Saving Amber - Zoe Dawson Page 0,35
caught when he said, “‘No, a hero.’”
Amber nodded. “I understand completely. Did James get along with everyone as far as you know?”
“Yes. He was very outgoing. Well liked.”
Amber knew it was time to go. “I really appreciate you talking to me. I am so sorry for your loss.”
“When can we take him home?” Mrs. Connelly asked, her husband clasping her hand.
“Soon. I will let you know.”
“Find out what happened to our boy,” Mr. Connelly said.
“I will do everything in my power to get you those answers. Here is my card.” She slid the card across the conference room table and rose.
She opened the door, then closed it behind her and leaned against the wall for just a minute. She looked up to find Tristan standing in front of her. His eyes said everything. The door opened and Mr. and Mrs. Connelly came out. Tristan turned to them and she went to walk away, but he touched her arm as she walked by.
“Hello, I’m Tristan Michaels.”
“It’s so good to meet you. James really enjoyed your instruction. Thank you for all that you did for him.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Connelly, I wanted to let you know that James was the best student I’ve ever had in my class. I love everything about teaching what I know to men like your son. He gave more to me than I gave to him. I will always be thankful for that. You should be very proud of him. He was an exemplary student, a fine soldier and an even better man. Thank you for your sacrifice.”
Mrs. Connelly wiped at the tears on her cheeks and squeezed Tristan’s forearm. “Thank you for taking the time to meet us, Sergeant Michaels.”
“Tristan, please.”
She nodded. Mr. Connelly shook Tristan’s hand and then, supporting each other, the Connellys walked down the hall and disappeared around the corner.
Amber didn’t say anything for a moment, caught somewhere between respect and surprise that Tristan had opened himself up to the Connellys. It had been brewing since yesterday when he’d been drinking all alone at the table, broken that glass and then kissed her so…passionately, as if he’d been saving it up his whole life. She wanted to know more about him. Wanted to explore everything there was to know about Tristan Michaels.
But that wasn’t why she was here. She was here to solve this incident, find out what happened to James and give those brave, grieving people some measure of peace.
“Now you want it even more than you did before,” he said softly. His bent head made her want to smooth her hand over his enticing hair.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I want it for them.” She looked back down the hall. Of course, they were gone, but her determination was solid. “What do you know about Randall Mayer?”
“Hardly interacted with the guy. He was always here. Rarely missed a day of work. Did a good job as far as I know.”
“Why do you think he wanted to run me over?”
“Because he had something to hide. He wanted you to stop whatever investigation you were conducting.”
“You think he shot James?”
“I don’t know, but you have to admit that he must have tried to run you over to keep you from finding out about something.”
“Maybe. What I don’t get—and it’s the same question I asked you about James—is why was he up in the mountains? Why didn’t he run? Why did he go back up there?”
“That’s a good question.”
“We didn’t find a weapon, either.”
“No, we didn’t. Maybe if we take a look at his house, we can get more information.”
“I thought you said you weren’t an investigator, Tristan.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re sounding like one.”
“I care what happens with this investigation, Amber. I haven’t cared about something in a long time.”
She wished he could say that about getting involved with her. It was stupid to think that there could be anything long-term with Tristan. Hadn’t she learned her lesson that long-distance relationships were a disaster? Maybe. She should have. But the problem was she hadn’t felt the same way about Pete that she was feeling right now about Tristan.
It was so different. Pete was blond, shorter than Tristan and not as…big…or…broad. With Tristan’s dark hair, aching blue eyes and his big, hard body, Amber was saying…Pete who?
Tristan was trying to resist her, where Pete had jumped in with both feet. She had also gone to bed with him too fast. And, she had to admit that it had probably been mostly physical with Pete.
No surprise there. He’d gone and gotten