Page 43 of Memory of Murder
“Parts, to some degree,” he said, surprising her. But then he braked at an intersection and shifted his attention to her. “Detective Jones did what he was told to do. Anyone who has worked with the police understands that when there’s a murder—particularly in a fairly small town like this one—a detective on vacation can be called in. No one wanted this case, so they handed it off to the rookie. Any potential mistakes would be his.”
Anne’s frustration and anger fizzled. “He wasn’t important enough to protect.”
“Or,” Jack said as he took a right, “someone higher up was protecting the future senator and wanted a scapegoat in place in case someone ever came along and pointed out the holes in the investigation.”
“Like us.” Anne hadn’t thought of that one. “Kevin Langston might have had a friend in the department making sure he was never dragged into the fray.”
“I would put money on it.” Jack flashed her a smile.
Her heart skipped a beat. “How do we go about finding out who that is—was?”
“After the conversation we just had with Jones, I don’t think we’ll have to do anything except wait. Whoever decided how that investigation was to be handled will catch up with us.”
In light of the fire at the hotel, the idea made Anne more than a little nervous and at the same time incredibly giddy.
She suspected the next couple of days were going to get even more interesting.
Chapter Sixteen
Barrington
Langston Residence
Plum Tree Road, 1:00 p.m.
Since the meeting with Detective Jones, Jack had driven to Carin Carter Wallace’s residence on Rollings Hills Drive. Again that disembodied voice on the intercom at the gate had insisted Ms. Wallace was not home and she had no idea where she was this morning.Personal time, her calendar showed. He and Anne had simply shaken their heads. The woman was still avoiding them. No surprise really.
Since he felt confident the detective would make it a point to get word to the Langstons, Jack had decided that watching their home would be the right step. Anne had agreed. If Detective Jones was quick about it, one or both Langstons would likely be reacting sooner rather than later.
“If either one leaves the house—” Anne broke the extended silence “—we’re going to follow, right?”
“We are.” They had grabbed lunch and spent some time surveilling the Wallace house to no avail. Jack had attempted to start a conversation from time to time, but nothing stuck. More than once he had considered bringing up last night, but there hadn’t been a moment that felt right.
No, that wasn’t true. If he were honest with himself, he worried that he’d read far too much into the moment. He wasn’t at all sure she had felt the same way he had. She’d experiencedthe need and the urgency—that part had been obvious. But he wasn’t sure she felt the deeper attraction, the deeper connection that he had. He liked Anne. A lot. And he wanted to know her better…if she was interested.
Since she hadn’t brought up the subject either, taking her lead seemed like the right move. No matter that he actually wanted to talk about it. Part of him wanted to apologize for making the first move. He should have restrained himself. But the need to kiss her had overridden his senses. He’d had no choice. After that, there had been no stopping.
Not that he regretted what they’d shared. No way. He just hoped she didn’t.
Last night had been…nice. In truth, it was way better than nice. Evengreatdidn’t feel like an adequate description. The best way to describe it was that he wanted it to happen again…and again after that.
Still, he had crossed a line no matter that he refused to regret any aspect of it. He cared about this woman, and he wanted to spend more time with her…if she was agreeable, and last night it had felt like she was.
But he wasn’t pushing the idea. She was vulnerable right now. He’d lost control last night, but if it happened again, she would have to make the first move.
“You shouldn’t feel guilty about last night.”
Her words yanked him back to the here and now. Surprised him. He turned to her. “Why would you think I feel guilty?”
She kept her attention focused forward. “Well, I…you haven’t mentioned it, and…”
He laughed softly. “I was waiting for you to bring it up.” He studied her profile, easily spotted the uncertainty and hesitation there now that he looked more closely. She was nervous. “Since you brought it up, let me assure you that guilt is not what I feel.”
She met his gaze then, hers wide. “I hope you don’t regret it either. It was as much my decision as yours.”
He shook his head. “No regret. As long as you have no guilt or regret…”
“No regret and no guilt. I’m glad it happened. It was really…” She closed her eyes, took a breath. “It was amazing and…” She looked directly into his eyes then. “I hope when this is finished, we can do it again.” She snapped her eyes shut and winced. “I mean…”
