“Oh, Mom. I can’t tell you that,” Jag said with a wicked grin.
His mother narrowed her eyes. “I already know she’s sleeping in your bed, so that’s a start, but satisfying a woman in the sack isn’t going to keep her forever. That’s just the icing on the cake.”
Troy snagged another beer. “That’s my cue to leave.”
“Mine too,” Jag said.
“You’re not going anywhere.” His mom gave him a good shove in the back. “Take a seat at the table.” She poured herself a glass of white wine and handed him another beer.
“Mom. I love you. But I’m a grown-ass man. I don’t need help with my love life.”
“Do you really want to reconcile?” She reached across the table and took him by the hand. “And I mean a long-term reconciliation as in give her the ring back?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “She doesn’t know I found it, so please don’t say anything.”
“I won’t. Now answer my question.”
“You’re worse than me in an interrogation room.”
His mother smiled like she’d just won the lottery.
He let out a long breath. “Yes. I want her back in a forever way.”
“Have you told her how you feel?”
“She knows I still love her, and yes, she still loves me.” He held up his hand when his mother started to smile. “But she doesn’t think we have a chance in hell and plans on leaving in a couple of weeks.”
“I see. So what are you doing, besides assuming sex solves everything?”
“I’m listening to her, something I didn’t do last year when it came to her instincts about certain things.”
His mother nodded. “The murder out on the island today. Why is she looking into…” His mom’s words trailed off as her eyes went wide. “You don’t believe that the Trinket Killer is back, do you?”
“I can’t talk about that with you.”
“That’s cop speak for yes.”
“It’s not a yes.” He lowered his gaze. “But it’s not a no either.”
“Understood,” his mother said. “But that scares me, especially with her being back. Stephanie, outside of you, was her entire world.”
“I know. And I let them both down.” Thick emotion clung to his throat, making it difficult to swallow. “I’m doing everything I can think of to make it up to her and show her that I’ve changed. That I’m not the same arrogant asshole that belittled her theories and lied to her.”
“Now, you I know I love that girl. And I want the two of you to work this out. But has she changed?”
He nodded. “But she’s jaded, and she’s built a wall around her so high that it’s going to take some doing on my part to knock it down, and the clock is ticking.”
“You said she’s staying until she finishes the book. But if this thing you can’t talk about is connected, won’t that change the time she will need to complete the project?”
“It might. But that could also cause a new rift. Right now, I’m giving her full disclosure, which could get me fired. The thing is I’m not doing it to get her back. I’m doing it because she’s smarter than me, and she’s onto something, and I need her help.”
“So tell her that.”
“I plan on it, but the timing has to be just right.” He lifted his mom’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m not going to let her go this time without a fight.”
Chapter 12
Callie took off her computer glasses and set them aside. She lifted her laptop off her legs and put it on the coffee table. Her gaze shifted between city hall and Puget Sound. The edge of the sun kissed the mountains, and the sky exploded into a swarm of purples, oranges, pinks, and reds dancing over the ripples of the water.
“What a view,” she whispered. She could get used to island life, especially in this little gem of a house with a master suite that had the best little porch ever. There were no homes behind Jag’s, so he didn’t block anyone else’s view of the sound.
She picked up her cell. It was close to four in the afternoon. Jag had left for the office at six. He’d texted her a few times and told her he’d probably make it back by five or five thirty. Not that she was a needy woman and made any kind of demands on any man she’d ever dated.
But she was going stir-crazy and cross-eyed between writing and research.
Callie: How’s work?
Instead of staring at the phone waiting for the bubbles to pop up, she dropped her head back and sucked in a deep breath. For some reason, the air on the islands in Puget Sound had a denseness to it. It wasn’t harsh, like trying to take a deep breath near a smoke-filled city. It was more like the salt and fog clashing together making a thicker, fresher air that expanded her lungs in a way that no other place could.
Ding.
She smiled, lifting her cell.
Jag: Unusually busy today. Lost dog. Bicycling accident. House fire. And a lego stuck in a teenager’s nose. Don’t ask.
She laughed.
Callie: Where are you?
Jag: Headed up to Beverly Beach.
Callie: Why?
Jag: About to get in patrol car. Got to go. I’ll text when I’m on my way home.
Fucker. He used to love doing that to her, knowing she’d never keep texting once she knew he was in a moving vehicle. Usually, whatever call he was heading out on wasn’t anything for her to worry about, so she set her phone down. Her computer screen daunted her. She’d written five thousand words, which was close to half the chapter dedicated to Jag. It was easier to write than she thought in the sense that so much of the anger she’d been hanging on to for the last year had evaporated, unlike the constant fog that Seattle lived under. That allowed her to look at Jag a little more objectively.
But it was also harder because a different set of
