The restaurant door opened again, and Henry wasn’t quite as prepared as he’d thought. Betty, wearing a dark blue dress, frowned as she walked toward his car. Lost in a memory he shouldn’t have let enter his mind, it was last-minute when he opened his door so he could walk around and open hers.
As he stood, locked eyes with her over the top of the car, he wished he could take pride in himself for not feeling anything. But he couldn’t, because he did feel something.
She didn’t say a word.
Neither did he.
She opened her door.
He sat back down in the driver’s seat.
She climbed in and stared out the windshield. “Jane will ride with Lane and Patsy.”
He let the air that had been locked in his lungs out and started the car.
“What are you doing here, Henry?”
“We need to talk.”
The hands she had folded in her lap were trembling. “About what?”
Jane must have followed his orders. “Do you know a man named Curtis Elkin?”
“No.”
“Did you tell anyone about the tunnel in the abandoned house?”
“No.”
“Not even Lane?” He knew she hadn’t, but was buying himself some time to get his feelings under control. Hidden, where they belonged.
“No. Why would I have told Lane about that?”
He drove several blocks toward town, keeping an eye out for followers. The light, sweet scent of her perfume was filling the air, and a battle of wills fought inside him over how badly he wanted to touch her. Even just her hand. Her arm.
“Patsy told me you were shanghaied,” she said quietly.
“I was, and I returned as soon as possible.” He turned a corner and attempted to keep his mind on driving, not on how much he’d thought about her during his absence. No one had ever made him as confused as she had. As she did.
“Why did you return? Your case is over. Burrows was arrested.”
“Yes, Burrows was arrested, but my assignment isn’t over.” He turned a corner, still watching for followers. There hadn’t been any so far, and he hoped there wouldn’t be. He’d always preferred to be the follower, not the one being followed.
“Is that why Lane and Patsy and Jane are to meet us at the house?”
“Yes.”
“Why? What do any of us have to do with it?”
“I’ll explain all that when we get there.” He took another corner, heading back toward the outskirts of town and the house. “I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Why?”
There was another battle going on inside him, over how she was being so reserved, almost indifferent. That wasn’t the Betty he knew. The one he’d come to know very, very well. What had he expected? For her to leap into his arms? He should be happy she was so aloof because what had happened before couldn’t happen again. “Because I needed to ask you about the house, if you’d told anyone.” It was an excuse. He was again buying time before asking her if there were any repercussions he should know about. He’d thought about that a lot during his absence.
“No, I haven’t told anyone.” She looked out the passenger window. “Anything.”
He nodded. “Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Thank you.”
Her reply had been soft, and shaky. Embarrassed? For being engaged to someone else so shortly after their...encounter. That irritated him. No, it went deeper than irritation. To a place he didn’t know existed. Nor did he want to know. He forced it all to go away, to bury itself deep inside him as he drove a few more blocks where the sound of her uneven breathing echoed in his ears. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” Her reply was much faster and her breathing quickened.
“In every way?” He hoped she understood what he meant.
“Yes.”
“That’s good.” Guilt along with an odd disappointment wormed its way inside him. He wasn’t sure why, nor was he going to investigate it. What he was going to do was focus on this case. “I also owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“When we met again, after three years, I questioned if meeting you was more than a coincidence. Questioned if you had been involved in the leaking of information that had happened in Seattle and here Los Angeles.”
“Me? Leaking information?”
He was blundering this. He wasn’t used to apologizing, and making it sound worse than it was. “Yes, I had to. That’s what I do. Investigate crimes. Find criminals.”
“Exactly what involvement did you need to investigate?”
She was looking at him now. Giving him a glare that could make men tremble in their boots.
Chapter Eight
Betty had been angry before, very angry, but the level that was rising inside her right now went beyond all she’d ever known. Investigating her. Leaking information. Did he think she was completely stupid? He was making up an excuse. An excuse as to why... She refused to even remember that moment. Any moments she’d spent with him.
“I’ll explain it all at the house,” he said. “When Lane and your sisters arrive.”
“No, you’ll explain it now. What information was I supposed to have leaked?”
“None. I just questioned if you had.”
“Why?”
He huffed out a breath. “Because that’s happened to me before. A woman using her charms to get information.”
Her anger was growing. So was the hurt inside. Everything about him went back to his job. It was the only thing he ever thought about, ever cared about.
She didn’t respond to his answer because she was never going to talk to him again. Ever. The shock of hearing he’d been shanghaied had devastated her, and then hearing he was in a car, waiting for her, had elated her, but then she’d seen him. His face. How cold and...like he’d never wanted to see her again. That had been in his voice, too, when he’d asked if she was all right, in every way. She was fine, in every way, except for being mad. So mad
