Page 116 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“You’d never even met him until tonight. Or am I wrong about that? Because you two seemed at odds from the moment you walked into their house.”

“I’ve never met him. But he thinks he knows me because he knew my mother.”

“I’ve been trying to tell him?—”

“And it never crossed your mind that he knew more than you realized? That maybe he was involved.”

Garrett leaned back, his eyes wide. “What are you talking about? Involved with what?”

“The bombing, Garrett. He was a suspect.”

He looked genuinely shocked. “My uncle had nothing to do with that.”

“You really believe that he asked you to spy on me for no reason? Come on, Garrett. You’re smarter than that.”

He licked his lips, looked around, shook his head. His volume was lower when he spoke. “Why do you think that?”

“Whydon’tyou?”

“Why would I?”

“He asked you to spy on me.”

“He said…he said there were people in town who wanted to know what happened to your mother. People who had a right to know, who wanted justice. I thought he was asking on their behalf. My uncle is a good man. He would never have been involved in something like that.”

Garrett was either stupid or lying.

No.

He trusted his uncle. He trusted his uncle enough to betray her.

She should let it go. She should go inside and close the door and pretend she’d never met Garrett McCarthy.

But fury and fear and frustration bubbled up inside her. She couldn’t quell those feelings. Even though she’d promised she wouldn’t tell anybody, she couldn’t stop the words that were dying for release.

“Did your uncle tell you he and Deborah were questioned last night? That the police are checking their alibis?”

“What?”

“Dean is a prime suspect. Cote thinks he’s the one who tried to kill me.”

Garrett stepped backward, down one step, then another. “You’re lying.” But his face had lost all its color. His voice sounded not confident but fearful.

She’d lobbed a grenade, and it’d hit hard.

Might as well make it a twofer.

“I can’t work with someone I don’t trust.” She held out her hand. “I’ll take my key.”

He found his keyring, slipped the key off with hands that trembled, then held it out.

She took it, but before she could pull her hand away, he wrapped his around it, stepping back to the stoop with her.

His nearness sent a whole new batch of emotions flying. She remembered all the sweet things he’d said to her. She remembered all the kind things he’d done for her. She remembered how she’d felt when he’d come to her rescue on the mountain the night before.

She remembered the kiss they’d shared in that very spot.

All those memories made this so much harder.

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