hands.”
His narrowed eyes found mine. After another moment, he looked away and cursed under his breath. “Somehow I knew you’d bring this back up.”
I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms. “Well?”
Nate glanced around the shop. I didn’t bother—knew from experience that no one could hear us back here. Grace and I had freely gossiped in this corner for years. Still did, when we made a rare visit to our old stomping grounds.
His blue eyes flashed back to mine then, a fury burning just beneath the surface. “Maybe you’re not the only one with a vested interest in getting this person off the streets.”
“Keep talking.”
He turned his eyes back to the java before him. “I have a…relative…who works at Maxwell. Been there for years. They’re widowed, actually. And it was the murder of their spouse that convinced me to pick the career I did.”
A wave of guilt washed over me. Never in a million years would I have guessed that was his reason for staying involved. I’d pushed him for an answer, and had unintentionally dug into his soft underbelly. An intimate part of him I had no business asking him to share.
“Nate, I’m sorry. I didn’t kn—.”
“You asked for an honest answer, so I gave it to you.” He shrugged, tried to play it down. “It was a long time ago. But they’ve got two kids, Jessica. I can’t ask my cousin for help on this. And I’m not going to sit back and do nothing, either. Especially now that I know a homicidal maniac might be working along side them.”
How could I possibly say no to his proposal, knowing how much we both stood to lose? It was my turn to curse under my breath. I rose from the chair and slid my sunglasses back into place. “Then it looks like we have some work to do.”
Chapter 9
The doorbell rang just after four o’clock that afternoon. I steeled my resolve as I walked to answer it. Vowed to get this stupid plan of his moving forward, so we could get in, get out, and get both Grace and my lives back to normal.
I opened the door and found Nate on the front porch, eyes bright with an angelic smile on his face. He’d changed into street clothes: dark, well-worn jeans, a blue plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up just enough to expose those muscular forearms of his again, and a bright white t-shirt underneath.
As I stood there thinking the man would probably look good in just about anything, the four-legged object sitting next to him caught my attention. It, and the slobber dangling lazily from its mouth.
“Um, hi. Whattcha got there?”
He cast a confused look down at the squatty, rotund bulldog, then back up at me. “Wow, Jessica. I’m beginning to seriously doubt the quality of public education around here.”
My eyes narrowed. “I know what it is. Why is it here ?”
Nate threw me one of his most charming smiles as he lowered the black canvas bag he’d been shouldering to the ground. “This,” he said, and crouched down to rub under the pooch’s right ear, “is Brutus. My guard dog.”
I ducked a little and scanned the street behind him. “Why? Do you think you’re being followed?”
“Oh, heck no,” he said, standing back up. “I didn’t bring him along for me.”
“Then wha—?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything in due time. May we come in?”
I looked back down at Brutus, whose tongue had lolled out to retrieve the nearly-escaped strand of slobber and then disappeared again behind his protruding lower lip. “Sure,” I said, stepping aside. “Great. Come on in.”
“Not an animal lover?” he said with a smirk.
“I don’t not like them.” It wasn’t a lie. Truth was, I hadn’t always had the best of luck with animals. All the fish and small, furry critters I’d kept as a kid had usually died fairly quickly. Gave me one heck of complex.
Nate walked into the living room, his four-legged companion tromping along beside him. The beast kept his nose to the ground, taking in
His narrowed eyes found mine. After another moment, he looked away and cursed under his breath. “Somehow I knew you’d bring this back up.”
I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms. “Well?”
Nate glanced around the shop. I didn’t bother—knew from experience that no one could hear us back here. Grace and I had freely gossiped in this corner for years. Still did, when we made a rare visit to our old stomping grounds.
His blue eyes flashed back to mine then, a fury burning just beneath the surface. “Maybe you’re not the only one with a vested interest in getting this person off the streets.”
“Keep talking.”
He turned his eyes back to the java before him. “I have a…relative…who works at Maxwell. Been there for years. They’re widowed, actually. And it was the murder of their spouse that convinced me to pick the career I did.”
A wave of guilt washed over me. Never in a million years would I have guessed that was his reason for staying involved. I’d pushed him for an answer, and had unintentionally dug into his soft underbelly. An intimate part of him I had no business asking him to share.
“Nate, I’m sorry. I didn’t kn—.”
“You asked for an honest answer, so I gave it to you.” He shrugged, tried to play it down. “It was a long time ago. But they’ve got two kids, Jessica. I can’t ask my cousin for help on this. And I’m not going to sit back and do nothing, either. Especially now that I know a homicidal maniac might be working along side them.”
How could I possibly say no to his proposal, knowing how much we both stood to lose? It was my turn to curse under my breath. I rose from the chair and slid my sunglasses back into place. “Then it looks like we have some work to do.”
Chapter 9
The doorbell rang just after four o’clock that afternoon. I steeled my resolve as I walked to answer it. Vowed to get this stupid plan of his moving forward, so we could get in, get out, and get both Grace and my lives back to normal.
I opened the door and found Nate on the front porch, eyes bright with an angelic smile on his face. He’d changed into street clothes: dark, well-worn jeans, a blue plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up just enough to expose those muscular forearms of his again, and a bright white t-shirt underneath.
As I stood there thinking the man would probably look good in just about anything, the four-legged object sitting next to him caught my attention. It, and the slobber dangling lazily from its mouth.
“Um, hi. Whattcha got there?”
He cast a confused look down at the squatty, rotund bulldog, then back up at me. “Wow, Jessica. I’m beginning to seriously doubt the quality of public education around here.”
My eyes narrowed. “I know what it is. Why is it here ?”
Nate threw me one of his most charming smiles as he lowered the black canvas bag he’d been shouldering to the ground. “This,” he said, and crouched down to rub under the pooch’s right ear, “is Brutus. My guard dog.”
I ducked a little and scanned the street behind him. “Why? Do you think you’re being followed?”
“Oh, heck no,” he said, standing back up. “I didn’t bring him along for me.”
“Then wha—?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything in due time. May we come in?”
I looked back down at Brutus, whose tongue had lolled out to retrieve the nearly-escaped strand of slobber and then disappeared again behind his protruding lower lip. “Sure,” I said, stepping aside. “Great. Come on in.”
“Not an animal lover?” he said with a smirk.
“I don’t not like them.” It wasn’t a lie. Truth was, I hadn’t always had the best of luck with animals. All the fish and small, furry critters I’d kept as a kid had usually died fairly quickly. Gave me one heck of complex.
Nate walked into the living room, his four-legged companion tromping along beside him. The beast kept his nose to the ground, taking in
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