She tried to imagine Holt growing up in that. It explained the stubbornness, the born leader type. “Sounds like a tough guy.”
“Others had it much worse.” He swept the hair back off her face. “You did.”
“It’s not a contest.” And if it was, she didn’t really want to win it.
“But it’s a shot of perspective.” He shrugged. “He made it clear he loved the military more than us. That we came second.”
“You’re not him.” For some reason she needed to say that.
“I’d rather talk about you.” His hand snaked down her back, then went lower.
“For the record, what you’re doing there with your fingers is not really talking.” When his hand cupped her butt she almost jumped. “But you should keep doing it.”
“Does that mean I can stay in here tonight?”
She was prepared to offer him much more than that, but she knew he was a loner. He didn’t have serious female relationships. So now was not the time. “For as long as you’re in town, you should plan to be right here.”
“Deal.”
Chapter Thirteen
The news hit the local paper the next morning. The facts were thin, but the story linked Grant’s death to that of a brother and sister in a town a few hours away. A separate story on another page talked about a New Foundations member gone missing and believed drowned in a nearby lake. There wasn’t a photo or any information, but Holt tagged the story, sure this explained the missing dead attacker outside the Noonans’ home.
The paper failed to mention Kelly Noonan was actually alive, which was a good thing, since Connor made sure everyone thought she was dead. She’d been relocated and would soon be given a new identity. Her time in New Foundations would fade into memory, or so everyone at Corcoran hoped. Her time at the camp would only become general knowledge if she chose it, but she was in no condition to make any decision. Cam described her grief as profound.
Holt couldn’t imagine what he’d do if something happened to his sister. Rip down buildings with his bare hands. Lose it completely. He would not accept being shipped off and handled, but then he’d be the type to seek revenge. The nasty type.
The people behind the story ached in very real ways, but the fact that a story existed wreaked havoc with the assignment. This was the kind of story sure to whip people into a frenzy. Get them panicked and create vigilantes. Especially the reference to Lindsey.
The story suggested she’d been questioned. The headline didn’t blare final thoughts about her guilt, but there were enough dots to make a connection. She knew all three people. One died on her property and she discovered the other two. Pieces of her past, when pulled apart, appeared murky.
The story bore the faint touch of someone trying to smear her name. Careful and cautious, but the intended consequences weren’t hard to guess.
Holt slowly lowered the newspaper to the kitchen table with shaking hands. He wanted to shred the thing. Hide the evidence and make sure Lindsey never saw it. She didn’t need the hassle. Not on top of all she’d seen the past few days.
But reality stole that choice from him. She lived in this town. She served coffee to the residents. She chatted with them, lived among them. The gossip would ping from house to house until going anywhere would become difficult for her. She’d be “that” woman. The one people assumed did something wrong even if they couldn’t pinpoint a logical reason why.
Holt wiped a hand through his hair. He tried to think of the right thing to say to encompass his fury and frustration, but nothing came to him.
The coffee cup thudded against the table as Shane put it down and leaned in. “I told you it was bad.”
He had texted that he had news. He forgot to mention that this bordered on the apocalyptic type. “You undersold it.”
“I figured reading it would be bad enough without me broadcasting the details from the car.”
Holt wasn’t so sure. A warning might have helped him prepare Lindsey. But that was just one regret he harbored. “I shouldn’t have called in Carver to the Noonans.”
Shane shook his head. “You needed to so we could have Kelly officially and publicly declared dead. Just as important, you needed to send a message to Simon Falls so that we could bring this showdown between him and Lindsey closer to happening.”
She picked that minute to walk into the room from the small hallway. “Good morning.” Her smile fell as she looked from one man to the other. “What’s wrong?”