Final Words (13 page)

“Just having you listen to me without thinking I’m crazy
helps a lot.” She hesitated. “You don’t think I’m crazy, do you, Dad? Like Aunt
Victoria?”

“No, Punkin. I don’t think you’re crazy. And I’m beginning
to realize I might have misjudged Aunt Victoria.” He paused. “Do you want your
mother and me to come to Clear Harbor?”

“No, I have to learn to deal with this on my own.” She
smiled. “And I do feel better now so I should get back to work.”

“Call us if you need anything. I love you, Punkin.”

“I love you, Dad. ’Bye.” She hung up the phone and then
jumped when Skitch poked his head around the frame of her door.

“Sorry.” He frowned, his eyes gleaming strangely. “I didn’t
mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay.” Wondering if he’d heard her conversation, she
tried to diagnose the expression she saw in his eyes. It looked almost like
fear. “What do you need?”

“I wanted to tell you the latest on that guy with the
lipstick on his head,” he slowly explained. “When the cops told her about his
lab results, his wife confessed that she’d put rat poison in his beer every
night for a month. She studied up on how much time it would take for the poison
to reach a lethal amount in his body.”

“I’m glad to know I was right,” Emma replied.

“You’re right a lot lately.” The gleam in his eyes
brightened. “It’s almost as if you’ve gone psychic on us, Doc.”

“I’m not psychic.” Emma dropped her gaze to the report on
her desk. “The clues are all there, Skitch. You just have to look for them.”

A long moment passed before he quietly said, “I guess I have
to look a little harder.” He backed away from the door. “Well, gotta run.”

Emma listened to his footsteps striding down the hall.

Psychic. If only that was all it was.

* * * * *

“And what about Ty’s case?” Jason ran his index finger up
and down the warming bottle of beer he hadn’t wanted. He’d only joined Charlie
at the Diamond Bar after work because he’d grown tired of sitting at home alone
with his thoughts. When he was by himself, he spent way too much time thinking
about Emma. “Hosken hasn’t done a damn thing since he took over the
investigation.”

“He’s hitting the same blank walls we hit. Give him time.
Uh-oh.” Leaning over from his barstool, Charlie tugged on Jason’s sleeve. “Trouble
coming in the door.”

Jason glanced up as Layne Simmons entered the bar. As the
door swung shut behind her, she pulled off her sunglasses as slowly as if they
were the straps of a lacy bra. Her gaze roamed the room and Jason groaned
inwardly when she spotted him. The terms under which they’d parted a few nights
earlier should have earned him a cold shoulder. Instead she smiled as if their
argument had never happened.

“Hi, guys.” Reaching them, she leaned one elbow on the
scarred surface of the bar. “How’s it hangin’?”

Charlie nodded. “Detective Simmons.”

Jason watched her warily. “Layne,” he said quietly.

Layne signaled the bartender. “Bourbon and Coke.”

Charlie clapped Jason on the shoulder. “I’m going home,” he
said.

Before Jason could stop him, Charlie gave another nod to
Layne and then headed out the door.

“You’ve been a hard man to track down.”

Touching her tongue to her lips, Layne leaned toward Jason.
Even inside a place that reeked with it, he could smell the liquor on her
breath and she hadn’t even gotten her drink yet.

“How about I take you to dinner tonight?” she suggested.

Once more Jason found himself mentally comparing Layne to
Emma. “Sorry,” he said, trying to keep the distaste out of his voice. “I’m tied
up tonight.”

“Undercover work?” She touched his thigh. “Or under-
the
-cover
work?”

Jason pushed aside his half-full beer glass. Standing up, he
dug his wallet out of his hip pocket. “I have to go.”

Layne’s bloodshot eyes glared as she poked an index finger
into his breastbone. “Don’t think I don’t know who you’d rather be playing
with. I’ve heard about your interest in that lady coroner and I think it’s
sick!”

Jason tossed several bills onto the bar and gestured toward
the bartender. “I’ve got her drink too. But just the one.”

Layne grabbed his arm. “Disgusting, that’s what it is!”

Jason looked down at her. “Let go, Layne.”

