The 6th Target (Women's Murder Club 6)

I was dissolving in the heat, but as much as I was dying for him, something else was going on in my head. I was fighting my feelings for Joe, and I didn’t know why.

Then the answer came: I don’t want to do this.

Chapter 39

I FELT CRAZY, wanting Joe and not wanting him at the same time.

I rationalized at first that I was still swimming in worry for Madison and Paola, but what came to mind was my shame at showing up at Joe’s place nearly two weeks ago, needing him so much, feeling as though I’d gone where I didn’t belong.

He was lying beside me now, his hand on the plane of my belly.

“What is it, Lindsay?”

I shook my head — No, nothing’s wrong — but Joe turned me toward him, made me look into his deep blue eyes.

“I had a horrible day,” I told him.

“Sure,” he said, “that’s not new. But your mood is.”

I felt tears spring from my eyes, and that embarrassed me. I didn’t want to be vulnerable with Joe. Not now anyway.

“Start talking, Blondie,” he said.

I rolled toward him and put my arm over his chest, tucked my head under his jaw. “I can’t take this, Joe.”

“I know, I know how you feel. I want to move here, but it’s not the right time.”

My breathing slowed as he talked about the current state of the war, next year’s elections, the bombings in major cities, and the focus on Homeland Security.

At some point, I stopped listening. I got out of bed and put on a robe.

“Are you coming back?” Joe asked.

“There it is,” I said. “I’m always asking myself that question about you.”

Joe started to protest, but I said, “Let me talk.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, said, “As good as this can be, that’s how bad it is because I can’t count on you, Joe. I’m too old for jack-in-the-box love.”

“Linds —”

“You know I’m right. I don’t know when I’ll be seeing you, if I’ll reach you when I call. Then you’re here, and then you’re gone, and I’m left behind, missing you.

“We have no time to relax together, be normal, have a life. We’ve talked and talked about your moving here, but we both know it’s impossible.”

“Lindsay, I swear —”

“I can’t wait for the next administration or the war to be over. Do you understand?”

He was sitting up now, legs over the side of the bed, so much love in his face I had to turn away.

“I love you, Lindsay. Please, let’s not fight. I have to leave in the morning.”

“You have to leave now, Joe,” I heard myself say. “It kills me to say this, but I don’t want any more well-intentioned promises,” I said. “Let’s end this, okay? We had a great time. Please? If you love me, let me go.”

After Joe kissed me good-bye, I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time, tears soaking my pillow. I wondered what the hell I had done.

Chapter 40