In the light of day, Krys felt somewhat insecure about what she had allowed to happen between them. Hell, she had not only allowed it to happen, she was the one who had pushed for it to happen.
Well, no time like the present to talk about the elephant in the room and get it out of the way.
“About last night,” Krys began.
But she got no further, stopped cold by the very wide, happy grin on Morgan’s face.
“That was pretty spectacular, wasn’t it?” he asked her.
She frowned a little, pulled up short. “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”
“It wasn’t?” he questioned innocently. “Well, I was—and I just did,” he added. Morgan looked at her more closely. “Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”
Even though she wanted to deny that she had, she couldn’t very well lie about it. He’d see right through her. “Well, yes, I did.” Then, annoyed, she told him, “But that isn’t the point.”
“It’s not?” he asked. “I certainly thought it was. A very pertinent point,” he added. “But I’m interrupting,” he told her. His eyes captured hers, delving into them. “What was it that you were going to say about last night?”
She took a deep breath, as if to fortify herself, and then said, “That it shouldn’t have happened.”
“Oh. But it did,” he pointed out. “That means the cat’s out of the bag and there’s no putting it back in,” he told her, his grin only growing wider with each word. And then, just like that, it vanished. “Are you having regrets?”
“Yes,” she said quickly, then amended, “No, I’m not.” Finally, she said, “Not exactly.”
“I didn’t realize I was asking a multiple choice question,” he told her, his grin returning.
Krys frowned slightly. It was a frustrated frown. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
“Can we vote on that?” he asked her. “Because if we can, then I vote yes—that you should have done it.”
“I’m getting a headache,” she said, running her hand along her forehead as if that could somehow wipe it away out of existence.
“I happen to have an old family remedy for that,” Morgan told her. He cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Interested?”
It made her laugh. He made her laugh. But the remedy had to be made up, she thought. “I think I’ll pass,” she told him.
“Too bad. It really is a great remedy,” he confided.
She chose to ignore him.
Chapter 19
Krys had just slipped into her bedroom after telling him she was going to get ready for his uncle’s party. She closed the door behind her.
Morgan resisted the temptation to follow her. While it was true that over the last few days, he had gotten to intimately know every inch of her body and she his, it still wouldn’t be right to have her think that he was taking things for granted. After all, she did deserve her privacy.
Trying to keep his mind occupied, he decided that this would be a good time to check in with his partner to see how things were going. The last he had heard, as of yesterday, his team was still following up every available lead to find out just who had killed Claire Williams. He knew that Krys was hoping they could trace the person back to Jacobs, the CEO in charge of production at Weatherly Pharmaceuticals, but right now, all they had was her gut feeling, or what passed as a gut feeling.
As he listened, the number at the other end of his cell rang a total of five times. He was about to hang up and call again when he heard the cell on the other end being picked up.
Finally!
“I was beginning to think that you had gone on vacation,” Morgan quipped to his partner. “Your phone must have rung at least ten times, if not more.”
“You’re exaggerating, Cavanaugh,” Fredericks told him. “And besides, I’ve got better things to do than just to sit around, waiting for your call.”
“Right. You know, for a change of pace, you could try calling me,” Morgan pointed out.
“If I wanted to be nagged about a litany of imaginary shortcomings, I would have stayed home today,” Fredericks told him.
“Okay, truce,” Morgan said, shifting his phone to his other hand. He didn’t want the sound of his voice to carry and alert Krys until he knew what, if anything, he was going to hear. Now was not the time to upset her in any way. “I’m calling to find out if there’s been any headway made in finding out who was responsible for the Claire Williams shooting.”
He heard Fredericks chuckle and knew the man did have something to tell him. “Well, as a matter of fact, I’ve got some good news and some bad news about that.” His partner paused, possibly for dramatic effect, and then said, “Oddly enough, it’s the same news.”
“Since when did ‘gibberish’ become a second language for you, Fredericks?”
“Look, you want to hear this or not?” his partner asked. “Because I can just as easily hang up right now and leave you and that hot little journalist friend of yours hanging.”
Morgan rolled his eyes. He had forgotten how touchy his partner could be at times. It was the result of feeling as if he was on the outside, looking in when it came to the Cavanaughs. “Sorry, what’s this dual news of yours?”
Fredericks paused in order to give the moment its due, then declared, “We found the person who killed that woman in the park.”
Morgan came to attention. Just like that? This seemed too easy. “You’re sure it’s the killer?”
“No, I’m making this up because I want to leave the precinct early. Yes, I’m sure,” he snapped, stressing the point.
“Why didn’t you call me as soon as you found this out?”
“I just did,” Fredericks informed him. “I just literally found this out and finished verifying the information.”
Morgan assumed that this was the
