Jori pushed back against the seat. There were people dressed for a party thronging the entrance. Many of them had to be wedding guests. Her mom had said small wedding. Her eyes did a jittery dance over them, seeking yet fearing recognition.
The spinning sensation was back. The quivery feeling that her compass was shot and that, if she moved, she would simply dance off the edge of the mountain.
That’s when Law’s headlights caught a woman.
Jori couldn’t catch her breath. No, she’d stopped breathing. Memories quaked through her. They would know. They would all remember when her life had become a one-minute news spot on the local channels for weeks.
Bail denied. Flight risk.
A risk to whom?
Shame, thick and corrosive, coursed through her. She was going to be sick! No, that might be seen as an admission of guilt.
She’d not even been allowed to attend Brody’s funeral. What must his family think of her? Not her fault, his, that she was stuck in a jail cell.
Guilt—oh God! She’d been found guilty. Guilty, of what?
“Jori.”
Jori realized Law was saying her name. Had said it three times. She turned to him. In the gloom of the truck cab, it took her a moment to see the hard stare he bent on her.
“Have you changed your mind?” His tone was low and neutral. “We can go get a beer instead.”
A way out. He was offering it. But she wasn’t as much of a coward as that. “No. I’ve come here for answers. Let’s get them.”
He watched her for several long seconds, as if guessing her thoughts. “They can’t hurt you unless you let them.” He reached over and unhooked her seat belt and then grabbed her chin and planted a swift hard kiss on her mouth. “Let’s go get these bastards.”
Jori smiled. “You always talk as if you’re going to war.”
Law shook his head. “I’ve been to war. This is the opposite. We’re investigating a crime. Cool heads required.”
“You’re never cool.”
“Around you.” His face sobered with emotions at odds with his gentle tone. “You haven’t seen me doing my job. The Hoodie robber doesn’t count, either. Most of my job requires this face.”
Jori watched as every emotion but sharp watchfulness drained from his expression. Hard eyes, harder mouth. She shivered. He was right. She’d never seen that face. Someone was about to be in a world of trouble. She was glad it wasn’t her.
*
“Jori! You’re here.” Despite the crush of people in the columned lobby, cordoned off in the middle for a huge decorated tree, Heather Garrison spied her daughter the second she entered the hotel lobby.
Her mother threw her arms around Jori’s neck. “It must have been the traffic. I told everyone you’d come. I told them!”
Her mother’s voice squeezed Jori’s heart. It had not occurred to her that her mother would make believe that she was coming up until she could no longer hold on to that lie. For the first time it occurred to her that maybe not showing up would have been worse than being here. And that she had been unkind and thoughtless to think otherwise.
Heather released her daughter, her blue eyes swimming in unshed tears. “Let me see you. Yes. You chose the absolute best dress. It suits you perfectly.” Her mother rotated her fingers to make Jori twirl around. “Have you been to the gym? Your figure looks better than ever.”
Jori blushed as her mother’s joyous tone drew glances her way. “Work keeps me active. And look at you. You look like you could be the bride, Mom.”
It was true. Taller and slimmer in physique than Jori, her mother looked wonderful in her formfitting, blush-colored sequin mesh gown.
“Sorry we’re late.”
“We?” Heather Garrison’s gaze widened as she looked fully at the man who stood a little behind her daughter with his back angled to the wall. Her gaze stayed wide as it shifted to the shaggy dog the color of barbecue sauce wearing a service dog vest who sat beside him.
Jori reached back and snagged Law’s arm to pull him closer. “Mom, this is Lauray Battise.” She left out his title. Considering recent circumstances, mentioning that he was an officer of the law might not be considered a good thing. Sam pushed her head under Jori’s hand, reminding her. “Oh, and this is Sam, his service dog. I hope it’s okay that she’s with us.”
“It’s fine.” Her mother’s voice sounded pleased and girlish. Law was having that effect on the other women in the hallway, too. “Welcome. Mr. Baptist, is it?”
“Battise. Just call me Lauray.” Law held out his hand but Jori knew her mother wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to hug a good-looking man.
Sure enough she scooted under his arm to hug him, saying, “Oh, we aren’t a formal family, Lauray. I’m Heather, Jori’s mom.”
She gave him a quick squeeze and then backed up before her friendliness could be misinterpreted. “We’re happy to have any friend of Jori’s with us on this special day.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”