”
TWENTY-TWO
The ride to the 18-Mile Stretch was silent. Ginny didn’t cry, not really. She sat in the passenger seat and fiddled with her fingernails, her head bowed and her hair covering her face.
He ran through a couple of things to say in silence. Women crying were a weak spot—had been since he was kid, and his mom would cry whenever his dad would leave. But ‘Hey, buck up, kiddo’ and ‘Everything’s gonna be A-OK’ sounded lame even in his own dumb head.
At least Lex was not much of a crier, or else he’d have been compelled to launch a harebrained scheme to take over the world and crown her as emperor, something she thought she deserved and was qualified for.
“Ginny, I …” He sighed, ran his palms over his steering wheel. “I’m sorry the lead turned out to be a dead end.”
She sniffed so quietly he half believed he imagined it. “Me, too. Thank you for going with me.” Another quiet sniff. “He wouldn’t have spoken to me without the pizzas.”
Shepherd clicked his tongue. “He was a gross and hungry man, that’s for sure, but one who knew not to look a good bribe in the mouth.”
Ginny reached for his arm over the center console; he let go of the steering wheel to accommodate her, his elbow on the hard plastic between them as she hugged his bicep.
“I can’t thank you enough, Shepherd,” she whispered, nuzzling her cheek against his shirt. “For all of it. All of today. You’ve been with me every step of the way. I’m gonna clean your car so good.”
Shepherd chuckled, but inside, his stomach was churning. “Yeah, um.” He cleared his throat. “You do that.”
They pulled up into the Kent driveway, still crowded with official-looking vehicles, and Ginny gave a big, dramatic sighand let him go. The churning in his stomach only got worse with the loss of her. “Thank you for taking me home. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how things are going. I don’t know when I’ll be back to work, but I won’t let it be more than a few more days.”
Shepherd’s hand thunked against the arm rest. “Um. What?”
“Well, you can’t expect me to work while my mom is kidnapped. I mean, we can call it a sick day if you want, but—”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” He dug his fingers into his forehead. Behind his eyes was throbbing, down into his sinus cavity. Maybe he was allergic to Ginny. That would explain the so-called “heart-eyes” his pizza chefs said he made in her direction. They weren’t hearts coming out of his eyes, they were pollen spores. “Why are you saying goodbye?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s getting late. You haven’t had dinner yet. The restaurant is open tomorrow. You need to work. Why? Do you want to stay here?”
“Your father knows what happened today. What I did today. And he told me I had to keep you safe. You’re out of your damn mind if I’m not by your side the entire time he is around.”
Her glassy-eyed, red-nose expression softened into an ear-splitting grin.
“What are you smiling about?”
“You want to stay with me.” She poked him in the bicep that her tear-stained face had dried off with. “Youlikebeing with me.”
“This has been the worst day of my life, and I’m including the day that I walked in on my best friend and my wife in bed. OK? Now, just get out of the car, and hold my hand, and act like you love me, so I don’t go to jail for manslaughter.”
Ginny rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling as she undid her seatbelt and opened the door. “Just so you know,” she said, halfway out the door, “you’d be lucky to get manslaughter. You came inside, quiet, with the bat poised and ready to go. Any prosecutor worth his salt would push for murder one.”
Shepherd took the key out of the ignition and jangled them at her. “Get going, will ya? We’ve got a show to put on.”
The house thrummed with a strange, controlled chaos. Family members mingled with law enforcement, while a few women in scrub-like uniforms moved briskly through the halls, cleaning.
From a library off to Shepherd’s left, Mr. Kent caught his eye and gave a single nod. Shepherd returned it, feeling as though he’d passed a test. He knew he wasn’t free to leave yet, of course—not while a man with his own private library held the literal key to his freedom.
Who even had a library anymore, besides Beast fromBeauty and the Beast?
