What was it with the guys in her life? Getting all emotional and gooey on her all of a sudden? Max with his protectiveness. Colin with his...well, everything. And now Daniel, too?
“Good cops know when their partners are moonlighting,” Daniel continued, looking straight ahead now. “I’m not asking any questions. You’d tell me if I needed to know. I’m also completely sure that you’re on the up-and-up. So just know, if you get in a spot and need help, you can call me. Day or night.”
“Okay.” She nodded. Looked at him. And then stared straight ahead, too, feeling a little less alone.
Not that she’d ever tell him so. Not in a million years. He’d probably ask for a new partner if she did.
* * *
COLIN WAS IN his room packing when his phone rang.
“Hey, that was quick,” he said, catching sight of himself in his wardrobe mirror, hardly recognizing the young-looking guy grinning back at him. Weren’t there usually more lines marring his forehead? He almost asked her what she’d had for dinner; he was so far gone he wanted to know everything about her.
“I’m still out. Picking up a salad.”
Now that she mentioned it, he heard some noise in the background. Like she was outside. There were any number of build-your-own-salad places about town, most particularly in the upscale tourist section of the beach.
“You got my message. I have to go back to Japan. And it might be a little longer this time.”
“Yes. I’m sorry to hear that.” She sounded lonely already.
“Think of me tonight, when you crawl into that great big bed...”
“I’m afraid I have no choice in the matter. It was already happening before you spent the past two nights in it. I severely doubt I’ll ever be in it without thinking of you now.”
He grinned some more. And then sobered. “I’ll text you as often as I can.”
“Good.”
“I have a favor to ask, Chantel.”
“Of course. You know I’m here for you. What do you need?” God, it felt great having a woman he could count on, having anyone he could count on to help ease the guilt of leaving his responsibilities behind every time he left town.
“I need you to look in on Julie,” he said. “With all that’s been happening—her worry about Patricia on her committees, and now Smyth going to the library event—I don’t want her holed up alone in the house for days. I asked her to come to Japan with me, but she adamantly refused.”
“Does Leslie know you’re leaving?”
“Her husband does.” He’d told Morrison some of what was going on. Not Smyth’s name. Or the exact nature of the harm that had come to Julie ten years before. Only that his sister had been in danger at one point. He’d asked the other man to be on alert in case Julie needed some real protection and told him to call their private security service, not the cops, if something materialized. He’d also asked him to keep an eye out for Chantel, to take care of her if she needed anything. “Julie knows she can call him if she needs anything. Leslie will also be getting a text from someone in my office if I’m going to be missing the next library committee meeting.”
It was scheduled for the following Thursday evening. They were going to be finalizing all the details for the big night.
“We aren’t going to have much time to practice our parts for the murder mystery, but if you’ve read the script yet, you’ll see that there’s not much.”
The script. Shit. He’d left his copy at the office. He’d taken it with him on Saturday when he’d gone into work because he’d left it in the car after the meeting. Completely unlike him. “My copy’s at the office.”
“Like I said, it’s not much. We can ad-lib most of it. And we’re still almost three weeks away. I’ll go over it with you when you get back.”
He liked the sound of that. “Over a pot of chocolate fondue?” he asked, wishing he didn’t have to leave that night.
“Of course. You owe me a body drawing...”
Picturing exactly how he’d do that, Colin turned away from the mirror. A man his age shouldn’t be looking that sappy.
“In the meantime, of course I’ll stay in touch with Julie. I would have, anyway. I like her.”
“You two are becoming friends.”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad.”
He kept her on the line for another five minutes—teasing her, getting himself too hot under the zipper in the process.
And when he finally rang off, he was actually starting to believe that life—his life—could be more than just monetarily successful.