Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 01 - Headaches Can Be Murder
on the coffee table. Caddy lay stretched out next to him, her head resting on his lap. He rubbed her ears absently, thinking about the last twenty-four hours.
    He was tempted to knock on Jo’s door. He told himself it was to make sure she was okay, but he knew he was kidding himself. Holding her in his arms again was what he really wanted to do. To comfort her. To feel the length of her against him.
    At one point, he had even padded over to her room in his stocking feet, and lifted a hand to rap on her door. But his hand hung in the air. In the end, he walked back to the couch. He rubbed his palm down his face, hearing the rasp of the stubble on his cheeks and chin. Caddy wiggled, breaking into his thoughts.
    “Poor old girl. Hey, you must be hungry by now. C’mon. Let’s go check out that overpriced bag of dog kibble we picked up at the Gasmart.” John walked to the kitchen, the golden retriever following on his heels. Flipping on the light switch, he squinted in the harsh fluorescent glow. He rooted around the cabinets until he located a casserole dish for her food and another for water. Setting the dishes on the floor, he watched Caddy pick at the food.
    “Not too hungry, huh? Got a lot on your mind? Me too.” He picked up a chunk of the food and held it out to her. She gingerly licked it from his palm. He picked up another piece and offered it to her once more. “What do you think I should do about her?” John indicated Jo’s bedroom with his thumb.
    Caddy evidently decided she was hungry after all and buried her muzzle in the food bowl, crunching loudly. John chuckled softly. “You’re a big help. I come to you for advice and you ignore me.” He sighed and walked back to the living room.
    John turned at a sound. The room was dark, except for the kitchen light in the next room and the faint glow of the security light outside the condo. Jo stood in the doorway of her room, wearing a long t-shirt. She said nothing, just stood there, studying him. The outline of her legs was clearly visible. His mouth went dry and lust warred with concern.
    He swallowed. “Jo, are you doing okay? You should, um, get some sleep. It’s been a long, rough day for you.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about Sid.”
    Her voice sounded like gravel. “He helped me out when my dad died. Sometimes, I can’t make sense of things. You know?” Her voice broke.
    He took a cautious step towards her, afraid of scaring her away. “Yes. I do know. This was a savage thing. A wasteful thing.” He took another step.
    She walked the last few feet between them and threw herself in his arms. She began to sob. At first, he stood still, worried that no matter what he did, it would be the wrong thing. They had known each other for such a short amount of time, but he already knew her pride, her reserve. John respected that about her. Still, he longed to bring her comfort. He was startled to realize that he hadn’t ever felt that way before. About anyone. I’ve known her for less than twenty-four hours.
    He wrapped his arms tight around her slim body, his chin resting on the top of her head. She fit perfectly. He closed his eyes and felt her shoulders shake, felt the dampness of her tears soaking into his shirt. Closing his eyes, he whispered, “Shh. It’ll be all right. We’ll figure this out.” He stroked her hair, loving the way the curls wrapped around his fingers.
    Her shuddering slowly subsided, and he felt her relax into him. They stood together for several minutes, not moving. He was aware of her warm softness against his chest. His heart pounded a rapid staccato. Let me do the right thing here.
    John gently pushed her away from him. “I think maybe we’d better get some sleep. Tomorrow—I mean today—is going to be a crazy day.” He put a finger under her chin and lifted her head to look into her eyes. “Are you going to be all right?”
    She stared into his eyes for a moment and then nodded. “Thanks. I’m not usually

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