Cold Case Affair
gravel, heard him coming up the stairs. She wanted to sink into the floor, be swallowed by a hole.
    He stilled her hand, took the key from her and opened her front door. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, holding the door open. “It won’t happen again. Please, just get your things, Muirinn,” he said. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
    She clenched her jaw. “I’m not coming to your house, Jett.”
    “Then I’ll stay at your place,” he said, following her into the hallway. “But it’ll be easier the other way. I have my work at home.”
    She spun around to face him. “I never wanted to put you in this position, Jett. I didn’t— don’t —want your help.” Just as she hadn’t let him help her eleven years ago when she found out she was pregnant.
    He let out a wry laugh. “You never did let anyone help you, Muirinn. You always wanted to do everything on your own. Let me help you now. For the baby’s sake.”
    “I can’t ,” she whispered.
    “Look, I really am sorry about what just happened, and if I could find someone I trust to stay with you tonight, Muirinn, I would. And after tomorrow, if things still haven’t been sorted out, I have a good friend who will do me that favor.”
    A favor.
    Pain twisted.
    That was the last thing on this earth she wanted from Jett. “So why don’t you get him now?” she said icily.
    “He’s away until tomorrow.”
    She swallowed, humiliation filling her chest. She’d led him to this—it was as much her fault as his—and now she just wanted to be alone, in her old bedroom where she could sob her heart out. And he wasn’t going to let her do that.
    “Please, Jett,” she said, clenching her jaw, refusing to let him see her break down further. “Please get out of my house. Now.”
    Frustration flashed into his cobalt eyes. “Someone just tried to kill you, Muirinn. I can’t leave you here alone. As soon as possible I’ll get my buddy Hamilton Brock to come stay here with you. He’s an ex-Marine and does close protection work for a private company offshore. He knows what he’s doing.”
    She turned away from him, rested her forehead against the doorjamb, shoulders slumping with fatigue. She just couldn’t stay in Jett’s house with his wife away. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t helping either of them. God, this was a mess.
    “Think of your child for a change, Muirinn.”
    Her head whipped up. “For a change? ”
    “Yes. Someone other than yourself for a change.”
    “Damn you, Rutledge,” she whispered, eyes blurring with tears she could no longer force back. “Will you get off your high horse! I didn’t ask you to kiss me back there! What about your responsibilities—to your family, to your son? ”
    His body went rigid.
    She swore softly. “The best thing I ever did was leave you and this place.”
    “That’s in the past, this is—”
    “Oh, it might be in the past, Jett, but what just happened in that truck has everything to do with now.”
    His jaw flexed angrily. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Muirinn, please, just get your things. Bring the photographs and laptop. We’ll go through it all, and we can decide where to go from there, whether there is enough to bring in an outside agency like the FBI. You can shower and change at my place.” He hesitated. “Just for tonight. At least you’ll be safe.”
    Safe?
    That’s the last thing she was with Jett. Her own heart had made sure of that. He had made sure of that. She turned, stomped up the stairs, slamming doors behind her.
    So she was angry with him. Well, he was angry with himself. Jett slammed his fist against the wall.
    A door banged upstairs.
    He dragged both hands over his hair and cursed. Idiot! He should never should never have touched her. But it had just happened.
    He swore again.
    What else was he supposed to do now? They couldn’t go to the cops. And he didn’t know who else to trust, apart from Brock, who’d arrived in town only seven years ago and had no

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