me off when people die before they've accomplished what they set out to do," she added, pulling up a second rolling chair and thumping into the seat.
Beneath the note of frustration, Luther sensed a deep river of grief. He suffered the craziest impulse to pull her onto his lap and wrap his arms around her, giving her permission to let go of the pain she held in check.
"You're right," he said, suddenly determined to make things better for her. "If Lovitt killed your colleague then we need to prove it. Enough of this. Let's go to the Northern Neck and see what Forrester was up to. Any idea where he was staying while he was there?"
"No," she said, scooting closer.
He typed Forrester's name into a search engine and found a newspaper article reporting his death. Luther and Hannah skimmed it together.
"It says he was visiting from the D.C. area and staying at the Magnolia Inn in Sabena," Hannah observed.
"Upon investigation of the accident," Luther read out loud, "Sheriff James Blaylock deemed it an unfortunate incident. Forrester may have lost control of his vehicle, swerving off the road and into trees. His air bag failed to inflate fully." He glanced sidelong at Hannah's tense profile. She sat back and folded her arms across her chest.
"I want to know more about this Sheriff Blaylock," she said in a hard voice.
Luther entered his name in the search engine, not surprised to come up with dozens of hits. "We need to limit the search."
"Add Lovitt's name," Hannah suggested. "Who knows? Maybe we'll get lucky."
He followed her suggestion, expecting no results. Much to his surprise, there was a match—an article linking the names Lovitt and Blaylock together. "Check this out," he exclaimed as a wedding announcement popped onto the screen. " 'Sheriff James Blaylock marries Anna Lovitt'. It's two years old."
Hannah sat forward, her expression brightening. "Do you think she's related?"
"Here." He pointed to a paragraph near the end of the article. " 'The bride is the daughter of the late Marshall and Dotty Lovitt. Her older brother, Commander Edward Lovitt, United States Navy, gave the bride away.' Got you now, you son of a bitch!"
"No we don't," said Hannah, keeping him from giving her a victory hug. "All we have is circumstantial evidence. So Lovitt's brother-in-law is the sheriff of Sabena. What does that prove? Nothing."
"You're right," he conceded. "We'll go to Sabena first thing in the morning."
"Do you think we can find what we need in two days?" she asked dubiously.
"We don't have much choice, do we?" Luther cleared the screen and logged off. As he reached under the desk to depress the power button, his shoulder brushed Hannah's thigh. He managed to follow through and to straighten as if the contact hadn't affected him like a bolt of lightning.
Physical awareness clawed through him, sharp and all-consuming.
Working in close quarters for two nights straight had only increased his awareness of her. The way Hannah moved, her intelligence and insight, and the feminine scent that she gave off were slowly undermining his determination to keep her at a distance.
And now he was going to the hub of Lovitt's illegal operation with Hannah right beside him. They'd probably have to stay in the bed and breakfast where Forrester had stayed, if only to get a true picture of the DIA officer's last hours.
How was Luther going to do that without snatching the wig off Hannah's head? More than once, he'd fantasized about running his ringers through her soft, glorious hair, of removing her glasses and watching her eyes flare with awareness.
It was going to be a test of his resolve—that much was certain.
Hannah groaned into her pillow. Was it possible to have slept so little in the past seventy-two hours and still find sleep elusive?
She pushed herself into a sitting position, brushed the hair off her cheeks, and gazed at the now-familiar four walls of Westy's spare bedroom.
She could only guess what time it was—three in the
Beneath the note of frustration, Luther sensed a deep river of grief. He suffered the craziest impulse to pull her onto his lap and wrap his arms around her, giving her permission to let go of the pain she held in check.
"You're right," he said, suddenly determined to make things better for her. "If Lovitt killed your colleague then we need to prove it. Enough of this. Let's go to the Northern Neck and see what Forrester was up to. Any idea where he was staying while he was there?"
"No," she said, scooting closer.
He typed Forrester's name into a search engine and found a newspaper article reporting his death. Luther and Hannah skimmed it together.
"It says he was visiting from the D.C. area and staying at the Magnolia Inn in Sabena," Hannah observed.
"Upon investigation of the accident," Luther read out loud, "Sheriff James Blaylock deemed it an unfortunate incident. Forrester may have lost control of his vehicle, swerving off the road and into trees. His air bag failed to inflate fully." He glanced sidelong at Hannah's tense profile. She sat back and folded her arms across her chest.
"I want to know more about this Sheriff Blaylock," she said in a hard voice.
Luther entered his name in the search engine, not surprised to come up with dozens of hits. "We need to limit the search."
"Add Lovitt's name," Hannah suggested. "Who knows? Maybe we'll get lucky."
He followed her suggestion, expecting no results. Much to his surprise, there was a match—an article linking the names Lovitt and Blaylock together. "Check this out," he exclaimed as a wedding announcement popped onto the screen. " 'Sheriff James Blaylock marries Anna Lovitt'. It's two years old."
Hannah sat forward, her expression brightening. "Do you think she's related?"
"Here." He pointed to a paragraph near the end of the article. " 'The bride is the daughter of the late Marshall and Dotty Lovitt. Her older brother, Commander Edward Lovitt, United States Navy, gave the bride away.' Got you now, you son of a bitch!"
"No we don't," said Hannah, keeping him from giving her a victory hug. "All we have is circumstantial evidence. So Lovitt's brother-in-law is the sheriff of Sabena. What does that prove? Nothing."
"You're right," he conceded. "We'll go to Sabena first thing in the morning."
"Do you think we can find what we need in two days?" she asked dubiously.
"We don't have much choice, do we?" Luther cleared the screen and logged off. As he reached under the desk to depress the power button, his shoulder brushed Hannah's thigh. He managed to follow through and to straighten as if the contact hadn't affected him like a bolt of lightning.
Physical awareness clawed through him, sharp and all-consuming.
Working in close quarters for two nights straight had only increased his awareness of her. The way Hannah moved, her intelligence and insight, and the feminine scent that she gave off were slowly undermining his determination to keep her at a distance.
And now he was going to the hub of Lovitt's illegal operation with Hannah right beside him. They'd probably have to stay in the bed and breakfast where Forrester had stayed, if only to get a true picture of the DIA officer's last hours.
How was Luther going to do that without snatching the wig off Hannah's head? More than once, he'd fantasized about running his ringers through her soft, glorious hair, of removing her glasses and watching her eyes flare with awareness.
It was going to be a test of his resolve—that much was certain.
Hannah groaned into her pillow. Was it possible to have slept so little in the past seventy-two hours and still find sleep elusive?
She pushed herself into a sitting position, brushed the hair off her cheeks, and gazed at the now-familiar four walls of Westy's spare bedroom.
She could only guess what time it was—three in the
Similar Books
