Page 136 of Hidden Nature

“That was the deal.”

“There are two of them,” she agreed. “Could be more than two, but at least two.”

“So a team, of uncertain number. They pick somebody. Maybe they were in the news for some reason, maybe they cut the van off down the road somewhere, posted something the bad guys didn’t like in some comment section, outbid them on eBay or whatever. It doesn’t take much to set the crazy off.”

She took the plates to load in the not always reliable dishwasher. “Not if the crazy’s already there.”

“They’ve been about a month apart so far as you know.”

“That’s right.” Yes, she thought, he paid attention.

“There has to be a common denominator. You said the dentist had money.”

“I’d put him just above rich into the wealthy category.”

“People like him, who work out a plan to cheat with a young blonde?They don’t walk away from wealth. If he planned to walk, he’d have found a way to secure some of the money first. The woman? I can see there might’ve been some shit happening inside the marriage nobody knew about. But if she’d decided to run, she’d have kept driving. Plus, you said she had a tight relationship with her parents, her sibling.”

“She did. And a close circle of friends.”

“The last guy? Maybe he has a breakdown, decides to go off.”

“Between his locker and the parking lot?”

“He might’ve walked off whistling because he knew he was going. People leave their kids behind, Sarge, all the damn time. But he left the car. No reason to leave the car. If he’d decided to go, or decided to kill himself again, why not take the car and drive off a bridge somewhere?”

Nash shrugged. “What do I know? I’m a contractor. But from where I’m sitting, you’ve got a common denominator in the car—that’s aftermath. You just need to find the common denominator in the before.”

“Because I’m right, and all three were targets of the same person or persons.”

“Because you’re right.”

“Because I’m right,” she repeated.

He wasn’t Joel, wasn’t Cap, but she felt vindicated. The time, the effort, the trip to Uniontown, the ones she planned to take to Deep Creek, to Cumberland.

Vindicated.

“Thank you!” Grabbing his face in her hands, she leaned down, kissed him.

And quickly—maybe not quite quickly enough—pulled back.

“That was reflex,” she told him.

“Okay.” He got to his feet. “So’s this.”

He yanked her back. She had time to think: Trouble’s coming, before he drew her up to her toes and covered her mouth with his.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

He woke urges she’d tried to quell, then sent them racing through every cell in her body. Giving in to the moment, she moved in rather than away and let herself soak in the pleasure of just feeling again.

His hands moved up her sides, strong, sure, then down again.

Tic, wanting his share of attention, tried to wiggle between them.

Easing back, eyes still on Sloan’s, Nash snapped, “Sit!”

Because her lips felt tender, warm and tender, Sloan lifted a finger to rub over them. “You have considerable skill.”

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