Page 12 of The Making of Marnie Jones

“I don’t like it when people I care about are hurt.” The librarian planted her hands firmly on her hips, her anger palpable. Her brown eyes sparked fury.

“If I hurt her, it certainly wasn’t my intention.” His mind whirled. How much did Loriana know? Did she know Marnie’s secrets, or had the young woman made a fresh start? He resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair, and because he had to do something, he ventured, “Will she speak to me?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I told her she didn’t have to, but she wants closure on this. Once she’s had her say, you can try to defend yourself, but if she sends you away, then you need to go.”

Loriana didn’t really have the power to send him away, but he also saw the truth of the woman’s words. Would they call Seth the venerable Royal Canadian Mounted Police Constable to have him run out of town, or was this just bluster? He couldn’t risk it. “Please let me talk to her.”

The older woman regarded him. Obviously she was protective of Marnie, a woman young enough to be her much-younger sister. “I’ll get her.” Her tone was as frigid as a prairie’s ice-pond surface. She walked away.

He scratched his head. What had changed between yesterday and today?

When Marnie came out to the circulation desk from the back room, his heart sank.

Her sunglasses were already firmly in place, and no purse was in sight.

Obviously lunch wasn’t in the cards for today. He gave her a wide berth as she stomped past him.

She stalked through the automatic glass doors with gusto.

Lengthening his stride to catch up with her, he followed her around to the side of the building to the parking lot. Deserted, save for a few cars.

Without warning, she rounded on him. “You lied to me.”

Fuck.“I didn’t lie…”

He was quickly cut off. “You didn’t tell me what you do for a living.” She aimed her index finger at his chest and glared.

Her anger struck him—despite the fact he was more than five feet away from her. He gave her space, even as he wanted to close the distance. “You didn’t ask.”Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.Although he couldn’t see her eyes, the stricken look on her face told him everything he needed to know. He tried to backtrack. “I didn’t want it to become an issue, you know?”

“No.” Points of red rose high on her cheekbones, she shook her fists. “I don’t know. Did you think I wouldn’t research you? That I wouldn’t find out you’re a reporter?” Her voice hitched higher.

Her aim was dead center, and he felt the hit. Bile rose in his throat, and panic seized his chest. “I thought I had time. Time to convince you to come back to Toronto with me. Time to get you to see how much Olivia needs you. Time to gain your trust.”

“Well, that’s never going to happen now.” She rested her fists on her hips. “You must know how I feel about reporters, Mr. McGrath, because you don’t strike me as a stupid man.”

Another zinger. “No, I’m not stupid, Marnie, and yes, I deduced your antipathy toward journalists. And it’s Jake.”Christ. “Look, Olivia’s life is on the line—”

“How do I even know she’s your niece? How do I know this isn’t some ploy to get Laura Derks back to Toronto? It’s been five years, after all, since they found her. Wouldn’t that be a great little exclusive? A real coup, I’d say.”

“Olivia Baterismy niece.” No hiding his desperation.

“Why do you and Olivia have different last names?”

A straightforward question. “Lydia was married to Olivia’s father for about ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” She frowned.

He grimaced. “They got married because Lydia was pregnant. Before Olivia was born, he got drunk one night and wrapped his car around a telephone pole.”

“I’m sorry.”

Everyone said that, but from what he’d learned, it was no great loss, except for depriving Olivia of a father. “You didn’t know. Anyway, it was a fair question to ask.” Did she need more? “Anything else?”

She cocked her head. “You said you were young when Olivia was born. How old are you?”

He rubbed his hand across his face. “I was ten. Now I’m an ancient thirty.” At times he felt thirty, and days like today he felt a whole lot older. “You believe me, that Olivia’s my niece? Look, Marnie, I’m not here to out you. For whatever reason, you’re no longer Laura Derks. I may not understand that, but I respect it.”

Her fists clenched and unclenched. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

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