"Roger, please don't go. Roger, I'm begging you, please don't do this…"
In the next instant, Bobby was setting me back and I was reeling away. We retreated to separate corners of the tiny kitchenette, both breathing hard and refusing to meet each other's gaze. Bella scrambled up from her dog bed. Now she pressed against me anxiously. I reached down and focused on smoothing the fur around her face.
Minute turned into minute. I used the time to school my features, to find my composure. If Bobby had taken even one step forward, I would've gone to him. Yet, the moment we were done, I would've pulled away. Hid behind the smooth composure I had perfected over the years.
And I realized again that my mother had not been the only casualty of my father's war. He had taken something from me, too, and I didn't know how to get it back.
"What about my mother?" I asked abruptly "Leslie Ann Granger. Maybe, for some reason, my parents had everything in her name."
"Annabelle, I've searched for both of your parents' names. Nothing."
"We existed," I insisted weakly, stroking Bella's fur, feeling the reassuring weight of her head pressing against my hands. "We played with the neighbors, had a social life, a role in the community. I went to school, my father had a job, my mother was in the PTA. That's all real. I remember it. Arlington was not a figment of my imagination."
"What about before Arlington?"
"I… I don't know. I don't remember a before."
"It's something to ask the neighbors," he said.
"Yes, I suppose."
He had straightened again, seemed to be pulling himself together. "I can't promise you where this will go," he said abruptly "Six bodies are six bodies. We have an obligation to ask every question, to pursue every lead. Already this case has a life of its own."
"I know."
"Maybe, for the near term, you should keep a low profile."
I had to smile, but it came out lopsided. "Bobby, I live under an assumed name. I have no friends, never speak to my neighbors, and belong to no social organizations. The closest thing I've got to a long-term relationship is the UPS man. Frankly, if I fall much lower on the social ladder, I'll be an amoeba."
"I don't like you working at night," Bobby continued as if I hadn't spoken. His eyes narrowed, he looked from me to Bella then back to me. "Or running after dark."
I shook my head. The worst of the shock was wearing off, my defenses shoring up. "I'm a grown woman, Bobby I'm not hiding anymore."
"Annabelle—"
"I understand you gotta do your job, Bobby. You might as well understand that I'm going to do mine."
Clearly, he was not happy. But to give him credit, he stopped arguing. Bella seemed to sense the lowering tension. She wandered over to Bobby and shamelessly pressed her nose into the palm of his hand.
"I gotta go," Bobby said, but he still wasn't moving.
"Task-force meeting about the note."
He refused to take the bait, so finally I followed his lead and let it go. "I need to get ready for work as well," I said, hoping my voice didn't sound as tired as I felt.
"Annabelle…"
"Bobby."
"I can't. You and me. There are ethics involved. I can't."
"I'm not asking you to."
He suddenly scowled. "I know, and it's pissing me off."
I smiled, and this time it was softer, honest, a genuine step forward for me. I crossed to him. Placed my hand on his cheek. Felt the rasp of his five o'clock shadow, the strong line of his jaw. We stood just inches apart, so that I could sense the heat of his body, but nothing more.
He felt like promise, and for one moment, I let myself believe that such things were possible. That I did have a future. That the woman Annabelle Granger had grown up to be had a chance at happiness in her life.
"Do you like barbecues?" I whispered.
I could feel his lips curve against the palm of my hand. "Been known to flip a few burgers in my day."
"Ever dream of white picket fences, two-point-two kids, perhaps an incredibly hyper white dog?"
"My dreams generally include a finished basement, pool table, and plasma-screen TV."
"Fair enough." I pulled my hand away, sighing over the loss of contact, the cool reality that settled in the space between us. "You never know," I said lightly "You never know," he acknowledged.
He exited down the stairs. Bella took it the hardest, whimpering pathetically as I locked the door behind him.
My phone rang. I picked it up.
And a male voice whispered, 'Annabelle."
Chapter 25
BOBBY WOVE HIS way through Boston traffic, grill lights flashing as he worked his way south to Roxbury He had spent longer than he'd intended in Annabelle's apartment. Done more than he'd intended in Annabelle's apartment. Hell, came damn close to behaving like a total ass in Annabelle's apartment.