She tried to hold his gaze but was too drunk. Snatching her
hand away, she whipped around and lurched toward the door. Jason followed and
watched from the doorway as she stumbled outside and hailed a cab. It was a
shame. She was a decent cop and he hoped the booze didn’t get in the way of her
work the way it got in the way of her personality.

He waited for her to get into the cab and then he stepped
outside and started toward the parking lot down the street.

Another cab pulled in as Layne’s sped away. Jason recognized
the man stepping out of it as the man who’d escorted Emma at the Marquis
Restaurant. Alan Winfeld. Her ex-husband. But the woman who exited the cab
behind him wasn’t Emma.

Turning, Jason ducked his head enough that he could watch
the couple’s reflection in the bar window without being noticed. Arm around the
woman, laughing loudly, Winfeld didn’t act like a man who wanted to reconcile
with his ex-wife. Kissing his companion on the lips, he led her inside the bar.

Turning his back to the window, Jason stared at the passing
traffic and wondered if he should tell Emma what he’d seen. She deserved to
know that her ex-husband was not sitting alone somewhere pining for her. Maybe
if she saw the truth for herself, she would reconsider trying to make her
marriage work again.

His heart was at stake here. He knew that. But in spite of
the questions surrounding her, he wanted Emma in his life. But did he have the
right to meddle in
her
life?

Setting his jaw again, he headed up the street to where he’d
left his car.

* * * * *

Emma pushed the latest lab report away and glanced at her
watch. Eight-thirty. It was later than she’d realized and she still had a stack
of reports to review. But her eyes ached and a yawn rolled through her every
few minutes.

“I need coffee,” she murmured.

Knowing she might find a fresh pot in the second-floor break
room, she grabbed her mug and headed for the elevator.

Most evenings, the Medical Examiner’s office stayed busy
well after dark. But on the occasional Friday, the place shut down early, with
the understanding of all the staff that they could be called back once all the
bars closed for the night. This looked like one of those early Fridays.

“Quiet as a morgue,” Emma murmured as she passed one empty
office after another. There wasn’t a soul in sight.

That doesn’t mean there aren’t any souls around, she
thought. At the end of the corridor, the door to the elevator stood open.

As if it’s waiting for me, she thought. A shiver ran from
the top of her spine to her tailbone.

Clutching her mug to her chest, she entered the elevator and
pushed the second-floor button. Machinery pinged and whirred to life and the
car began to descend. Seconds later, it slid to a smooth halt, pinged again and
the doors opened.

As Emma stepped out, she saw that the labs along the main
corridor were as dark as the offices on the third floor. Only security lights
glowed here and there.

Behind her, the elevator’s machinery went abruptly silent.
Suddenly, the building
felt
empty. And yet…not.

Gripping her mug tightly, she headed for the break room.
Inside, she turned on the lights. Spying the coffee maker on a back counter,
she crossed to it and picked up the pot. Empty.

Annoyed, she yanked open an upper cabinet and then squealed
as something flew at her. Dark, cold and slightly sticky, it struck her right
cheek before falling to the floor with a splat.

Emma took a deep breath and tried to laugh at herself. Her
assailant was a foil coffee packet that had fallen off a shelf.

Setting her mug on the counter, she knelt to pick up the
packet. As she straightened, she glimpsed movement behind her. Whipping around,
she gasped as a male figure loomed in the doorway.

“It’s okay.” Jason raised his hands. “It’s just me.”

Leaning back against the counter, Emma tried to catch her
breath. Again.

“Sorry.” Smiling tentatively, Jason closed the distance
between them. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

As Emma’s heartbeat steadied, anger surged through her
fright. She was mad at herself for her skittishness but took it out on him. “How
did you get up here without a card key?”

“The security guard and I are old buddies. When I told him I
was looking for you, he gave me a temporary card.”

Emma crumpled the coffee packet. “How did you know I was on
this floor?”

“You weren’t in your office but your computer was on, your
purse was under your desk and your coffee mug was missing. I am a detective,
you know.” When she didn’t laugh, worry darkened his eyes. “I really scared
you, didn’t I?”

