Evidence of Trust (Colorado Trust 1)

Sheer willpower carried him away from the bed and back to the table. It did nothing to help him focus on the investigation, and after a half-hour, he buried his head in his arms in frustration.

* * *

An unfamiliar chime jerked him awake to a room barely lit enough to see across. It took a moment to remember Aaron had taken both their phones and given him a different cell to avoid any possibility of the poacher-turned-stalker tracking their GPS signals. With a quick glance to make sure Brittany was still in bed, he unburied the loaner phone from the paperwork in front of him. It was eight-fifteen, and the chime had been for an incoming text message.

Partial fingerprint from the blade in Britt’s tire doesn’t match Kelly Stevens or anyone else in system. Store security video did not cover parking lot. Note and envelope clean. Inspector confirmed fire was arson. Found clear evidence of accelerant behind barn. Stevens has alibi. Will touch base in the A.M. Get some rest.

He read it twice, then lightly tossed the phone aside with a muttered curse. It was exactly what he’d expected, but that didn’t help his aggravation that they were still spinning their wheels. He sat back in the chair and scrubbed his hands over his face to clear away sleep.

“What’s wrong?”

He lowered his arms to his lap to see Brittany pushing aside the comforter as she got out of bed.

“No fingerprint matches, and there was nothing on the video.”

She slipped on a zip-up sweatshirt on the way to the table, leaving him equally relieved and disappointed. He didn’t protest when she reached for the phone. After reading the text, she set it back down and sunk into the chair opposite him.

Joel reached behind him to flip on the light switch, watching as she blinked at the sudden illumination. Both pupils seemed to react equally. Good. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry.”

So was he, but no use thinking about that. “No nausea? Dizziness? Blurred vision?”

The rapid-fire questions made her smile. “No, Dr. Morgan. I’m fine.”

“And the shoulder?”

She slowly rotated it in a circle, but only a slight grimace marred her brow. “Not as bad as I thought it’d be.”

“Good.” He pushed back his chair to stand. “You okay with hash browns and eggs for dinner?”

“If you’re cooking I am.”

“It’s my specialty,” he joked on his way to the kitchen area.

She joined him and pitched in to help right away. He wanted to tell her to go rest, but knew she’d argue. By unspoken agreement, they kept the conversation neutral all the way through dinner. Favorite movies, television shows, books; anything except the mess going on around them right now.

Knowing he was going to have to bring it up soon, his tension built as she washed the dishes and he dried. Despite their easy conversation earlier, silence fell between them.

Though he’d resisted the idea a week ago, he now knew she was that someone he wanted to come home to. Make dinners with, clean up with, and go to bed with her in his arms every night. They just had to get through the next couple days, then see where the ones after that took them.

As he set the plates back in the cupboard, she pulled the pot off the stove that she’d heated water in

to make hot chocolate. “Want some?”

“Sure.” He hung the damp towel to air dry and watched her scoop powdered chocolate from a tin into two large mugs. When he found his gaze straying toward the bed instead of the table, he decided to get down to business. “We really should take some time to go over that list.”

The hand stirring the liquid in front of her stilled. Her glance toward the table told him she knew exactly what list he meant, even though he had yet to show her the one he’d started.

She slid one mug toward him. Picking up the other, she moved toward the table.

Joel took the instant coffee he’d found in the cupboard and dumped a heaping tablespoon into his cup. At the table, he located the list and plopped it down in front of her. While she read the names, mug cradled between both hands as if to warm them as she sipped, he sat and stirred his own mix.

Her face paled as she scanned her eyes down over each name. “I can’t believe any of these people would…”

He saw her throat muscles work before she lifted those anguished green eyes.

“Casey? Mark? Gina? All of the people on this list I consider to be friends. Most of them came to the hospital to see me. All of them in fact.” She looked down as if to verify that statement, then looked back up. “That’s how you started this without me, isn’t it?”