Page 10 of Twin Threats In Austin
“Oh, no,” he countered. “I like your adjectives way better than mine.”
She laughed, and it filled the cab of the SUV with something that felt a lot like hope.
“Then, we go with mine,” she said, then added, “I lost both of my parents a year apart to lung cancer. Dad was a lifetime smoker. For Mom, it was all secondhand smoke that caused hers.” She shook her head. “My dad loved her beyond anything I’ve ever seen or will probably ever experience in my lifetime, so it would’ve killed him to know he was the reason she followed him in death a year after he left us.”
After mumbling a few words that fell short of providing the comfort he wished he could give her, he asked, “How long ago did you lose your mom?”
“Seven months ago,” she said, her voice filled with a surprising vulnerability.
Here, he’d been rambling on about his own family situation when her hurt was still so recent and so close to the surface. “I should’ve asked about you before I went on about my own problems. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for, Camden,” she said. He liked the way his name rolled off her tongue. “My parents had a great love story. I wholeheartedly believe my mom didn’t want to be in this world without my dad. Or, maybe that’s what I choose to believe because that makes her somehow in control instead of a helpless victim. Does that sound weird?”
“Makes sense to me,” he said softly. “I never bought in to the idea we have no control over what happens to us. I mean, sure, the details aren’t always ours to decide, but what would be the point if our lives were predetermined, and we had no say? What would be the point of having a brain that allows us to think if we weren’t meant to use it?”
“I couldn’t agree more,” she said. “I never understood or accepted the idea of a scenario that gave us no control over our decisions or responsibility for our mistakes.”
Camden liked Rochelle. She was intelligent and fierce when she needed to be.
“I miss them,” she said. “I’m thirty-three years old and still wish I could call my mom when something really great happens. Honestly, she’s the first person I think about when I have good news and bad news. There are times when I’ve already picked up my cell before I remember she’s not an option to call anymore.”
Camden reached across the console, took Rochelle’s hand in his, and then gave a gentle squeeze for reassurance and comfort.Lightning struck at the point where their skin touched. The jolt of surprise in her hazel eyes said she’d felt the same thing.
If it had been winter, he’d blame static electricity. But that electricity would’ve had to be on steroids for the effect it had on him.
Once the initial shock was over, Camden was flooded with warmth the equivalent of a dozen campfires on a cold night.
He stared down at his hand like it didn’t belong to his body anymore, like it had taken on a life of its own.Whoa!
An awkward moment passed between them as they both seemed to catch on to the rarity of an occurrence like this one, like trying to explain how the engineering marvel that was the Taj Mahal had been built back in the mid-1600s.
Out of the corner of his eye, Camden saw the red ball cap on the screen. He pulled his hand back and refocused. “Can we rewind?”
It took a second for Rochelle to act, but then she nodded and reversed the footage.
“There,” Camden stated. “He’s walking outside.”
Being distracted had caused them to miss the ball cap walking inside.Dammit. Camden was a professional. This wasn’t acceptable.
Rochelle cleared her throat, then took a sip of Coke. After rewinding, she pointed at the screen. “The place is practically wall-to-wall people. But, from what I can tell, he walks inside an hour earlier. See?”
Sure enough, the red ball cap entered the nightclub. In the mass of people, it was impossible to see much beyond the back of the ball cap.
“The place is hopping,” he said.
“Good place to blend into the crowd and go unnoticed,” Rochelle pointed out.
“True,” he agreed as she fast-forwarded the footage.
“Here he is again, walking out with someone who could be Justina,” she said as she slowed the footage.
Too bad it was grainy, and the place was shoulder-to-shoulder people, making it nearly impossible to make out anything except blobs.
“Justina is tiny by comparison,” he stated. “A good defense lawyer might be able to argue it isn’t even her with the guy in the red ball cap.”
And then something happened. Justina looked up almost directly at the camera, a smile on her face.
She’d had no idea she was about to disappear.
