“Tonight,” he said in a firm voice, “you’ll have me.”
Chapter Nine
Harlan listened to the sounds of Stacy putting Zachary to bed, feeling strangely lonely to be left out here in the living room, excluded from their nightly routine.
He’d been careful to keep his distance from them both that evening, not just to ease the wariness that lurked behind Stacy’s dark eyes but also because he didn’t want to throw Zachary’s schedule into flux. He knew the little boy disliked change, and he didn’t want to cause him any stress.
But he hadn’t reckoned with Zachary’s fascination with him. The boy had been Harlan’s shadow all night, and only the promise of another ride at the Twin Harts stables later that weekend had coaxed Zachary away from Harlan’s side at bedtime.
He should have called one of the other CSI agents to play bodyguard. Matt or Parker or Wade-someone already madly in love and immune to Stacy Giordano’s considerable charms.
Which, he had to admit, he was not. He wanted her. He could admit that much, couldn’t he?
Stacy emerged from the back of the house with a smile on her face and a stuffed horse in her arms. She handed the toy to Harlan. “Zachary sent you Bobbin in case you needed something to sleep with.”
She dropped into the armchair across from where he sat on the sofa, tucking her legs up under her. “I’m sorry he made a pest of himself tonight.”
“He didn’t. I like the little guy. He’s really smart.”
“Asperger’s isn’t all bad,” she said. “He could have been born with severe autism and be unable to communicate at all.”
“It must be expensive, dealing with his needs.”
Her smile faded. “It’s why I have to keep this job.”
“Can’t your ex pay more child support?”
“I could ask, and I will if I have to. But I depended on Anthony to be there for me and for Zachary, no matter what, and he failed me. That’s one mistake I don’t intend to repeat.”
Harlan could sympathize. He’d counted on that same sort of loyalty from Alexis. Of course, now that he was a couple of years past her betrayal, he could see his own failures that had led to their divorce. But the big one-the infidelity-that was all Alexis. He’d never broken his vows to her until she shattered them by cheating.
“Do you really think that call was a threat?” Stacy asked.
Grateful for the change of subject, Harlan answered as truthfully as he could. “I don’t know. I can’t assume anything at this point.”
“I wish we knew why the governor’s a target. It would give us a better idea where to start looking for suspects.”
“It could be anything,” Harlan pointed out. “She’s a woman-maybe someone doesn’t think a woman should be president. It could be eco-terrorists or someone who doesn’t like her Big Oil connections. It could even be far-right militia members who see her as another cog in the government machine.”
“Could it be personal? Someone she’s ticked off over the years?” Stacy asked.
“Maybe,” Harlan conceded. “Do you know anyone who fits that bill?”
“Well, Henry Kemp, of course-he’s always held on to that family grudge about the land purchase-but you’ve ruled him out now, haven’t you?”
Harlan hoped so, since his fellow agent Wade Coltrane was crazy in love with Kemp’s daughter Lindsay. “Anybody else come to mind?” He’d read over all the files by now and knew the governor was outspoken enough to draw fire from any number of special interest groups, but Stacy was in the governor’s inner circle. She might know things the files didn’t reveal.
“Allen Davidson can’t stand her.” Stacy grimaced. “He’s a radio talk show host out of Dallas. They’ve crossed swords more than once. But I can’t see him setting a bomb.”
“Not even for higher ratings?” Harlan teased, making Stacy smile. His body tightened at the sight.
“There’s also Bill Arkwright.”
“The mayor?”
“He’s not Lila’s biggest fan. But does he dislike her enough to plant a bomb in Austin? Not seeing it.”
“What about protestors? Have you come across any new groups lately?”
“The usual, really. Peace groups who don’t approve of her support for military action overseas. Animal activists who don’t like that she’s a rancher and a carnivore. Environmentalists who hate her oil interests and her land management policies. Anarchists who hate government in general.” Stacy shrugged. “You’ve probably seen all the files the state police have compiled on the various groups.”
He had. None of them had stood out as blatant threats, although he supposed all of the groups might contain dangerous elements that weren’t immediately obvious. “I guess, given the way Frank Dorian went after her, we should check on other death row inmates who were executed on her watch.”
“We looked at the prison records after Frank Dorian went after Lila,” she said. “There were 178 executions during her administration. The Texas Ranger Division is still looking into all of those and should have a threat assessment in a couple of weeks. Didn’t anyone tell you about that?”
“You just did,” Harlan said with a grimace. That many executions made for a lot of potential suspects. He had an old Marine Corp buddy who was working with the Texas Rangers these days. He’d have to give Steve a call and see if his old pal could pull any strings for him.
“You can’t be an effective governor without making enemies.” She shifted position until she sat cross-legged in the armchair. After dinner, she’d changed into a comfortable pair of knit pants and a faded Rice University T-shirt. It should have made her look a lot less sexy.
It didn’t.
He nodded at the shirt. “I thought you were from Arkansas.”
She looked down at the tee. “I went to Rice for college. Alabama for my master’s. Vandy for my PhD-that’s where I was working when Anthony decided we should move to Texas.”
She really, really didn’t care for her ex. He could tell from her tone of voice when she spoke of him. Of course, given what little he knew about the guy, he couldn’t blame her. He wondered why she’d ever married him in the first place, but he didn’t think he had a right to ask that question of her. After all, who was he to cast stones when it came to bad judgment in spouses?
But her mind seemed to move in the same direction, and, apparently, she didn’t mind asking questions of her own. “I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Matt were talking about at the diner. Your ex-wife is getting remarried?”
He nodded. “She’s marrying her divorce lawyer.”
Stacy winced. “Ouch.”
“We married young. And foolish.”
Her smile was wry. “I wish I had that excuse. I was nearly twenty-six when I married Anthony. It was a whirlwind thing-my first serious relationship, really. I spent high school and most of college so immersed in my studies I barely looked up to notice the opposite sex.”
He couldn’t imagine how a woman as lovely and interesting as Stacy had managed to get through so many years of school without having a serious relationship or two. “Were you shy or something?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if her mind were traveling back to her past. “Not shy. I was just really disciplined.”
“Your parents were strict?”
“They were,” she admitted. “They had reason to be. Not because of me, though. It was really about my older sister Tracy. She gave them a lot of trouble. Gave herself a lot of trouble, really.”
“And they tried to make sure the same thing didn’t happen to you?” he guessed.
“They didn’t have to try hard. I saw the kind of messes Tracy got herself into. I didn’t want that for myself. I
