"I think I do, actually. I think we need to look someplace else." Leif raised one eyebrow. "Would you still think that if I told you that they have a nephew who is a paintball enthusiast?"
The news made Nic raise her head, like a dog catching a scent. Paintballers used smoke grenades. Was she going soft, getting distracted? Why was she making decisions based on emotions and not facts? "Knowing that, I'm going to have to reserve judgment. Has anyone questioned the nephew yet?"
"It's happening as we speak." He shot her an amused look. "You're second-guessing yourself now, aren't you?"
His crooked grin made her stomach do a slow flip.
"If it makes you feel any better, I think you're right. I think those two were telling the truth. They wouldn't risk losing their grandson."
What was she thinking, continually letting this guy slip past her guard? Nic kept herself to herself for a reason. In a careful voice she said, "I don't think I've had a chance to thank you for tracking me down during the gas leak."
"Well, that hug you gave me was a good start."
Heat flooded her face. "That's the thing, Leif. I shouldn't have done that. And going out to breakfast with you a couple of weeks ago was ... Well, I don't want to say it was a mistake, but I think it sent the wrong message."
"Wait a minute. This isn't going to be one of those 'Let's just be friends' speeches, is it? Because A, you already gave it to me. And B, I already am your friend. At least I like to think I'm your work friend. But Nic, I can't lie to you--I want to be more. I want to be your friend outside of work too. And I even want to be more than that. I won't deny it. But if all you feel comfortable with is friendship, that's fine. And if you don't want either of those things, if you just want me to be your coworker and that's all, then I'll accept that."
Leif raised an eyebrow, and she guessed that it cost him to keep it light. "And I won't even let you know how much you are missing:'
"What if I don't know what I want?" Nic said softly. Those weren't the words she had intended to say, but they came out anyway. "What if some days I want one thing, but the next I want something different?"
He lifted his hand from the emergency brake, gave her left hand a brief squeeze, then let go. "All I can tell you, Nic, is that whatever you want, whatever you're ready for, whenever you're ready, I'll be here:'
Chapter 30
Keller Auditorium Friday, February 10
Jim Fate's funeral was held at the Keller Auditorium, only a few blocks from KNWS. Every one of the nearly three thousand seats was filled. As in so much of her life, Cassidy was present in two capacities: as a participant and as a reporter. She was expected to write a story about the funeral as soon as it was over. Andy, along with dozens of other cameramen from media outlets all over the country, was relegated to the balcony.
Eric had told her that more than half of the "Heavy Hundred"--a list of the top American talk show hosts ranked by Talkers Magazine--were expected to be in attendance. As she walked into the lobby, Cassidy saw a few famous faces, but thanks to the nature of radio, many of the attendees were anonymous enough that only their bodyguards and the outlines of bulletproof vests under their dark suits gave them away. Making up the bulk of the crowd were hundreds of people who, Cassidy guessed, were just fans of Jim. Although he would never have used the word "just" to describe them.
Entering the auditorium, Cassidy caught sight of the gleaming mahogany coffin onstage. It was hard to imagine that Jim was in that wooden box. How could someone so much larger than life be in there?
The thought made her feel panicky, and she pushed it away. She would definitely need Jim's Somulex tonight. To the left of the coffin was a podium, and to the right was a string quartet. While she could see them moving their bows over their instruments, the crowd made too much noise for her to hear them.
Was Jim's killer somewhere in the auditorium, mingling with the others drawn here for their own reasons? Cassidy knew that police would be photographing license plates and videotaping people as they walked through the doors.
She waved at Allison on the far side of the room. As she looked for a scat, she saw Nicole sitting toward the back and gave her a smile. Nicole answered with a single nod. Does that woman ever loosen up? Cassidy wondered. Sometimes when she was with Nicole, especially on the rare occasions when Allison wasn't around, Cassidy was painfully aware that she was just too much--too talkative, too disorganized, too loud. Next to Nicole's dark pantsuits, even her clothes seemed too bright.
Cassidy plopped her much-maligned tote into one of two empty seats. But eventually a woman stood in front of the seat and glared at Cassidy until she was forced to set the tote on top of her feet. If you need a tissue, Cassidy thought, don't look at me. She got more glares from the woman when she pulled out her notebook and began to take notes.