“You were there that night.”
Her tone wasn’t accusatory but matter-of-fact. She knew the truth and dared him to refute it.
“I was.”
Kenna huffed and looked away, eyes snapping back to him. “All this time and you didn’t say anything.”
For all her fury, she kept her voice low.
They’d attracted a great deal of attention at the party and getting caught discussing a crime would have only fast-tracked their ascension in the ranks of Ponderosa infamy.
“I decided it was best not to tell you.”
“Why would you even consider keeping something like this from me?”
“Because I knew you’d react like this.” His voice rose to its usual volume, which equated to shouting amid their hushed dialogue.
“Like this how? Like an appropriate way to respond? This is insane.” Her eyes shut and when they opened they focused on the sky, the treetops. Everywhere but him. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but in the event of amurder, too many coincidences usually equals guilt. Now I know why Reynolds is all over your case.”
“You’re believing Reynolds’ theories now?”
“I’ve never known what to believe with you, Dayton. I’ve listened to women divulge terrible things about you and yet I’ve wound up in your arms. You need to start telling me the truth because …”
She trailed off, swallowing thickly as she leaned against a tree trunk. He drew his body to hers. Tangling a hand in her hair, he forced her to meet his gaze.
“Say it.”
“I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you and most days I hate myself for it but I can’t get rid of it. I can’t change it.”
He had longed to hear Kenna say something to that effect though he hadn’t expected it to come in the woods under the veil of night. Joy sobered him and he dropped kisses on her cheeks, her lips. “I was beginning to wonder if I meant anything to you.”
She pushed him lightly to break the kisses.
“No more lies. No more secrets.”
“Darling, since you came back into my life I’ve acted only in the interest of protecting what we have.”
Taking her into his arms, he cradled her head against his chest and found himself struck by the ugly honesty of his own words.
28
FLOORBOARDS
The small, sterile exam room was a five-star accommodation compared to the jail cell he somehow continued to narrowly avoid.
Dayton would just as soon end his own life than spend the rest of his days on the inside, at which point he may as well kiss his precious research project goodbye. Files upon files sitting on his computer, forgotten.
Nine years in the making and nothing to show.
A sharp pain shot through his head, as if someone had taken a chisel to his skull, and he winced in response. He’d prepared to assure the doctor that he was ready to start fresh and kick his old habits yet there he was nursing a hangover.
Dr. Stein entered the room, looking less than amused as he waved around a manila folder. “Bad news.”
He plopped onto a rolling stool and its cushion exhaled. Dayton consulted the ceiling before dealing with the balding man who sat before him.
“Just how bad?”
“High blood pressure. You’re a healthy person, considering everything you’re up against. I’d like your consent for a tox screening.”