Had he been fishing? April had loved him. Nobody could fake emotion...and passion like that. But something had happened the week before their wedding. It was as if she turned off a switch. When she’d broken the news to him that she was backing out, it hadn’t even surprised him.
“Why’d you get engaged...again?” He crossed his arms, digging his fingertips into his biceps. She’d already told him more about why she ended this engagement than why she’d ended their own. Maybe one thing would lead to another.
“I don’t know. Maybe I was looking for some stability. Maybe I was tired of handling everything on my own.”
“By everything, you mean Adam.” He clenched his jaw. He could’ve handled Adam. He could’ve offered stability. He thought that’s why she ran. She’d become addicted to drama and what he represented lacked excitement. Hell, he knew he worked too many hours, got too involved in his cases.
“Yes, Adam.” Her eyes glittered a dangerous blue as she dragged a fingernail across the label on the bottle.
“Why did he call?”
“To make sure I’d landed here. To make sure I was safe.”
Clay snorted. “When has Adam ever been concerned for your safety? Unless he’s changed.”
“He’s had it rough, Clay.” She sniffed and swiped the back of her hand across her nose. “He’s the one who found Mom.”
He passed on the opportunity to remind April that Adam had been a screwup before the murder of their mother. April would defend her brother come hell or high water.
He released a long breath as his stomach rumbled with hunger. “What now? Are you going to Mexico? How are you going to do that without ID?”
“C’mon, Clay.” She tilted her head. “I’m a Paradiso girl. I know how to slip across the border with the best of ’em.”
He jabbed a finger at the baggy T-shirt she’d picked from his closet. It had never looked so good. “Are you going to get some clothes? A bag? Toiletries? Or is Adam going to pick up your stuff for you?”
“Oh, no. He can’t...he’s not going to do that.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t want him to.”
“You mean he couldn’t be bothered.” He held up his hand as she started her defense of her brother. “Save it. Do you have a friend who can get your stuff? Send it to you? Where is your stuff?”
“Albuquerque. Don’t worry about it. It’s just that—stuff. Anything I have of importance is right here in Paradiso.”
Too bad she didn’t mean him. “Your place looks good. Your cousin’s taking good care of the house.”
She twisted her mouth. “I suppose I should stay with Cousin Meg while I regroup here.”
As he carefully picked up her empty bottle and turned toward the trash, he said, “Regroup in Paradiso?”
“I think I should at least try to get my wallet, ID, credit cards and all those other items that tie you to civilization.” She clicked her nails against the tile counter. “People do disappear, though, don’t they?”
“Your father did it. You thinking of following in his footsteps?”
She dropped her hands in her lap and slumped. “No.”
Clay bit the inside of his cheek. Talking to April had become a minefield. He couldn’t mention her brother, her mother, her father or her most recent fiancé.
He poked the paper bag containing his burrito, which must be a soggy mess by now. “Are you going to drive to the house? You can call Meg on my phone first to warn her.”
She slid from the stool and stretched her arms to the ceiling, the loose T-shirt taking shape around her body. “Can I buy one more day at your place before facing the inquisition over there? I’ll even drive into town and pick up some dinner for you. I can hear your stomach growling from over here.”
“I’m good.” He rubbed his empty belly. “I have some leftover pasta from last night. Do you want some?”
She covered her mouth. “Ugh, no. I can’t get the squishing sound of that head hitting the porch out of my head. Makes me feel queasy every time I think about it.”
“Do you mind if I eat in front of you?” He plucked up the bag from Rosita’s with his fingertips. “This has been through the ringer tonight. Dropped on the ground, probably stepped on and who knows what got into the bag.”
“I don’t want to think about that, either.” She crossed her hands over her chest. “Water?”
Clay retrieved the leftover pasta and a bottle of water from the fridge. He stuck the plastic bowl with the pasta in the microwave and poured the water into a glass with ice. As he placed it in front of April, he said, “You’re serious about staying here tonight?”
“If you’re serious about having me.”
“I don’t think I answered either way.” The microwave buzzed, and he pivoted away from April as her lips parted. He picked up the bowl and dropped it on the counter as it burned his fingers.
She wrinkled her nose at the steam that rose from the pasta. “Better let me know one way or the other because I’ll have to drive to the house, and I’d rather do it before it gets too late.”
“Are you worried about who and what’s out there?” He took the seat beside her and pointed his fork at the windows in the living room.
“Why did someone leave that head on your porch?” She pinned her hands between her knees, which bounced up and down. “You just found the woman’s body today?”
“We found her this afternoon after an image came through from our drone we have out there. She was on our side of the border at the mouth of a tunnel. Nash crawled through the tunnel to see if she left anything behind.”
“Like her head?”
“Drugs, money, cell phone.” He twirled his fork in the pasta drenched with marinara. “Nothing. They left her with nothing.”
“Except the carving of a fly in her cold, dead