No Unturned Stone (The True Lies of Rembrandt Stone 2)

This time her smile is genuine, and in it I see fragments of our past.

So I did mean something to her, once upon a time.

And then the other part of her sentence pings inside me.

Danny’s memorial birthday party.

No…

But Eve doesn’t look quite so haunted, quite so undone, so maybe I did fix something.

“Eve, Babe. What are you doing here?”

She turns to the voice, one that I know so well, and smiles.

It’s a sucker punch right to my sternum, because not only do I know that voice, but I also know the smile Eve flashes.

That smile is love. Acceptance. Knowing and being known.

That’s the smile of intimacy. And she’s giving it to Andrew Burke.

The screaming is back in my head as Burke walks over to the woman I love and kisses her, like it’s as natural as breathing.

I, however, can’t breathe, as I stare at Burke. He’s wearing a uniform, as if he’s back on patrol, but there’s something easier about him.

As if he’s not quite so tightly wound.

He lets her go. “I’m just off shift. You ready?”

She nods. “Daphne is in the car. We just got back from the library. She has a slew of books she thinks she’s going to read in a week.” She laughs and then glances at me. “Thirteen year olds—she’s exactly the right age to believe in Prince Charming and happily ever after.”

Burke laughs, and takes her hand. Then he turns to me.

His smile vanishes and a crisp air blows between us. “Boss,” he says, as if saying hello. Or goodbye. Or stay out of my way. I’m not exactly sure because my radar has short circuited.

The entire right side of Burke’s face is distorted—a rumpled, shiny, ages old burn scar. It runs down the side of his face, into his neck and disappears under his uniform.

I’m a good liar, yes, but not so good that I can tear my gaze away quickly. I linger a moment, then find my footing and meet his eyes.

A chill slices through me because deep inside his gaze I catch a glimpse of something I’ve never before seen in Burke.

Hate.

I swallow, and nod. “Officer Burke,” I say in quiet, pained dismissal.

He takes Eve’s hand and they walk to the door.

I take hold of the frame of my door.

An officer walks by me, holding a stack of pizza boxes.

I could retch. Instead, I go to my desk, find my keys, grab my suit coat—apparently, I’m back to that—and head out to the parking lot.

After everything I’ve been through, I don’t know why I want to fall to my knees and weep at the sight of my Porsche. Maybe because she’s still intact, the one thing in my world that hasn’t changed. In fact, she’s clean and beautiful under the warm June air. I get in and pull out, cranking the radio to drown out the cacophony of voices inside.

Eve is married to Burke.

Burke’s been seriously injured.