Page 126 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Had it really all been a lie?

Maybe. Maybe not, if his texts were any indication. But even if he had grown to care for her, how could anything come of it when his uncle hated her enough to try to kill her? When her very presence threatened the man’s freedom. Garrett’s feelings for her, if they existed at all, didn’t matter.

Her feelings for Garrett didn’t matter either.

Jane and Michael Kincaid’s decisions thirty years before had ended two lives. They had shifted the lives of a lot of people. Their decisions were still affecting people now. And there was nothing Aspen could do about that.

She understood why Dad had relocated as far away from here as possible. She wished she’d never come.

After hefting her suitcase into the trunk, she dug through the shopping bags she’d tossed in earlier and pulled out the socks and pajamas and hat. She opened the suitcase one more time to shove in the things she wanted to keep, leaving those destined for the thrift store in the shopping bag. It was a small trunk and not easy to maneuver, and she was so intent on the task and the thoughts bombarding her that she didn’t hear the sound of an engine until it was right behind her.

She turned in time to see a pickup truck park. Not Garrett’s.

Dean Finley climbed out.

Aspen boltedfor the front door, expecting to hear footsteps right behind her.

She didn’t, though.

“Wait!”

She heard his voice, but it was farther away than she would have expected. He wasn’t following her. He wasn’t chasing her.

Still, she didn’t stop until she’d climbed the three steps of her front stoop and opened the storm door. She turned, keeping the glass door propped open so she could step in the house and slam the door.

Dean had moved to the walkway but stopped where it intersected with the drive. He lifted both hands in the universal sign of surrender.

She pulled the handgun from the holster at her waist, disengaging the safety as she did.

She didn’t aim it, but she held onto it, just in case. He needed to know she wasn’t helpless.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Dean said.

“Why are you here?”

His hands lowered a little. “Do you mind if I just…?” He dropped them to his sides. “If I keep them like this…?”

“It’s fine.” The initial burst of adrenaline and fear were already draining. Nothing about the man looked threatening. Even the anger he’d aimed her way the night before seemed to have dissipated. But Aspen wasn’t stupid. Somebody had tried to kill her. “Just…stay there, and we’ll be good.”

He leaned against the front of her car. “Garrett tells me you’re leaving town.”

“Which is what you wanted, right?”

“Do you know why?”

“Because you built the bomb. Because you’re afraid the truth will come out.” She threw the words out there in full confidence. Itseemedtrue. Cote thought it was true. She expected Dean to respond with shock and outrage, or even amusement at her foolishness.

Instead, he seemed to sag, shoulders hunching, head dropping forward.

“It’s true, right?”

Very slowly, he looked up. And nodded.

That he didn’t deny it both thrilled and terrified her. She was getting to the bottom of the mystery—that one, anyway. But why would he tell her the truth? After so many years, why confide in Aspen?

She felt the heaviness of the gun in her hand. She wasn’t defenseless. If he came after her…

Please, God. I don’t want to hurt anybody. And I don’t want to get hurt.

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