“I thought I was alone.” Exasperated, Emma turned her back
on him. Gripping the packet in both hands, she tore it open. The fragile foil
ripped and coffee granules flew everywhere.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Neither of them
spoke. Emma stared at the mess she’d made, feeling Jason’s attention focused on
her, knowing that he had to think that she was as unstable as she felt.

“I really needed that coffee,” she murmured.

Gripping her right arm, Jason eased her away from the mess. “Tell
me where a broom is and I’ll clean this up. Then I’ll
buy
you that cup
of coffee. It’s the least I can do.”

Emma pointed toward a tall, narrow cabinet nearby. Walking
over to it, Jason opened the door, got the broom and dustpan and set to work.
She stood still, watching the broom move as he swept the dark grains into a
tidy mound. Bending over, he scooped the debris into a dustpan with two more
easy strokes. In spite of her fright, anger and frustration, Emma’s gaze
shifted. Instinctively. She blushed when she realized her gaze had focused on
his trim backside. The man filled out a pair of jeans awfully well. She looked
away quickly when he straightened and glanced around.

“I don’t see a garbage can,” he said.

Embarrassment surged through her, heating her skin and she
wondered why he always caught her at moments of weakness. Why did he always
show up at her most vulnerable times? Above all why couldn’t she control her
growing attraction to him?

“Emma? The garbage can?”

“Under the counter.” With difficulty, she got a grip on her
emotions. “I have to sterilize the area. The labs are just down the hall and we
don’t want any cross-contamination.” But her legs didn’t want to move and her
arms weighed like lead. Her pulse seemed to skip every few beats, leaving her
breathless and lightheaded. Still, she managed to turn and walk to the cabinet
that housed the cleaning supplies.

“Anything else I can do?” he asked, returning the broom and
dust pan to their own storage cabinet.

“No. Thanks.” She picked out what she needed, taking her
time, hoping to recover more of her composure before facing him again. But the
silence between them grew thicker. Taking a deep breath as she disinfected the
counter, she asked over her shoulder, “What was it you wanted to see me about?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Feeling his gaze on
her, she didn’t dare meet it for fear she’d see concerned pity in his warm brown
eyes. Concerned pity or something else that might make her forget he wasn’t the
kind of man for her. Something else that might make her forget her
determination to resist him.

“I wanted to apologize,” he finally said. “For being so
rough on you down at the station last week. I was a real jerk.”

“Yes, you were.”

Rising, she disposed of the soiled towels and then washed
her hands before facing him. As she’d feared, something more than pity darkened
his face. She saw a longing there that made her pulse race with something very
different from fear.

This can’t go on
, she decided.
I need to tell him
there’s no room for him in my life. But not while we’re alone and he can muddle
my thoughts with his warm eyes and his lips that would probably melt
chocolate…or steel.

“Why don’t we go out for that coffee?” she suggested
quickly. “I’ve had enough of this place for tonight.”

He hesitated a moment before saying, “Sounds good. I know a
place nearby.”

“Great. Just let me lock up and get my purse.”

* * * * *

Emma noticed Jason hesitate several times on their way to
and from his car. He seemed edgy too, stuffing his hands in his pockets and
then pulling them out again. He tugged at the collar of his denim jacket and
then pulled at one of his cuffs.

“This isn’t a fancy place,” he said, footsteps dragging as
they approached the bar on Silverbay Lane. “We can go somewhere else if you’d
rather.”

She glanced at the neon sign ahead. She needed to get inside
and say what she had to say before she succumbed to his beautifully reluctant
brown eyes. Maybe he knew what she was going to tell him.

“This is fine,” she said, stopping at the door.

He stopped beside her and glanced toward the big front
window and then back at her with what looked like regret. That was strange.

Determined not to give in to the pull she felt from him,
Emma opened the door. Inside, candles flickered in sconces placed around the
bar. Eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, she looked for a table and quickly
realized why Jason had suddenly grown hesitant to bring her in here.

Alan. And a woman.

She looked at Jason. His eyes revealed the truth. He had
known that her ex-husband was here with a date. He had known and he had brought
her here. He felt compelled to show her the truth and yet the guilt of doing so
plagued him. That was why he’d hesitated so many times. Both his compulsion and
his guilt touched her heart and gave her courage.