When the Heart Lies - By Christina North Page 0,48

pillow she’d thrown back to her and got up. “I’m single. And I’m not exactly broke. I’m getting in the shower. Start listening to the taped audio from today. I’ll be out in a few.”

“But you are filthy.” She batted her lashes, mockingly.

As he turned to leave, he waved her comment away.

Scar turned the feed on, got a Coke, and began listening.

What she was listening to explained Kinsley’s mood yesterday. It wasn’t long before Jackson finished his shower.

As he came from the bathroom, he continued to shimmy the towel over his wet hair before tossing it aside. “Did you hear anything?”

“Yeah. I think you might want to listen to it for yourself.”

“Okay. Back it up.” He sat huddled over on the side of the bed, listening intently with one ear cocked toward the sound as he chewed his bottom lip.

“So, what do you think?” Scar said.

His brows creased, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think it’s a good thing we have audio. Put on the live feed, and we’ll listen to that for a while. There’s obviously more going on than we imagined. I wonder if this is what she’s been going through the last three months. We should’ve started sooner.” He got up, went to the window, and stared out into the sandy parking lot, leaning the bulk of his weight against the frame. His stomach flip-flopped. He’d have an ulcer by the end of this case. That, and a broken heart. More discouraged than ever, he turned away from the window, went to sit across from Scar, and continued listening to the feed.

He dug a roll of Tums from his pocket, popped one into his mouth, listened to some more, and popped another. Wayde’s promise to ‘take care of her’ troubled him. Maybe Pierce keeping her one more day would’ve given him the time he needed to make a deeper connection and convince her to get back home. He had handled everything wrong. Pierce had been right; if anything had happened to her, it would have been on his head. Second-guessing himself wasn’t going to help, though, so he moved on to more forward thinking, considering ways he might be able to reconnect.

“How long do you think she’ll stay?” Scar asked.

“I’m not sure. Not very long, I hope. I’ll miss her if she does leave.” He hadn’t meant to say the last of his thoughts aloud.

“Jesus, I’ve never seen you like this with anyone. Are you in love with her? She’s married.”

He hung his head back and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know.” He knew there was nothing he could do to stop thinking of her. He felt different with her. It wasn’t some game of seduction between two people filling time. This was real.

“Jackson, you said she wants to go home. What are you thinking?”

He moved from the window and fiddled with the equipment, unable to remember a time in his adult life when he’d felt so unnerved. “Look, let’s drop it.”

Scar raised her hands delivering a virtual apology. “Okay. Enough said. Can I watch TV while you listen?”

“As long as I can hear.” His phone rang, and he signaled to Scar to cut the feed. When he looked at the caller ID, he grimaced and swiped the cell from the table. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi, it’s me, Olivia. How’s everything over at the house?”

“Kinda quiet right now. I’ll call Xavier when I get something.”

“How about going to dinner?”

He cast his eyes over the room as his hand raked through his hair, landing on the nape of his neck, massaging deeply. “Already had dinner. I should probably stay here anyway.”

“Drinks? You can listen to the feed later. You don’t have to listen every minute.”

“I’m kind of tired.” He lied, but it was best to not to lead her on.

“Okay, your loss.”

The phone went dead.

He grabbed a beer and turned the feed back on. With the first words from Wayde’s mouth, he cringed. Kinsley meant every word when she said she was in a bad place. Just how bad, she hadn’t said.

He drove over to Wayde’s and listened to the portable feed in his inconspicuous old Ram pick-up, parking in a part of the grove that was unseen from the house. If trouble started, he wanted to be close, or even better, on the doorstep. After a couple hours, he slammed the steering wheel. The goddamn music they always had on was getting to him. Anything could be going on inside. He returned to the

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