Evie tucked deep inside his wallet.
It was disconcerting, to say the least, to wake next to a fully dressed man after bedding down with a naked one for the night. All that was missing was his wedding ring and driver’s license . . . and he swore on his second life that he’d had both on him when he died.
“I know, but this one’s special.” She touched a button along the brim’s edge and a red light appeared, accompanied by a high-pitched chirp. “They normally fashion them in baseball caps and cowboy hats, but I had this one custom-ordered in a stingy brim. You like?”
Grif frowned. “Why is it beeping?”
Now a full smile bloomed. “Because it has a built-in compass. You program your desired coordinates, and the closer you get, the louder and more quickly it beeps.”
Grif stared at her. “You want me to wear a hat that beeps?”
Kit folded her arms. “Is this a guy thing? Like asking for directions when you’re driving?”
“It’s a hat. That. Beeps.”
Sighing, Kit reached out and took the fedora from his hands, then plunked it atop his head. “Just wear it. It’ll give you peace of mind.”
“That I’ll find my way easily to my Takes?”
“No.” Her hand lowered to caress the stubble of his cheek, and she tilted her head up. “That you’ll find your way back to me when you’re done.”
And Grif slipped his arms around her, kissed her forehead, and inhaled deeply as he buried his face in her hair. That’s how she knew their argument was over. “I love your passion, Kitty-Cat. I love how you can feel so much for a total stranger. It makes you a good reporter and a damned fine woman. And it makes me better at what I do, too.”
She looked up at him.
Grif shrugged self-consciously. “It does. It helps me remember what it was to be alive and dying. Do this job long enough and you can get numb to the emotion of both. But you don’t allow me to do that. Not anymore anyway.”
“I love your passion, too,” she said, lifting to her toes.
“It revolves around you,” he said, returning her kiss. When it began to deepen, he pulled away and rolled his eyes upward. “So. Is this thing waterproof?”
Kit frowned, surprised. “I don’t think so. Why?”
He lifted her hand, their fingers intertwining. “I still gotta find my way to that shower.”
A smile began to creep across Kit’s face. “I think I can help with that.”
“Can ya?” Grif asked and, drawing close, whispered, “Beep.”
“Beep, beep,” Kit replied, and—fully smiling now—led the way back into the bedroom.
Chapter Three
Kit let it go. Or pretended to. She’d seen in the kitchen that Grif’s mind was made up, and there was no point in trying to convince him to stop Jeap Yang’s death. Not once he’d worked himself up to this level of stubbornness.
So instead, she joined him for a long shower—a surefire way to relax him—a return trip to her beautiful vintage bed—ditto—and a restful nap allowing him to gear up for the day’s early start. Grif needed respite from the demands of his celestial superiors.
And Kit needed him unconscious while she made her getaway.
Back in the kitchen, Kit keyed Jeap Yang’s address into the maps app on her phone, then took a moment to study the black-and-white candid staring up at her from the folds of the paper. Grif was right, of course. Jeap had set himself down this path the first time he shot up, and whatever reasons he had, as painful and excusable as they might be, it had been his choice.
But just leaving him to die was wrong, Kit thought, rubbing at her chest, just over her heart, which felt swollen and ached. If he were her son or brother or loved one, Kit would want someone to help him, and she was the only one with this information.
And, like Jeap, she had a choice.
She left the paper with Jeap’s information where it was, because Grif would need it upon waking, and exited through the front door, since the alarm was already silenced. Outside, her thoughts sounded loud and dangerous in her mind, a stark contrast to the predawn stillness of the house. Intuition told her this wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had, and she also knew she’d be in for it when Grif woke to find her gone.
He has wings, Kit thought defiantly, starting her car and slipping from the driveway as quietly as she could. He was using them to