“Suspicious is his middle name.”
Not denying it, Cait sighed and turned to get mugs out of the cupboard.
Noah didn’t want coffee and conversation; he wanted her. “Where’s Nell?” he asked.
“Work.” She saw his expression and backed away. “No way! Nell will be home in less than an hour, and who knows about Colin?”
“Come home with me for the night.” Voice gravelly, he caught her by the upper arms, squeezing gently.
“Oh, God.” Cait leaned into him, resting her forehead against his shoulder. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”
“You’re an adult,” he said with sudden frustration. “Big girls can have sleepovers.”
She straightened, and he saw her resolve. “Colin would flip. He’s going to want to hear every detail. And…I want to know when they’ve arrested Blake.”
A part of him knew she was right. The timing stank. But reason didn’t quell his desperate need for her. Ridiculous, when he hadn’t even known she was in danger until it was over. This wasn’t like last time, when he’d seen her car with the door standing open and the bullet holes and believed for a world-altering moment that she was dead.
“Let me hold you for a minute,” he whispered, and she melted against him, her arms wrapping him, too.
He was still aroused, but it helped, just feeling her, full body contact, the rise and fall of breath, the tickle of her hair. He consoled himself with the thought that at least she’d be able to go back to her town house now. Not that they wanted their relationship to be public knowledge, but at least it wouldn’t be so teenage with her having to sneak away from her stern guardian’s eye. He could park unobtrusively in the alley….
“No.”
He pulled back a little. “What?”
“You said at least I can go home tomorrow.” She lifted a face to him that was drawn, even haunted. “I can’t.”
His muscles went into lockdown. “Why not?”
“Noah, it wasn’t Blake. He had no idea what I was talking about.”
“You asked him about the shooting.”
Her head bobbed.
“You believe him.”
“I wish I didn’t,” she said miserably.
Noah swore and pulled her close again. He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “I’ll stay until Colin gets home.”
He almost missed the tiny sniffle. But not the whispered, “Thank you.”
* * *
COLIN PERSONALLY GRILLED that bastard two ways from Sunday and became reluctantly convinced that Cait was right—he was telling the truth. He’d been stalking Cait, but he hadn’t tried to gun her down in cold blood.
The bomb threat had been the most stupid-ass thing he could have done. Unfortunately, the most they could do was charge him with first-degree disorderly conduct, a misdemeanor that with luck would earn him a year in jail. For terrorizing Cait, Colin wanted to throw away the key.
But the flood of fear he felt had nothing to do with Blake Ralston. Colin left the interview room and Cait’s former boyfriend slumped behind the table, eyes vacant as he groped toward a realization of how badly he’d screwed up his life.
Colin had known Noah was standing on the other side of the one-way glass, but he hadn’t tried to deny him the right to hear what Ralston had to say. He didn’t like thinking Cait was getting involved with Chandler—but he wouldn’t have stopped it if he could. Not now. Chandler would do anything to protect her, and that made two of them instead of only one.
He was surprised to find that the mayor wasn’t alone. Lieutenant Jane Vahalik had joined him.
“Captain,” Vahalik said, some urgency underlying her tone.
God help them, what now? He raised his eyebrows.
She glanced at Noah, then back at Colin, her hesitation obvious. He gave a brief nod of permission that had Noah’s eyes narrowing.
“You know the rounds that killed Hegland were nine millimeter.”
He tensed.
“Ballistics report says the same gun was used in the attack on your sister.”
“What?” burst out of Noah. Colin was frozen silent.
“I didn’t say it made sense,” Jane said. “But given the way Hegland was killed, it’s not good news.”