She rolled her eyes, oak branches rustling overhead, horns honking. "Hell no, but it needs to be done."
"Last chance to make a break for it."
"My running shoes are packed away." She reached for the door. "Let's get this over with."
God, he admired this woman's spunk. He gripped her elbow to stop her. "Hold on a second."
"What for?"
"For this." Leaning, he cupped the back of her head and sealed a kiss to her mouth, firm, intense, full of his restrained ache for her and unwavering drive to see her through this.
Safely. He slid his fingers from the thick tangle of her silky hair and angled back into his seat. "Now it's time to go inside."
She blinked, even swayed a little—ooh-rah—before regaining her balance.
Dodging bustling professionals and slow-strolling tourists, Bo ushered Paige through the revolving doors into the ice-chilled lobby. He scanned...and didn't have to look long before finding the man he recognized from Kurt Haugen's case.
The lawyer—Thomas Creech—peeled away from the wall, smoothing his palm-tree tie into a double-breasted suit that fit well, but didn't scream overpriced slick. Creech's startled surprise at seeing Bo attested to the lawyer's memory of him from the early stages of booking Haugen. The distinguished guy might look okay, but no way was Bo leaving her side.
Creech extended his hand and greeted both Paige and Bo. "I could have done this for you, Mrs. Haugen. It would have saved money, time and grief."
Like it mattered now when she was already here? Bo's approval meter for the fellow notched down. Of course that could have had something to do with how long the forty-year-old dude held Paige's hand, complete with a conciliatory pat.
Bo looped an arm around her shoulder. "Closure's important, Mr. Creech."
"Of course." He nodded before gesturing them forward. "Let's get on with it, then."
Bo kept his hand on her shoulder all the way back to the vault, a tomb-silent room lined with drawers. He wasn't sure if she allowed the comfort because she needed it or if she was too numb to notice. With the lawyer standing off to the side, the teller opened the drawer to reveal...
A lone envelope, plain white, with the words "Paige and Kirstie" scrawled on the outside.
She shivered under his hand, then stepped forward to take out the letter.
Two deep breaths later, she ran her thumbnail under the seal of the letter, scanned it, her face expressionless, before she carefully folded it and slid it back in, smoothing her hand to close the flap. "That bastard."
"What did he do?" Bo braced for whatever life had thrown Paige's way and ignored the niggling voice in his head telling him that forgetting this woman was no longer an option.
The attorney moved closer. "Is there something important?"
Important? Paige wanted to shout, stomp her foot, dig Kurt up and kick his selfish butt all over again. She'd cut her heart open again by coming back to Charleston for this?
Kurt's letter was nothing more than a manipulative ploy, full of justifications for all the horrible things he'd done. No apologies. Just more excuses and meaningless vows of love to his wife and kid.
The narcissistic bastard.
"No. Nothing important at all." She smacked a hand back against the safety deposit boxes. "God, I was hoping he'd left behind evidence to finger every last slime in the operation. But no. He just wanted to let us know—in case something happened to him—
how much he loves us. And how he did it all for us, to give us a better life like in the fairy tales and poems he made up for Kirstie. And to remember those if something happened to him. More bull no doubt meant to manipulate our emotions from the grave."
Would she show the letter to Kirstie? Not now. Maybe someday when her daughter was old enough to sort through the nuances of Kurt's amoral mind-set.
She smoothed the letter along the table again as if she could somehow iron out all the wrinkles in her life. "There's nothing concrete about the mess he drew us all into."
Bo's hand fell to her shoulder again, steadying without being overpowering. "You're sure?"
Of course. Wasn't she? "The letter seems straightforward."
"Maybe you should have the cops analyze it for hidden meanings."