COLLATERAL CASUALTIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series) by Kassandra Lamb Page B

bridges,” she replied tartly, taking the money from him. “Come on, mis niños , we go out.”
                Skip opted to be amused rather than annoyed by Maria’s fierce loyalty to Kate. He went in search of his wife.
                And couldn’t find her. After a thorough ground-to-attic search, he opened the back door. And there she was, sitting in the Adirondack chair at the end of the tree-shaded yard. They never used that chair, but she’d resisted getting rid of it. He’d sat in it once, and had a hell of a time getting out of it again, because of its tilted back.
                He walked down the yard. The sight of tear tracks on Kate’s face tugged at his heart. He squatted down beside her chair. “Why are you sitting way back here?”
                “It’s where I sat when I was grieving for Eddie,” she whispered.
                She might as well have stabbed him in the chest with a knife. “I’m so sorry,” he managed to get past the guilt and fear clogging his throat.
                Her eyes went wide. “I’m the one who screwed up. I should’ve told you sooner.”
                “No, you didn’t screw up. Rose made me realize I would’ve handled it exactly the same, if the shoe’d been on the other foot.” He tried to gather her up in his arms, but the weird slant of the chair made that impossible.
                He stood up, then pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry I stormed out, darlin’,” he said into her hair. He breathed in the floral scent of her shampoo.
                She shook her head against his chest. Her muffled voice said, “You had every right to be furious.”
                He held her slightly away from him so he could look into her eyes. “Sometimes life gets messy, and there is no clear-cut way to handle it.”
                Kate´s mouth twitched. It looked like she was trying to smile but couldn’t quite get the muscles coordinated. “Have I ever told you how much I admire your astuteness, Mr. Canfield?”
                “Yup, as a matter of fact, you have, darlin’. But it’s okay with me if you repeat yourself now an’ again.” He pulled her snug against him and rocked gently back and forth.
                When he felt her body relax, he bent his head down to whisper in her ear. “Maria took the kids to Mickey D’s for dinner.” He bent a little further, nudging aside the collar of her shirt to kiss the sweet spot where shoulder curved up into neck. She shivered and let out a soft gasp. “You up for a little make-up sex?”
                She leaned back in his arms. “Is that a rhetorical question?” This time her mouth muscles remembered how to smile.
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
                Friday at three-fifteen, Mac pulled a rented car, its license plates obscured with mud, up behind a black limousine parked on a side street in Bethesda, Maryland. Skip, having convinced Mac and Rose to let him be their back-up, was a block further back hunched down in his own truck, watching the action through binoculars.
                The limo driver had lowered his windows to enjoy the mild autumn day. He had his head tilted back, eyes closed, listening to a Spanish radio station.
                His eyes flew open when Mac touched the cold end of his Glock’s barrel against the man’s temple.
                “Move a muscle and your brain’s history.” Mac growled from his position crouched down beside the car.
                The man stared straight ahead. To his credit, he was neither shaking nor sweating.
                Lot more than just a driver , Mac thought. “What’s your name?”
                “Raul.” The voice was flat.
                “Okay, Raul. Nice and slow, put your hands on the steering wheel. No