Page 53 of Cornered

Her name was practically a growl. And why did she have to likethat?

“I’m concerned for your safety.” His hands flexed on the table. “You could have walked in on that burglary. The vandalism could be directed at you. And I’m not sure I can investigate this without letting my personal feelings interfere.”

Cassie kept her arms crossed so he wouldn’t see her hands trembling. “I fail to see how this is an issue. I assume you want all of your constituents to be healthy and happy.”

“You arenotthe same, and you know it.”

“No, Officer Bledsoe. I’mexactlythe same as anyone else. At least as far as you’re concerned. So I suggest you sit that cute little butt of yours down, conduct the interview, and allow me to get on with my day. I’m sure my cousins will be anxious to get to work, and I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do today.”

She took a breath and gave herself a mental high-five. Of course she knew he was referring to their dating history, but playing dumb, or at least refusing to acknowledge that he might have a valid point, made her feel like she had the upper hand.

She tried to focus on that and not on the way she’d be spending the next six months trying to erase that growly “Cassie” from her memory. Or the way his struggle to hold it together made her wish for things that she couldn’t have.

Like Donovan Bledsoe.

A Donovan Bledsoe who currently looked ready to rain down death and destruction on anyone who got in his way.

He sat, turned on his voice recorder, stated their names and the date, and then held his pen against his notepad. “Ms. Quinn, do you have any quarrels with anyone in the kitchen?”

Bronwyn. That rat.

When she regained motor function of her mouth, she gave Donovan a sugary sweet smile. “How would you define quarrel,Officer Bledsoe? Chefs are as temperamental as any other artist. No one expects everyone to get along.”

“No one expects a coworker to destroy the kitchen, either. But given that it’s a very real possibility that one of your coworkers did exactly that, it’s one we have to explore.” Donovan’s tone was even. But there was a muscle jumping in his neck.

What was wrong with her? Shame flooded through her as she thought about her reactions to Donovan in the last ten minutes. He’d been nothing but kind. While she’d been ... awful. She leaned forward and rested her forehead on the table. “Could you turn off the recorder? Just for a minute?”

He didn’t answer, but she heard the recorder move. Presumably he’d turned it off.

She didn’t look up. “Could we start over please? I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You’re concerned, and I appreciate your worry. I apologize for being such a shrew about it.” She sat up but kept her head down. “This is harder than I anticipated it would be. If you could restart the voice recorder, I’ll answer your questions without the attitude.”

“Cass.” This time, there was no growl. There was tenderness. And drat her stupid, idiotic, traitorous, glutton-for-punishment heart, but she liked that too. “You don’t owe me an apology. Your day ran off the rails, and then I took it and threw it over a cliff.”

She didn’t want to laugh. He wasn’t being funny. But her heart still ached. Because Donovan was funny. Kind. Protective. Caring. Compassionate. And for all his macho manliness, he wasn’t afraid of apologizing or of expressing his emotions. He’d been practically perfect in every way.

Right up until the day he wasn’t.

And she still didn’t know why.

But she wasn’t going to find out. Not today. Today, she wasgoing to put on her big-girl panties and deal with the situation. “I’ll accept your apology if you’ll accept mine.”

“Deal.”

She pointed to the recorder. “Let’s do this.”

He gave her a look that said the conversation they were about to have wasn’t the one he wanted to have. But he hit record. “Cassie, could you tell me if there are any issues in the kitchen that I need to be aware of?”

“Bronwyn ratted me out, didn’t she?”

He smirked. “She indicated that she had concerns, and you’d been unwilling to discuss them. She also indicated that while she respected your decision at the time, circumstances being what they are, it would be wise for me to find out what’s going on.”

“You aren’t going to like it.”

“I don’t have to like it. Doesn’t mean I don’t need to know.”

“Fine.” How to put this ... delicately? “The sous-chef, Amos Cartwright.”

“Yes?”

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