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A flicker of movement through the narrow glass panels by the main entrance caught his eye when he straightened. Jaw clenched tight, he tossed Gina’s clothes on the back of the couch and strode over to open the door for the police officer who’d just stepped from his car. It appeared his morning was getting better and better.
“Mr. Daley?” the man inquired as he approached.
He moved outside, pulling the door almost all the way closed behind him. “That’s me.”
“You reported a vehicle roll-over last night?”
His tension eased as he nodded. “I did.”
“There was another accident not far from here, so we’re going to pull your vehicle out. I’ll need you to come with me to fill out a report and collect anything you’d like from the car before we haul it in.”
“Right now?” he asked with a frown.
“Yes. I’m sure you understand the necessity of clearing all the roads as soon as possible.”
His SUV wasn’t anywhere near the road, but he didn’t bother pointing that out. Maybe this was a good thing. It would give him a chance to calm down and think of the best way to approach Gina when he returned.
The officer glanced toward her charcoal gray Mazda. “Is this a second vehicle of yours that you can use to follow me?”
“No, but I have one in the garage. Give me a minute and I’ll be right out.”
Over at the coffee table, he took a moment to scribble a note for Gina in case he wasn’t back by the time she woke up. Then he located the socks she’d brought down last night, grabbed her computer so she couldn’t erase evidence while he was gone, and headed for the garage door.
Chapter 23
She was alone. She’d felt his absence from the moment of wakefulness, and one roll in the
large bed confirmed Dean was not in the bed or in the room. She didn’t hear any water running, but could faintly smell the invigorating Alpine Mountain Breeze body wash scent from the shower he must have taken.
Much as she was disappointed not to see his handsome face and sexy body first thing, she welcomed the opportunity to savor the feeling of waking up in the bed of the man she loved.
Slightly sore, yet completely relaxed, she indulged in a slow, languid stretch. The sensual slide of the sheets across her naked body brought back memories that sent a flush of heat from her head to her toes. And suddenly, despite the blush, she couldn’t wait to see him again.
She hurried through a shower of her own, all the while reliving bits and pieces of the evening before. Strangely enough, now that she was fully awake, it was their conversations that echoed in her mind. More than once she came back to Dean’s questions about Jackson, and if she could’ve seen or heard something without realizing it.
It got her mind churning as she crossed the room in a damp towel to don one of his T-shirts until she could gather her clothes from in front of the fireplace. She’d told him she mistook Jackson’s seemingly unconditional support of her goals as love, but the truth was, she’d never truly loved him either. The emotions that had existed in that relationship didn’t hold a candle to what she felt in her heart for Dean, the man she’d connected with on every level last night.
Believing her feelings for Jackson would deepen, then staying in the relationship through his subtle manipulations was the most humiliating part of all to get over. Especially now that she could see the night and day difference of what true love should look and feel like.
But back to Dean’s questions. Now that she had a moment to think about it without him sitting next to her as a distraction, Jackson had been uncharacteristically edgy and short-tempered the last six months they’d been together. He’d snapped at her more than once while working on his laptop at home—something he seemed to have been doing more and more.
The incident where she’d gotten even a hint of the violent nature she’d experienced outside her apartment was when he’d been sitting at the table working one night and she’d come up behind him, draped her arms over his shoulders, and kissed his neck. She’d glanced at the document on his screen and commented on the name of the charitable organization in the letterhead of a document he was working on.
His steel grip on her arms as he shoved her back had made her gasp. Later, he’d apologized and claimed she’d startled him, but now she wondered if that was one of those things she wasn’t supposed to have seen. It was a long shot, but she’d mention it to Dean.
She tried to recall the name of the organization. Something with ‘winning,’ or ‘racing’…maybe Racing to Home? No…that didn’t sound right.
She did remember the tagline had been about a non-profit for homeless children in New York City. She’d wondered why New York when Colorado had its fair share of those in need, but his unexpected, frightening reaction had totally wiped any other thoughts from her mind.
Dean’s suspicions had her considering everything in a new light. He’d said Jackson was in deeper than the computer stuff, and he’d received information obtained by a private investigator from reliable sources. He’d asked her to think about Jackson’s money, his business, and his contacts.
Was Jackson being investigated for something illegal?
Were these contacts the police?
Is that who Jackson had meant when he told her to keep her mouth shut to Dean or “anyone else that comes asking.”
If only she could remember the name on that letter.
