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Chapter 11
Zoe reached across the table and brushed her fingers over Spence’s hand. “I know how awful that must have been for you.” She’d blamed herself for her father’s death for a very long time. Still did, if she was honest with herself.
He stared down at the empty box that had held his fajitas. Shoved it away so hard that it teetered on the edge of the table then fell to the floor, splattering guacamole on the tiles, the green and red a metaphor for death and messy emotions. “I knew she wasn’t a strong swimmer. But I figured if we stayed in the shallows, she’d be fine. She wasn’t. That rip tide and the seaweed made sure that by the time I got to her, it was too late.”
When he tried to slide his hand away from her, she tightened her grip on him. “I’m sorry.” She wanted to weep for his loss. For his pain. “But you can’t blame yourself. She chose to go into the water, even though she wasn’t a strong swimmer. That was her choice, not yours, Spence.”
“I shouldn’t have agreed to go swimming in the ocean with her. I trained in that ocean. I knew how treacherous it could be. How vicious those rip tides are. What good are my skills If I can’t save the people I love?”
“Spence, I…”
He shoved away from the table. “I’m going to install that lock. You have a tool kit?”
She studied him for a moment. He’d buried those memories and that pain so deep beneath the surface she couldn’t see any evidence of it. But like any unhealed wound, it festered beneath the surface, ready to reappear and bite him unexpectedly.
Finally she stood up. “Yeah, I have a toolbox. I’ll get it.”
She squatted in front of the pantry and pulled out a red metal box from the floor in the back of the space. Turned and handed it to him.
Spence set it on the table and flipped open the hasp. Studied the contents for a long moment. “Looks like you could repair or build pretty much anything with these tools.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I like to be prepared.”
“Who put this together for you?” he asked.
Zoe twined her fingers together. “My mother bought me all the basics,” she said, her voice soft with memories. Pain. “She was the handywoman in our family. My father tried, but my mother had a way with tools. She knew how to fix everything. When Mel finished college and got her first apartment, my mother gave her a toolbox and taught her how to use everything in it. She did the same for me when I graduated.” She slid one finger down the red metal box. “It’s been part of every place I’ve lived.”
“Looks like she got the best tools she could buy,” he said as he rooted around in the metal box. He drew out a couple of screwdrivers and a few wrenches. “Go ahead and relax in the living room. This shouldn’t take too long.”
“Sit around while you’re working?” She scoffed. “Not happening, Spence.”
He turned to look at her, and after a moment, he nodded. “Then come help me.”
Forty minutes later, the new lock was installed and programmed with a six-digit code. After he’d entered it, Spence said, “No one else gets this code. No one. And after I leave, I want you to program in a new one.”
She frowned at him. “Why would I do that? I trust you, Spence. I don’t think I have to worry about a new code when your job is finished.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Smart thing to do.”
“Yeah, if I thought you were gonna come back and break in. But why would you do that? You’d be welcome anytime.”
He held her gaze for a heartbeat too long. “Fine,” he said. “Leave it. I doubt I’ll ever be in Seattle again anyway.”
It was a not-so-subtle reminder that she’d probably never see him again after this job ended. The realization made her heart ache. “I hope you are,” she said before she could stop herself.
He shrugged. “Possible I might have another job here. Nico’s got more than he can handle in Seattle. We’ll eventually have to put another agent here.”
The thought warmed her. “You, maybe?”
He was shaking his head before she’d even finished speaking. “Nope. Not me. Mel would probably hire someone new to work with Nico. She’s going to have to hire more people pretty soon, anyway. Word’s getting out about Blackhawk Security, and business is booming.”
He patted the pocket of his pants. “Speaking of Mel, I need to call her. See what she’s found in her research on Davies.”
“Go ahead,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I’ll check the mail I got today.”
He nodded and disappeared into his bedroom. After a few minutes, she heard him speaking. He must have gotten through to her sister.
She wandered over to the table beside the front door and picked up the stack of mail. She hadn’t looked at it since the day before yesterday. The day before her carefully constructed life had crashed down around her.
