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“I should go,” he says. He won’t meet her eye.
“No, Noah, stay,” she protests, but he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, I’m just worn out.”
Roo gives him a hug and a manly clap on the back, and Cara walks him to the door. He pulls it open, picking up his jacket, then turns back.
“Cara, forget what I said—I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” he mutters. He pats down his pockets, pulling out the usual pack of cigarettes. He puts one in his mouth.
“Deaks, I’ll give you a lift, please,” Cara pleads. It’s pouring down with rain, puddles forming in the road. She knows he’ll get soaked in seconds, but he shakes his head again, lighting the cigarette.
“I’ll be fine. I need the walk.”
“At least take a raincoat.”
She holds out one of Roo’s and he takes it, putting it on, then striding down their road, head down, pulling the hood up against the rain. She remembers the conversation with Libby in the bar and wonders exactly what is going on between her and Noah. How exactly he feels about her.
She feels Roo put his arms around her shoulders, and she leans back into his chest.
“What was that about?” Roo asks.
Cara turns in his arms and reaches up to kiss him. “Just the investigation. Wearing us all out.” She rests her face against his sweater as he closes the door. “It was good to see you at work today,” she says, closing her eyes briefly.
“I always worry about disturbing you.”
“No, it was nice to be reminded of the good things in life.”
Her husband pulls her closer for a moment, and she feels him kiss the top of her head. Then she looks up at him.
“Bedtime ?” she asks.
He smiles. She knows he’s in no doubt as to what she’s proposing.
“Bedtime,” he agrees.
CHAPTER
30
GRIFFIN ARRIVES HOME. With a loud bang of the door, he dumps his bag on the table, then takes two pills out of a packet and throws them in his mouth.
Jess is sitting on the sofa, her feet tucked under her. She’s had a boring day. Slept, got showered, dressed. Ate lunch. She hasn’t dared leave, knowing people are out there looking for her.
“What happened?” she asks.
He looks up quickly, then frowns. “Nothing,” he says. “Nothing at all.”
“Something must have …”
“Nothing! Okay?” She jumps at his shout, and he sees her reaction. His jaw tightens. Then, more quietly, he says: “Just a lot of routine police stuff, Jess. No leads. We’re no closer to finding this guy.”
Then, without another comment, he digs in his rucksack again and pulls out a mobile phone.
“I got you this,” he says, and throws it across the table to her.
She picks it up and looks at it quizzically.
“Burner phone,” he says. “Untraceable. Thought you might want to call your daughter?”
