Darci paced the floor, shooting evil looks at the silent phone. Four hours had passed since Kellan had called and she hadn’t heard another thing from him.
She stood at the window in the dining room, staring out at the silvery moonlight reflecting off the river.
“Jerk. How in the hell can you say that and hang up, and not call back?” she muttered, running a hand through her already tumbled hair. It stood up in messy spikes and curls from a hundred nervous passes of her hand. She rested her forehead against the cool pane of glass, closing her eyes and murmuring, “Where in the hell are you?”
Worry was a gnawing thing in her belly, making her gut churn, tightening her shoulders, aching in her head. Her fingers itched to pick up the phone and call, but she forced herself not to. Calling him, interrupting him…what if he was finding out who the killer was?
What if…if…what if the killer had gotten to him?
Panic blossomed in her mind and she turned around, bypassing the phone and heading out the front door, jogging down the steps. She heard Hank’s door slam and he met her on the sidewalk.
“What’s going on, Miss Law? What’s wrong?”
“Where’s Kellan?” she demanded.
“Darci, he wants you to stay inside,” Hank said flatly, taking her arm and trying to guide her back up the walk.
She jerked her arm away and planted herself in Hank’s face, poking him in the chest as she demanded, “Tell me where Kellan is. What in the hell is going on?”
His face softened and she felt a flush rise in her cheeks as the sympathy darkened his faded gray eyes. “He’s probably back at the hospital. Talking to Peggy Ralley.”
Darci’s jaw dropped and she felt her shoulders slump. “Not another one. Damn it, what is going on?”
Hank patted her shoulder. “Maybe I didn’t make that clear, Miss Law. He’s questioning Peggy Ralley. She showed up at the hospital this afternoon, blood splattering her shirt. Pulled a gun on the Sheriff. Turns out the gun wasn’t loaded. Possible that she wanted him to shoot her. They disarmed her somehow-I don’t know the details. But I’d say it’s over.”
The phone finally rang. Five and half hours after he’d told her that he thought he was in love with her, and then hung up on her. Oh, it had rung a few times before, just shortly after Hank told her about Peggy.
But it had been everybody
The phone rang again and she grabbed it, the strength leaving her knees as Kellan’s low voice murmured in her ear, “Wasn’t sure if you’d still be awake.”
She laughed shakily and said, “Well, I could have tried to go to bed. But I doubt I would have gotten any sleep, considering what you said right before you hung up on me.”
“Well, everything kind of went down pretty fast,” Kellan said softly. “I need to talk to you…but I know it’s late.”
She stared at the clock as the hour hand finally ticked to midnight and she shook her head. “I don’t care how late it is. I want to talk to you, too.”
Moments later, she lowered the phone, the dial tone sounding. Softly, she whispered, “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, too.”
Spinning around, she went to the bathroom, and stared at her reflection. Her hair stood up in wild spikes and she winced, grabbing some hair goop and slicking it through her hair, taming the wild tresses, smoothing the sides, fluffing the top a little.
Darci licked her lips nervously.
Makeup?
No. Not when it was past midnight. She turned away from her reflection and stomped out of the bathroom. Food. Food was good. Chances are, he hadn’t eaten, and come to think of it, she was kind of hungry.
There was stuff for lasagna, but that took so long. Spaghetti? No, not in the middle of the night.
Sandwiches. That would work. She grabbed the bread and tossed it on the counter. Roast beef, tomatoes, cheddar cheese, mayo, spicy mustard. Did he like spicy mustard?
She stared at the ingredients spread out in front of her for a long moment and then buried her face in her hands.
“I’m in love with a guy and I don’t even know what he likes on his sandwiches.”
Blowing out a breath, she washed her hands and then grabbed a couple of plates and a butter knife. If he liked spicy mustard, then he could add it to the sandwich himself. Right?
Right.
Her stomach screamed noisily at her as she finished the sandwiches and stood at the counter, eating hers. Maybe her belly would stop jumping if it wasn’t so empty.
She hoped.
But then the knock came on the door and she pressed a hand to her belly, the butterflies still raging. Nope. Didn’t work. But at least she wouldn’t pass out from hunger, right?
Nerves, embarrassment, panic…but not hunger.
Dropping her half-eaten sandwich on the plate, she left the kitchen, muttering to herself, “Why am I so nervous?”
Because she hadn’t once thought about what would happen beyond today. Hell, with all the insane things happening right now, and the nocturnal visits from nameless people, she had thought a time or two that maybe she wouldn’t have a tomorrow.
And this was much more nerve-racking than the memory of that pale face in her window. After all, she knew what that person had basically wanted. To scare her to death.
But Kellan…what did he want?
She opened the door slowly, staring at his face with wide eyes, catching her lip between her teeth. He looked exhausted. Stepping aside, she asked quietly, “Have you eaten anything?”
He grimaced. “No. Haven’t had time to think about it,” he said, shrugging.
Catching his hand, she led him into the kitchen and took the second sandwich, pushing the plate into his hand. A surprised look entered his eyes, a smile slowly edging up the corners of his mouth. “Thanks,” he murmured. He dropped into the chair and for a moment, just rested his elbows on the table, weariness in every line of his body.
Her heart clenched when he lifted his head, meeting her eyes as she stared at him from across the room. Something dark and hungry entered his gaze and then he looked away, reaching down to pick up the sandwich.
She spun away, that look striking her to the core, heating her belly, tightening her nipples. Flipping open the fridge, she grabbed a bottle of wine. “I’m going to have some wine. You want a glass? Or a soft drink?”
Kellan studied her bent head, his eyes running over her and settling on the fine tremor of her hands. “You seem a little nervous,” he murmured, lowering his half-eaten sandwich to the table and leaning back in the chair, watching as she pressed her hands to the counter, her shoulders rising and falling as she took a deep breath.
“Ummm…maybe a little.” She tugged the cork out of the half-empty bottle of wine and he was silent as she poured herself a glass and upended it, drinking half of it and then topping her glass off before she poured a second glass and turned around.
Kellan rose from the table and met her halfway across the room, taking it from her, lifting it to his lips, holding her stare all the while. He could see the pulse in her neck fluttering wildly. The wine slid down his throat, warm and smooth as liquid gold, and he took one more sip before setting it down and taking hers away, putting it on the table as well.
“Why?”
She blinked, staring at him owlishly, licking her lips. “Why what?” she whispered huskily.
