again. Raising her voice to be heard, she asked, “Justin, what’s going on?”
“We’ll talk when we get into town.”
“What’s wrong with here?”
“I can’t concentrate on you and the road at the same time.”
He thought he caught the beginnings of a smile at that.
“Ever heard of small talk?”
“That’s the last thing I want to engage in with you.” To make his point, he reached for the volume and turned it up another notch. Now there was nothing in the car but the sound of George Strait and a sizzling tension for which there would be no relief.
In town, he parked in front of the Italian restaurant, knowing that it would be virtually empty at this hour, especially with half the folks in town out at White Pines at the wedding reception. The coffee was strong enough to keep them both wide-awake until they’d hashed this mess through from beginning to end.
He led the way to a booth with Patsy trailing along behind, silently fuming. He could practically feel the anger radiating from her. He couldn’t say he blamed her, but he wasn’t exactly dancing with joy tonight himself.
“Two coffees,” he told the waitress in a tone that warned her not to linger.
“Sure, Justin.” She left without asking about the wedding, returned with two cups and a whole pot of coffee, then retreated all the way into the kitchen.
“Look,” Patsy began, scowling at him, “I don’t know what has you in such a snit tonight, but you don’t have any business taking it out on her, or on me, for that matter.”
Justin sighed. “You’re right.”
“Then what’s this all about?”
He looked into her eyes and saw the beginnings of wariness again. “Same old thing,” he said, trying to make light of it.
“You think I’m hiding something.”
“I know you’re hiding something,” he corrected.
She began twisting the napkin she was holding into a tight knot. She looked everywhere in the restaurant except at him. When the napkin shredded, she stared at it in dismay.
“Patsy, please, can’t you tell me the truth after all this time? Maybe I can help.”
The tears welling up in her eyes were almost his undoing. He wanted to take back all the questions. He wanted to promise that he would never pry into her past again, but it was too late for that. If he didn’t, Tate would. It was better if he did it, if the truth was something shared between them, instead of a barrier they could never overcome.
“You can’t,” she whispered finally. “You can’t help.”
“I can try.”
She shook her head. “This isn’t the kind of problem you can fix with a screwdriver or even a hankie,” she said, accepting the one he offered with a rueful smile.
“Neither of us will really know that until you tell me.” He looked directly into her eyes then, willing her to begin at the beginning and tell him everything.
She opened her mouth, about to speak, when his beeper went off. He ignored it, but it went off again and then again.
“Damn,” he muttered. “I’ve got to call the station. I’ll be back in a second.”
Relief washed over her face at the reprieve.
“I will be back, though, and we will finish this conversation,” he vowed as he went toward the pay phone to call the station.
Justin quickly placed a call to the station. “Justin, I’m sorry to call you, but I thought you’d want to know,” the late-night dispatcher said.
“What? Couldn’t it wait until morning?” he asked impatiently.
“There’s been an accident on the highway coming into town from White Pines. It’s Sharon Lynn and Kyle.”
Cold dread settled in the pit of his stomach. “Are they okay?”
“It’s bad, Justin. Real bad. I think you’d better get out there.”
He slammed the phone down and walked slowly back to the table. “I have to go,” he said, his voice cracking on a sob he hadn’t even known was bottled up inside.
Patsy jumped up and followed him. “Justin? What is it? You’re white as a ghost.”
“An accident,” he said. “Sharon Lynn and Kyle.”
All of the color drained out of her face, too. “I’m coming with you.”
“No. There’s no need. I can drop you at your place.”
Her chin shot up. “I’m coming with you,” she repeated. “Are you going to waste time standing here arguing?”
He realized then how desperately he wanted her with him, how very badly he would need her to hang on to if the news was as grim as the dispatcher had made it sound.
“Buckle up, then,” he said grimly as she climbed into the