Identity

“Knock it off. You’re going kayaking on Sunday.”

Eyes slitted, she slammed the water bottle down again. “Does he tell you everything?”

“No. And I don’t want to know everything. But there’s a goddamn code, Nell. A friend’s dating your sister, he lets you know. It would’ve been nice if my sister let me know she was dating my friend.”

“He’s my friend, too, and it was dinner. Just dinner. If I decide it’s going to be more, that’s my choice and my business. So butt out.”

Now he sat. “I had one date—one—with that … I can’t remember her name. That girl who was part of your high school pack.”

“Candy.”

“Yeah, and the name should’ve put me off. But anyway, one date and you snarled at me for weeks.”

“I’ve matured. How about you?”

“I love you.”

“Back at you, moron.”

“I love Jake.”

“Jesus, Miles, I’m not going to drag him into bed, use him up, then toss him away. Or vice versa. You should know both of us better.”

“Don’t talk about bed.”

Temper dissolved into amusement. “I’m going to sleep with him. There may or may not be a bed involved.”

“Please shut up.”

“If,” she added, “we decide to have another date or two, and if we’re both of that frame of mind. Meanwhile, I’ve gotten to be friends—outside of work—with Morgan. It’s hard for me to find—or make—time to have friends outside of work and family. But we’ve had lunch, and we had drinks. You could almost say we’re dating.”

Now he just covered his face with his hands, scrubbed hard.

“You’re sleeping with her. Should I be worried?”

“Nell—”

“Miles,” she said in the same overly patient tone. “You and I don’t take or make relationships lightly. And though it falls in that same category—None of Your Damn Business—I’ll tell you I’ve had half a thing for Jake for a while.”

“Well, hell. You never said.”

“Remember the heading,” she shot back. “I’m also going to say that seeing what Morgan’s been through, how she’s dealt with it, brought it home to me how quick life and plans can change. If Jake hadn’t asked me out, I’d have asked him. I want to see where it goes. You’ll just have to live with that.”

“I’m going back to not thinking about it.”

“That would be very wise.”

“Morgan.” He got up to grab a Coke out of her cooler. “I was just over there.”

“Notice me not asking you what you were doing over there in the middle of a workday.”

“I’m having one of those camera systems installed on the house.”

“Ah.” She considered, nodded. “That’s a very good idea.”

“She doesn’t like it, but she’ll deal with it. She’d just gotten an update on Rozwell right before I got there. I’m going to give you the highlights, then I have to get going. I’m way behind today. You could fill in the rest of the family.”

“All right.”

She took notes while he told her.

“I’m meeting with Mom in … shit, five minutes. I’ll tell her. Look, let’s grab dinner later, talk this through. You told Jake.”

“Yeah, which is how … all the rest. I’m late.”

“Me, too.” They rose together.

“Hey.” Anger forgotten, she crossed over to hug him. “Don’t worry too much. The more I get to know her, the more I realize how self-reliant she is. Then add she has us, the FBI, and the local police on her side.”

“A rabid dog with a human brain. That’s what Jake called him.”

“That sounds accurate.”

And something, Miles thought, to worry about.





Chapter Twenty-three



Every time Morgan thought she’d found the sweet spot in her workout routine, Jen devised some new form of torture.

Today’s pyramid of dead lifts, kickbacks, military presses, and biceps curls in the goddess position ranked as the worst yet.

She sweated her way to the top of the pyramid, indulged her inner camel in a thirty-second—all Jen allowed—water break, then did her best not to weep her way down again.

Getting strong, she lectured herself. Getting strong enough to punch Rozwell in the throat. And after the last vicious rep, she set down the weights.

But did it end there? No, it did not.

She suffered through twelve agonizing minutes of core with crunches, bicycles, the detested inchworm, and more until her abs burned along with the rest of her.

Breathless, limp, done, she lay on the mat, eyes closed. “When will I stop hating it?”

Helpfully, Jen tossed her a gym towel. “Why are you doing it?”

Behind her lids, Morgan’s eyes rolled. “To get strong, be strong, stay strong.”

“And it’s working. You’ve doubled your weights and reps since you started. Packing some nice guns these days.”

Morgan turned her head, opened one eye. With it she studied her arms. “Sort of.”

“Very nice guns for your frame and body type. Now hydrate and stretch.” Smiling, Jen held out a hand. “Body by Jen. I’m liking what I see here.”

Morgan clasped hands, groaned her way to her feet. “This body by Jen feels like it’s been pounded with a thousand tiny hammers.”

“Hydrate and stretch,” Jen repeated, “and it won’t. You’ve come a long way. Keep it up. Hey, Nell.”

“Jen. I’ve got a free hour.”

“And the world shudders on its axis.”

“I know, right?” In her black shorts and tank, Nell grabbed a pair of fifteen-pound weights. “I’m squeezing in some fun.”

She took her stance, started with a swimmer’s press, and sent Morgan a look. “You look like you’ve finished the fun.”

“I’m done. Done in. She’s a monster.”

“I wear the badge with pride. Stretch,” Jen said again, her beaded braids swaying as she walked away to find another victim.

Morgan started her stretches and scowled at Nell in the mirror wall. “Show-off.”

“A badge I wear with pride. I was hoping to run into you before your shift. Mom just told me the Friedman event, that’s Sunday, wants another bar.”

“They already have two.”

“And now they want three. One for mixed drinks, and instead of the second for wine, beer, and soft drinks, they want to split that. One soft bar, one wine and beer bar.”

“I’ll ask Bailey to take it.”

Smoothly, Nell switched to Crazy Eights. “Is she ready?”

“More than for a wine and beer bar. It’s a good way for her to solo at an event. I’ll let you know. If she can’t take it, I’ll see if Nick wants it, or can switch shifts with me and I’ll take it. Becs has her Friday night art class, and I wouldn’t ask her to miss it unless we’re stuck. Tricia’s on vacation until Saturday.”

“I’ll leave it to you. How are you?”

With her hands clasped behind her back, Morgan drew them down and let out a sound that signaled relief. “I think my bones are burning.”

“Keep stretching, and that’s not what I meant.”