She glanced guiltily toward the living room.
Crawford said, “You let what Neal said get to you.”
“He isn’t stupid. He knew we didn’t have to conduct our conversation about Rodriguez in a parked car.”
“Nothing we told him was a lie, Holly.”
“No, but in terms of spin, it was a Tilt-a-Whirl. He thinks—”
“Doesn’t matter what he thinks.”
“It does if he thinks we’ve slept together!”
“We haven’t.”
She gave him a withering look. “Your language is just more vulgar than mine.”
“And much more accurate.”
Whatever you wanted to call what they’d done, he was ready for an encore, which said a lot about his character. Neal’s crude remark had pissed him off, but mostly because it came so close to being the truth. He wanted under her skirt, and he wanted her under him.
She was all buttoned up again in her judge’s clothes, proper suit and blouse, but he remembered the feel of the comfy t-shirt she’d been wearing last night, how crushable the fabric had been when he took a handful of it and pushed it out of his way. The skin of her inner thighs had been even softer than the cloth, and between them, softer yet.
“I’m hungry,” he grumbled as he stepped around her and moved toward the refrigerator. “Do you have anything to eat?”
“Help yourself.”
He inventoried the contents of the fridge and found deli ham and sliced cheese in a drawer. He set them out on the counter. By the time he’d chosen the condiments he preferred, she’d taken a loaf of bread from the pantry.
“Make a sandwich for yourself,” he said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat anyway. Plates?”
She indicated the cabinet where he could find them, then listlessly removed two slices of bread from the wrapper and stacked them on the plate he slid along the counter toward her. “You should leave before Marilyn arrives.”
“We’ve exhausted all the reasons why you should have someone with you.” He slapped a slice of ham onto the bread and slathered it with mustard.
“But it looks like—”
“What?” He stopped trying to wrestle a slice of Swiss cheese out of the package and turned toward her. “What does it look like, Holly? Like I’m trying my damnedest to keep my hands off you? To keep from thinking about it? To cancel it? Like that’s gonna happen,” he scoffed. “But is that what this looks like? Because that’s what I’m doing. The other thing I’m doing is trying to protect you from a guy who wants you dead.” He stopped, took a breath. “Now, for the last time, I’m here because you shouldn’t be alone.”
“I shouldn’t be alone with you.”
“Too bad. You are.”
“Someone else could have been sent to guard me.”
“They’re being sent. In the meantime, I was readily available.”
“Because you—”
“Because I don’t want another dead woman on my conscience!”
Chapter 13
His shouted statement left them in a sudden and tense silence. They continued looking at each other for several seconds, then, cursing under his breath, Crawford turned away and finished building his sandwich.
Holly made one for herself and carried her plate to the table. He waited until she was seated before sitting down across from her, then hungrily tucked in.
She picked at the crust of bread. “You’re referring to Beth.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Besides, you know everything. It’s in my ‘file.’”
“I know that she died in a car crash, a terrible accident.”
Placing his elbows on the table, he bent over his plate and muttered, “Officially.”
“You disagree with that ruling?”
“My father-in-law does. He’ll tell you what he thinks about Beth’s accident. Ask him.” Raising he head, he looked across at her, his eyes cold and hard. “Or have you already?”
“Not specifically.”
“Well, save your breath. I can tell you, he blames me.”
“According to the accident report, Beth was doing over eighty miles an hour. The car spun out of control and hit a utility pole.”
His eyes lost focus and seemed to be looking at the gruesome scene. “I was told she died on impact. I guess that’s something.”
Speaking barely above a whisper, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“Georgia was spared.”
“She didn’t have a scratch. A miracle, really.”
Holly asked, “What part of the police report do you dispute?”
“None of it. But there’s more to an accident than the physics of the collision. There’s the human factor, and in this instance, it was huge.”
Yes, there had been extenuating circumstances surrounding the deadly crash. Holly knew what they were, but she wanted to hear what he had to say about them.
He ate the last bite of his sandwich, washed it down with a swallow from his bottle of water, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. When the silence between them stretched out, he gave her a surly look. “What?”
“Talk to me about it.”
“Why?”
“Is it too painful for you to talk about?”