Page 348 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Jacob wasn’t going to lose it just because someone parked in his preferred space.

The store was nearly empty this time of night—the way he liked it. Still, two employees who were barely adults whispered to each other over the broccoli. One glanced at Jacob.

He shoved the cart toward the onions.

“…probably killed her.”

Jacob twisted around to where both stared at him. Long enough Jacob spotted a shift right before they glanced at each other.

“Is there something you want to say to me?”

Those pimply faces were about to dissolve in fear. He saw one lip quiver.

Jacob rolled his eyes and went back to his shopping. Soon as he got home, he would call Hank and ask if there was a reasonfor that whole thing. Maybe the town was talking about him. Or someone had seen what happened with Celia’s boyfriend.

He didn’t even know that guy’s name, but maybe he should visit the sheriff’s office and tell them what he knew about Celia. Which, admittedly, wasn’t much. Still, her boyfriend could have hurt her.

If it weren’t for the police chief and the captain, he would have. Lachlan was probably the person who told all those true crime authors how that killer tormented the town. Maybe he thought there was something Jacob never told. As for Captain McCauley? Jacob didn’t know what was in that guy’s head.

It was like they’d already decided he was?—

Jacob stopped.Surely not.

He dragged the cart back three feet and glanced down the dry goods aisle.

Blinked.

Adelyn Franklin.

Addie looked up from the box of brownie mix in her hand as if she could feel his attention on her. She blinked just like he had.

All of it rushed back in an instant. The cabin. The terror. Those insects crawling over every inch of everything. Music pounded so loud they couldn’t hear each other, not even shouting as loud as possible.

Hours.

It had lasted for hours.

Pitch-black. Then bright white. Silence, then more hours of deafening music. Until he wanted to scratch his ears off. Until the weapon the killer left on the dresser started to look like a viable option.

Jacob sucked in a breath through his nose.That’s not who you are.

He bent forward over the basket of his cart and took a long inhale, followed by a slow exhale. In his mind he pictured theexperience. As he blew out, he forced the image to move farther away. As though he could control it, push it away, get it as far from him as possible.

A light touch registered. Her hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

Jacob opened his eyes and stared at his hand. Her clean fingers. Tidy nails. Some kind of pale polish.

He took a couple more breaths to gather his composure and lifted his gaze to her.

“You okay, Jake?”

Jake. He’d always been Jake with her. He said nothing.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” She shook her head. The darkness he lived with was there in her eyes. She wasn’t immune to it.

Their connection. He could feel it in her hand on his arm and in her attention. The warmth of her gaze did something that’d never happened with anyone else. Not before her. Not since. This woman understood him in a way no one else would.

She gave him a nervous smile. “Of all the people to run into at the?—”

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