That brought her up short. She paused long enough to take several quick breaths. “Notice?”
“Joe told me tonight that he plans to fight my petition in earnest. He’s proclaimed us enemies. We’re no longer—How did you put it? ‘Amicable’? Screw that. It’s gloves off. War officially declared. If that’s the way he wants to play it, fine. But I want to know from you if I’m going to be wasting my time—to say nothing of attorney’s fees—engaging in a battle that I’ve already lost.”
“I’m sure he was just overwrought.”
“Jet jockey Joe? Un-huh. He doesn’t get overwrought.”
“He would today. Mr. Hunt, anything said in the aftermath of what we experienced this afternoon should be tempered—”
“Dammit, I hate that.”
“What?”
“You talking to me like you’re sitting behind a podium, robe zipped up, a goddamn gavel in hand. Tell me straight out, no fancy talk, no legalese. Just one person to another. Were you going to rule in favor of them or me?”
“We’ll discuss it—”
“Now! Now is when we’re going to discuss it. Was I gonna win or lose?”
“I can’t—”
“Tell me!”
“Stop bullying me!”
Her voice cracked on her shout, and it shocked him into silence.
“You weren’t the only one affected today,” she cried out in that same creaky voice. “I’m sorry for your situation. Truly, I am. I’m sorry that my kind, genial, and well-meaning bailiff, who you knew since you were a kid and winked at you, died protecting me. I’m sorry that your mother-in-law can’t stop crying. I’m sorry that I don’t know what prompted that man to do what he did, and if his motive has some connection to me, I’m even sorrier about that.”
She leaned back against the counter and used both fists to wipe tears off her cheeks. Then she opened her hands and stared down at her palms. “I’m also sorry that I can’t stop shaking, and that I seriously considered sleeping with the light on tonight, showing a cowardly streak I didn’t even know I had.”
Choking up entirely, she paused to swallow several times, taking hard gulps of air. “But the man in the mask was horrifying, and it was awful to see Chet die, and—” She covered her face with her hands and began to sob.
“Aw shit,” Crawford muttered. He slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and left her to wallow in several moments of heavy crying. Finally, he said, “Hey. Don’t do that.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Yeah, you can.”
“No I can’t. I was so afraid. Not just for me, but for…for…”
“Come on now, stop crying.”
“—for all of us. He was so—”
“Scary. I know. I was scared, too.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Hell I wasn’t.”
She continued to cry into her hands.
“Try not to think about it anymore, okay?”
She nodded but she didn’t stop weeping.
Removing his hands from his pockets, he pulled a paper napkin from the holder on the dining table. “Here. Wipe your eyes.” She didn’t see the napkin he extended her, so he walked over and gently nudged her arm. “Use this.”
Blindly she groped for the napkin with one hand, then held it against her eyes. But her crying didn’t abate; in fact, the wracking sobs increased.
Uncomfortable with the situation, Crawford shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Come on now. This isn’t helping anything. Get it together.”
“I’m trying. I can’t.”
“Everything’s okay.” He moved a step closer and lightly placed his hands on her shoulders. Patting them, he said, “It’s all right.”
“I know, but—”
“You’re safe. We’re all safe. Hear me? Safe.”
His soothing words must have reached her because a few seconds later, her neck went boneless, and her head dropped forward. She hiccupped into the damp napkin, used it to blot her eyes and wipe her nose, then lowered her hands from her face. “I’m sorry.”
“No problem. Better now?”
She nodded and when she did, her forehead brushed against his chest and then rested there. His hands stilled on her shoulders, then moved to encircle her neck, his fingertips gently kneading the back of it. She set her hands at his waist and leaned into him. A deep inhale caused her whole body to shudder.
“Shh.” He hugged her closer and sent his fingers up into her hair until he was cupping the back of her head in his hand. His other slid down her back and began stroking her spine. On one downward trip, it slid past the small of her back and settled on the curve of her hip. And stayed there.
Suddenly neither of them was breathing.
After what seemed an endless time of absolute stillness, she tilted her head up.
Crawford looked down into her brimming green eyes and thought, Oh fuck.
Chapter 6
Crawford growled into his cell phone, “Yeah?”
“It’s Neal Lester. I need to talk to you.”
Crawford pried open his eyes only wide enough to read the clock on his nightstand and was surprised to see that it was after ten. “About what?”
“Were you asleep?”