in under other people’s defenses. She didn’t like having the tables turned.
She halted at the dining room door. In the sun-filled kitchen, he stood with his back to her, accepting a cup of coffee from Lillian.
He wore a lightweight navy-blue sport coat and creased khaki slacks, with classic penny loafers. His dark hair teased the collar of his shirt. As he reached to take the coffee, the subtle movement of his shoulders inside the jacket drew her eye. They were broad shoulders, strong shoulders. They looked as if they could carry a heavy burden with ease.
Sunny swallowed the lump of fear and loneliness that briefly clogged her throat. She took a deep breath, lifted her chin and walked into the kitchen.
“Here she is,” Lillian said. “Darling, do you want coffee?”
Agent Stone turned, and Sunny saw his eyes in full light for the first time. She suppressed a gasp. They were a deep blue-violet, possibly the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. Surrounded by black lashes and topped by straight dark brows, they softened his strong, harshly planed face.
“Um, yes, thanks, Lil. I’d like some.”
She sat at the kitchen table, gesturing for the agent to sit too, but he waited until Lillian had poured one more cup of coffee.
After Lillian set the cup in front of her, she touched Sunny on the shoulder. “I’m going home for a while. I have laundry to do and some other chores. The officer up front can answer the phone.” Lillian briefly glanced toward Griff. “Unless you need me here?”
Sunny shook her head. “No. I’m fine.”
Lillian’s hand cupped Sunny’s chin. “I hope you gave some thought to what I said yesterday. It would be so much easier for you.” Lillian kissed her cheek. “Nice to meet you, Agent Stone.”
“Call me Griff, ma’am.” Griff nodded at her. “Good to meet you, too.”
Lillian smiled warmly at him. “Griff,” she said.
After Lillian left, he pulled out a chair and sat across from Sunny. “So here we are again, on opposite sides of the table.”
His voice was distressingly cheerful.
She rubbed her temple, then sipped her coffee, grimacing at its bitter taste. Everything tasted like ashes, and would, she knew, until Emily was back home with her.
“You said you had information relevant to my daughter’s case?” she asked coldly.
He pulled a torn piece of lined notepaper from his pocket.
Sunny almost dropped her cup. It clattered against the wooden tabletop.
“Wh-where did you get that?” she stammered, terror streaking through her.
“From a car windshield in the precinct parking lot. You have one just like it. I watched you pick it up yesterday afternoon.”
Adrenaline sizzled through her veins. Her pulse jackhammered. She’d known he was watching her, even though she’d tried to deny it. She’d felt his burning stare.
He held the piece of paper between two fingers, as if taunting her with it. She met his gaze briefly, but her eyes kept going back to the paper. What did the other notes have on them? It hadn’t occurred to her to wonder that until now.
“Is it a flyer?”
“You know it’s not.” He spread the sheet out in front of her. It was blank. “Turn it over.”
His voice held a command she couldn’t refuse. She reached out with a hand that shook, and nudged the paper over. Her breath caught. “There’s nothing on it.”
Relief and fear collided in her chest. Relief that he didn’t know her sheet was not blank, and fear that he was about to somehow trick her into admitting she’d gotten another note.
She wiped her hand with her napkin and waited, looking down at her cup, dreading his next words.
“But there was writing on yours, wasn’t there? I saw how you reacted. I watched you read it. Show me the note, Ms. Loveless.”
She reached for her cup, trying for casual, but her hand shook so much she gave up the effort and balled it into a fist.
He surprised her by leaning forward and covering her hand with his. His skin was warm, his fingers hard and strong, like the rest of him, like his name.
His hand was much larger than hers, but it looked graceful and competent. She had no doubt he could break a neck or hold a baby with equal care and skill.
Her vision grew hazy as she imagined letting him take the burden from her shoulders. He might be cool and just-the-facts, but he exuded a confidence Sunny craved.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she whispered. She bit her tongue so the answers he sought wouldn’t slip out.