like volcanic glass. 'Christ, Olivia, why didn't you tell me about Bill Gant?'
'It was nothing,' she retorted snidely, 'just business – my own business.'
His hands clenched on the steering wheel. 'You could've been hurt, raped, killed.' He glanced at her and his voice softened. 'I was worried about you.'
'I'm a big girl,' she reminded him, feeling like a child instead.
'So you keep saying,' he muttered and fell silent.
At her home in Sacramento Jack walked Olivia around to the rear of the house and fidgeted on the porch while she fumbled to find the spare key. If possible, she was edgier than ever. She'd overheard the patrolmen talking about Ted Burrows and the way he'd been caught. How could she have been such a bad judge of character about both her graduate student and her ex-husband?
Once inside she went straight to her bedroom upstairs, leaving Jack in the foyer. She wanted a hot shower, needed to scrub off the slimy feeling Bill had left on her. It was so strange, she thought, that she'd slept next to her ex-husband for nearly a year, had eaten countless meals across the kitchen table from him, made love with him, laughed sometimes, argued more frequently.
And now all she wanted to do was wash the scent and touch of him off her body. In the shower, after she scrubbed with soap and shampooed her hair, then washed all over again with a light lemony scented liquid, the shock of it all finally hit her. She collapsed to the floor, the water pounding on her from above, unable to control the sobs that overtook her.
Jack found her huddled under the running water of the shower. 'Livvie.' He grabbed a towel off the rack, reached in to shut off the now-tepid water, and wrapped her body tightly. 'You're freezing.' He rubbed her arms and legs vigorously.
By now her crying had subsided to sniffles and he set her on the toilet seat to flick on the heated overhead lamp and blot her hair dry with a smaller towel.
She shoved at his hands. 'I'm not a baby. You don't have to treat me like an infant.'
'Then stop acting like one,' he answered in a controlled, matter-of-fact voice.
Her face hardened and he knew that he'd used just the right tone to pull her back from the edge of hysteria. She straightened her shoulders.
'I'll give you time to dress,' he said quietly and closed the bathroom door behind him.
Downstairs he prepared hot chocolate. No coffee, she didn't need a stimulant. He'd try to give her a tranquilizer so she'd get some rest, but he suspected she'd resist. Slater promised to put a deputy on her door in case her ex- husband came back.
When Olivia slipped down the stairs twenty minutes later, she looked calmer, her hair was smoothed back from her forehead and twisted at her neck, and she wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She didn't look at all like she was going to bed even though her smooth face was free of makeup. He frowned, but said nothing, and handed her a mug.
They sat at the kitchen table while he explained about the guard and tried to reassure her. 'Here,' he said, handing her a capsule. 'This will help you sleep.'
She stared at the pill in his hand. 'I'm not taking drugs and I'm not going to bed.'
'Stop being so damn stubborn.'
She shook her head. 'I'm going wherever it is that you're going.'
'How do you know -? Never mind,' he said, jamming his fingers through his hair. 'I'm going back to the police station and you're not.'
She stared hard at him, her eyes darkening to the forest green they took on when she prepared for battle. Oh, he knew her mind. She'd heard about Burrows' arrest. He tried another tactic. 'Be reasonable, Olivia. You can't sit in on the interrogation of a murder suspect.'
'I want to hear what Ted Burrows says.'
'No, that's police business.'
'I knew him, thought he was a harmless overgrown boy,' she argued. 'I want to know why he… why he did what he did. And if he's the one who hurt Keisha.'
'He's not.'
'You don't know that for sure.'
Jack shoved back from his chair. 'Burrows is just another pervert who gets off on using helpless women.' He swiped his hand over his jaw, noting the thick growth. 'He had nothing to do with Keisha's death.'
She narrowed her eyes. 'I'm going. You can't stop me.'
That damned stubborn look on her face made him lose control. 'You're just pissed because of what your ex did to you,' he shouted.
She gripped the mug so hard he thought she'd break it. 'You bastard,' she whispered. 'You don't even know what he did or didn't do.'
'Then why don't you tell me, Olivia?' Sarcasm was heavy in his voice. 'In fact, why didn't you even tell me Gant was still in your life?'
'Why don't you tell me about what's really going on with you, Jack?' she countered, standing and leaning against the sink, challenging him with her set jaw and beautiful, angry mouth.
A mouth he suddenly wanted to ravish.
'Dammit, Olivia, now's not the time. Slater's holding the interview with Burrows. I need to be in on it.'
'You enlisted my help, remember? You came to me, persuaded me to assist in the case.'
He felt the fight go out of him. Reaching for her, he ran a finger down her cheek. She'd always had skin as soft and smooth as silk. God, how he'd loved touching her.
'Did he hurt you?' he asked softly. 'Did he -?' He couldn't bear the thought.
He trailed his fingertips down her neck and across the smooth, fine collarbone at the vee of her shirt. Her heart seemed to pulse beneath his touch like the wings of a trapped butterfly.
'He – no, he just wanted to terrify me.' She swallowed and his eyes followed the movement of her throat. 'He did. He scared the hell out of me.' She offered a small smile. 'He decided
'Then he's not as stupid as he sounds.' He grasped her shoulders and pulled her toward him, inhaling the faint scent of lemon and soap and the familiar smell of her skin. She sank into him and shuddered long and hard, so he held her tight for a moment, the soft wisps of her hair tickling his chin.
'Please let me go with you,' she whispered against his chest. 'I need to hear what he says.'
He felt his head bob in assent as he gave in.
Olivia observed the interrogation of Ted Burrows through the two-way glass in the largest of Bigler County Jail's interview rooms. She couldn't believe the graduate student in her mentoring class, the one she'd thought she knew, was this creepy man who acted so unrepentant for what he'd done to that poor girl.
He lounged indolently, his right arm slung over the back of a metal folding chair, and stared at a spot on the wall just beyond Jack's head. 'Hey, don't I get an attorney or something?' He tilted his Adonis frame back in the chair. 'You've got to provide one for me, right?' He smiled slyly as though he were in on a secret the rest of them weren't privy to.
'Shut up, Burrows,' Jack remarked in a mild voice. He batted languidly at a fly that buzzed around his head, his eyes fixed on the file that lay on the table between them. Slater lounged against the entry door, letting Jack take charge.
Olivia wanted to sit in on the actual questioning, but Slater had adamantly refused and finally relented enough to let her watch from the observation room. If Jack had his way, he'd shuttle her home, tuck her in bed, and force her to drink chicken soup. Or better yet, stick her in a hospital bed under heavy guard, with orderlies and nurses in attendance.
Her bitter laugh resounded eerily in the small area. After the police told her the details of what Ted had done, she wanted to confront the slimy weasel with the full force of her wrath.
How could she have been so wrong about him?
Olivia sighed, wrapped her arms tightly around her body, and turned her attention back to the interview. As
