Page 43 of Fire Peak

He’d told her that in a moment of recklessness. “I broke my NDA to tell you that.”

“It’s okay, I knew it anyway. They were the only ones…who, uh, I mean, I figured it was them.” She let out a long breath. “We don’t need to get into the details. The fact that I’m even here means I sort of trust you a little bit. Not too much. Just a little bit.”

He would have given anything to be able to burst into laughter right then. Charlie was trying her hardest, he could tell.

“Anyway, whatever they want with me, I want to keep my dad out of it. He was really upset. He made me promise not to call them. But I need to know what’s going on, what they want. You still have contacts at Hobbs, right?”

“Well, they did fire me,” he reminded her, “Thanks to you.”

“Okay. So.” She thought about it. “What if I let you say you caught me?”

“Let me say?” He laughed. “You’re drinking my wine right now. I caught you fair and square.”

She waved that away with a flirty gesture. “We can argue semantics later.”

In bed, came the quick thought. Along with a sharp pulse of arousal.

“The point is, if you go to them with a breakthrough in the case—my case—maybe they’ll tell you what they want.”

“That’s doubtful. They didn’t tell me before.”

She propped her sunglasses on top of her head and leaned forward. “But you could try. I bet if you ask the right questions, you could learn a lot.”

Very true. That was his specialty.

“Please.” She held his gaze. In this clear sunlight, they were a lighter shade than the “brown” they were described as in her file. They were more of a tree bark color, a cinnamon shade, rare spice. “I don’t want my father to be stressed out about this. He should focus on getting better.”

He remembered the piece of insight that he’d passed on to Hobbs—that Charlie’s father was at the center of her life. “You’re willing to do a lot for your father, aren’t you?”

She drew back, as if he’d hit a tripwire. “What does that mean? What are you getting at?”

“Charlie…” He shifted his knee so that it brushed against her thigh. The contact caught her attention, and her lips parted in surprise. “Got any change on you?”

Silently, she dug out a quarter, a dime and three pennies from her pocket, and handed them to him.

“You came here to hire me, remember?” he said gently. “I’m working for you. All of this is confidential. Professional ethics.”

A smile flitted across her face. “You’re only charging me thirty-eight cents?”

“We can talk about compensation later. Now tell me about your father.”

Her eyes dropped. When they lifted again, he saw that they’d misted over. He held his breath; this was a Charlie he’d never seen before, vulnerable and nervous. This version of Charlie hit him right in the gut.

“I already told you my father was my best friend. From the day I was born until the day he went to prison, he was always there for me. I could tell him any silly little thought I had and he’d think it was genius. He used to hang my drawings up at work and tell everyone I was going to be a famous artist someday. Then I got into archery and he told everyone I’d probably go to the Olympics someday. Not in a pressuring way, just a cheerleader way.”

She stopped to take a breath, and another sip of wine.

“Anyway, the day they came and arrested him, I was at school. A neighbor took a video and posted it, and someone showed me. I threw up on his phone. Then I whacked him with it. It was the worst day of my life. And then the days kept getting worse and worse. I kept thinking they’d figure out it wasn’t him, and set him free and apologize and life would go back to normal. It never did. But my daddy always had a smile for me. I went to court every day of the trial. I visited him every week after he went to prison. So yes. I’d do a lot for my father.”

The pain in her voice, the fierceness, seemed to reach inside his heart and wrap around it like a warm fist. What would it feel like to be so connected to a parent?

He and his father had a distant relationship at best. He couldn’t remember much in the way of affection or hugs, and an injury early in his father’s career had given him chronic pain that always made him irritable. Nick had left home after high school and hadn’t stayed in very close touch. Luckily, his family had plenty of other kids who still lived nearby.

He’d stayed quiet for so long that Charlie lost patience and started to get to her feet. “You know, I don’t actually need you. I know how to contact the people at Hobbs, even if my dad doesn’t want me to?—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” She stood over him, arms folded across her chest, her sunglasses shielding her eyes again.

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