“Right, but why kill Wynnie?”
“That’s the third reason to not call him back. It’s too thin. If you were the target and they got Wynnie for some damn reason, why abduct you at Target only to drop you back here within hours?”
“So... you don’t think it’s Trey, either?”
I shook my head. “No, Rae. I don’t know what to think, but I’m not ruling anything out.” Hiking my knee up onto the bed, I shifted to face her. “My question to you before we went back to sleep was ‘did you piss someone off in New York?’ It still stands, Rae. Because, I hate to say it, but you seem to be the only link in this craziness.”
Chapter 12
Send Out Christmas Cards
Raegan
MY MIND RACED WITH the idea I could be the reason my sister had been killed. Clint ran a hand along my cheek, and I knew my thoughts were written on my face.
Before either of us could speak, Mom’s voice came from the other side of the door. “Clint, dear. Do you still want your bagel? It’s getting cold.”
I shook with silent laughter.
My hands cupped his bristly cheeks. “Thank you, Clint. For everything last night, but definitely for scaring away Mr. Hipps today. He made it his mission to give me a piece of his mind when I first got here. I wish I had you telling him off on video.”
His eyes went fiery, but this was the fire I saw regularly nine years ago. Then, he leaned forward and kissed me breathless. By the time he pulled away from me, I was straddling him.
His hands settled on my hips, stilling my progress, but his eyes danced over my face. “Mamita, it’s great knowing our chemistry hasn’t fizzled, but odds are damn good your mother’s on the other side of that door. Hearing aid in place.”
I rested my forehead on his. “You sure do have a cool head, Ramsey.”
“Are you making chauvinistic stereotypes about me, Connelly?”
I exhaled and climbed off him. “Touché.”
Before he opened the bedroom door, Clint aimed fiery eyes at me. “I can swing it with Brock or maybe Gabe, you’re comin’ home with me tonight.”
My body froze. “Um. Are you still in that apart—”
“Fuck, no, Rae. Told you already, I’m not ten minutes from here. I’m in a house, and as long as I got someone to stick around for Penny, you’re gonna be in my bed tonight.”
BY TEN-THIRTY CLINT had gone to work, but he’d left his gun with me. While he went through the academy, back in our day, he had taken me out to a wooded area and taught me how to shoot. Once I had mastered obliterating empty cans, he took me to the shooting range.
This morning, he insisted I unload the weapon, reload it, release the safety, and prove I remembered how to handle a gun. The pride in his smile kept me from making a smart-aleck response. He kissed me hard, then told me to put the gun somewhere high. At my questioning look, he pointed out Tanya would likely be by today, and I suddenly wished he’d take his gun with him.
“It’ll be fine. Keep it out of reach and out of sight, baby. Just not in a cookie jar,” he said, an evil glint in his eye, since he referenced one of my favorite series of books.
I threw my arms out and up at an angle. “My point exactly! I should not be—”
“Shh.”
He took it from me, put it in my purse and tucked the purse into a recessed corner of the counter nobody else would look at twice.
“Geez. Are you ever sneaky.”
He winked. “Don’t you forget it.”
Then he left and I caught Mom rearranging her face. Until she realized I might see her, the smile on her face could light up billboards. Then her schooled features were blander than hospital food.
I sat on the couch adjacent to her recliner. “You’re just tickled pink, aren’t you?”
“You remember that sheep they cloned?” she asked.
I looked at her askance. “Yeah.”
“If those people cloned your ex-husband five times over, all of them together wouldn’t equal half the man Clint Ramsey is.”
I swallowed as tears gathered in my eyes. “Okay, Mom.”
“He told me not to hope.”
My eyes slid side to side. “Um, who?”
“Clint. Told me not to hope for a reunion between you two. So, I’ll tell you what I told him. He’s the best thing that ever happened to you, honey.”
Hearing Mom’s wishes I couldn’t even look her in the eye. “Mom...”
“Don’t mess this up, Raegan.”
“No pressure there or anything, Mom.”
She scoffed. “Don’t think of it as pressure, honey. Think of it as good fortune. You know what you lost when it ended last time. Make sure you give it everything you can this go ‘round.”
A weight settled on my chest because I was already afraid.
Mom grabbed my hand. “I know that look, Raegan. Tell me what’s on your mind?”
I stared at my lap for a long moment before I could look her in the eye. “Mom, what about New York? I had an interview before I came down, and until I got... your call, it had gone really well. I’d finally be moving up, and none of it would be because of Trey or anything possibly tainted from his influence...or lack thereof.”
Mom frowned. “That job going to keep you warm at night? You get some uppity title that’ll make you feel good for all of two hours before the stress and bullshit that comes with it brings you back down to earth. A good job will ensure you have a 401K and money when you’re my age, but who gives a good Goddamn if there isn’t someone with you to live life.”
I nodded. “It would take a load off if I relocated.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, take a load off?”
I sighed. “I mean, I wouldn’t have to interview people to come
