Wasn’t that the whole problem? Without Megan on their side, Lindsey had little to offer. Megan hadn’t managed to kill her, but she’d well and truly fucked her and Todd. “I have the evidence I gathered about the money laundering, but I can’t prove Meg was willingly involved, or tie anything back to the sheriff directly. Maybe a forensic investigator with a warrant…” She glanced at Marti, who frowned back. “For the rest, I was hoping that your CSI people or whatever could tell how the deputy really died, and determine how things went down at the cabins.”
Wendy glanced at Special Agent Ahmad. “I have some bad news on that front.”
Dread coiled in Lindsey’s belly like a snake. “What?”
“Someone set fire to the compound last night.”
Around lunchtime, an agent who never bothered to introduce himself to Todd retrieved him from the interrogation room, let him make two coffees in the break room, and led him to a conference room.
Inside, Lindsey stood at the window, looking out over the city of Helena and the trees trimmed in fall colors. She was so beautiful, so strong, and he hadn’t expected to see her again.
She turned to look at him, her gorgeous eyes wide, and in that moment, he couldn’t deny it. All those wild feelings? That painful freefall his heart had been in since practically the moment they’d met?
He was in love.
He wanted to kneel at her feet and tell her he’d changed his mind, that he’d been a fool. That he’d do whatever it took to have her in his life.
It was irrational and inconvenient, and probably pointless under the circumstances—nothing had changed since last night—but absolutely undeniable.
Fuck. How had that happened?
Stuffing the unwelcome realization into a footlocker in his mind, he entered the room and set the steaming paper cups on the table. “I brought you a coffee.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as the agent left them alone, Todd crossed the room, eager to hold her, to reassure himself that she was whole and unharmed. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and crossed her arms, shifting away from him. “Neither of us has been arrested yet, so that’s a win.”
He frowned. “What’s the matter?”
“Besides the obvious?” She sidled past him and took a coffee from the table, wrapping both hands around the cup. “Last night you told me in unequivocal terms that our relationship was over, that we couldn’t even be friends.”
Damn his big mouth. “Maybe I was wrong.”
“No. You can’t yank me around like that. Nothing has changed.”
She was right. He didn’t want to hurt her more than he already had. And now was not the time to try to repair the damage.
“Where’s Marti?” she asked.
“She had to go to the office, but we’re not supposed to answer any questions without her.”
“Any idea what’s happening?” Lindsey took a sip of coffee and winced. “Why are we in here?”
“Wendy said they needed the interrogation rooms, and since we’re in a heavily guarded federal building, I guess she’s not worried about us doing a runner.”
They sat in tense silence while Lindsey toyed with the cardboard sleeve on her cup.
How could he regain her trust? Words were cheap. Actions were what mattered. Which meant he needed time.
And patience.
He snorted. Not his strong suit.
Sure, he could sit surveillance or stand guard for endless hours, but that wasn’t the same as wanting something more than you’d ever wanted anything in your life and having to wait for it. He’d always been the first one up on Christmas morning, banging on his mom’s and brothers’ doors and yelling, “Present time!” Yeah, he’d been an impatient little shit.
Probably still was, just taller.
Restless, but also ready to sleep for a week, he snagged a pad of notepaper and a pen from the center of the table and began doodling. Without thought, an image of Lindsey began to emerge. The curve of her chin, the curl of her hair, her warm expressive eyes.
Something in his chest pinched, and he flipped to a blank sheet. The last thing he needed was for her to see him sketching her like some kind of obsessed stalker.
After lunch brought in from a local deli, and another hour of scanning through old issues of Foreign Affairs that one of the agents had scrounged from somewhere, Wendy walked through the door.
“Okay, y’all, I have some news.”
Todd’s heart skipped. “Good news?”
“Mostly.” She almost smiled. “We managed to round up the sheriff and some of his collaborators, including the guy whose truck you stowed away in. A couple of them are