Page 117 of Head Room
I shifted topics.“Is that why you called?”
“Checking in.Tamantha’s got a cookout and swim party—”
“It’s too cold—”
“It’s Wyoming.And I have things to clear up before your parents arrive late afternoon tomorrow.”
“You’re going to be busy all day tomorrow?”
After a noticeable pause, he said, “Hope to be.You have anything on for the day?”
My pause lasted even longer.The words were right.The voice wasn’t bad.
The combination snapped my brain into gear.
“Are you keeping secrets from me that touch on whether Sergeant Jardos was the body found in his burnt-out cabin?”After another half beat of consideration and before he responded, I added, “Or secrets that touch on who the body might be?”
“Secrets?No.”
“Tom—”
“Hold up there.Secrets?No,” he repeated.“Things you might not know that you’d most likely want to know?Possibly.”
“Well, I’d most likely want to know everything I don’t know.”
He chuckled low in his throat in a way that made me wish we were not on the phone.“I do admire your honesty.”
“Thank you.Now tell me what’s involved with this situation that you think I’d like to know and don’t hold back.”
Another pause.
“Tom?”
“Not yet.”
“Tom—”
“As soon as I know.”
The problem with loving Thomas David Burrell is he’s trustworthy.Which means I have to trust him.
“Fine.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Trusting him didn’tmean I had to like waiting fornot yetto becomenow.
So, yes, I snagged Nola Choi and invited her to dinner for a distraction.
We ate at the bar in the Haber House Hotel dining room.
While her company kept my mind off trusting Tom and waiting, she tried to pump me for information.
Without success.
I countered with educational essays on life from the perspective of experience.
Without success.
