Page 3 of Deathtoll
“And that’s the irony of it.” Kate forced a smile and stopped in front of the shelf that held an overwhelming variety of tea. She picked the nearest box and dropped it into her cart, then headed to the checkout. “Let’s get out of here.”
Emma kept up. “So, things are pretty bad between you and Murph?”
“No.” He wasn’t in any of the cashier lines, thank God. “Honestly, like I said, having an off morning.” Kate pressed a hand to her stomach, then dropped it. Working with Murph wasnotgiving her an ulcer. And if it was, then there was her answer.
“Fine,” Emma said.
The hurt tone sliced through Kate. “Listen—”
“I guess we’re not that close anymore, right? You no longer tell me things. I guess I just need to be grateful that you finally chose to tell us that you weren’tdead.”
“We’ve talked about this. I couldn’t tell you any sooner.” Kate reached for Emma’s hand, but her fingertips brushed air as Emma pulled away. “I begged them to let me contact you and Mom and Dad.”
Emma fixed her gaze on the shopping cart’s wheels as they moved forward with the line, checkout scanners beeping around them. “Igrievedyou.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“For four and a half years, I thought you were dead,” Emma said under her breath, low enough so the people around them wouldn’t hear. “Mom and Dad thought you were dead.”
God, were they going to have this conversation in the checkout line? Apparently.Okay. Fine.It had been brewing for a while. They’d spent way too much time tiptoeing around the topic since Kate had come back. They couldn’t keep that up forever.
“Because I wanted you safe,” she whispered.
“Because you didn’t trust us to keep your secret.”
“It wasn’t up to me.”
“The FBI couldn’t have stopped you from sending a postcard!”
This last sentence was hissed, fractionally louder than the rest, loud enough so the woman in front of them in line—a frazzled mom with two toddlers who were trying to climb her legs—glanced back. So did the cashier guy.
When Kate refused to meet their eyes, eventually they returned to their own business again. The woman unloaded her cart, promising the kids candy as soon as they hit the car. The cashier dragged each item over the scanner.
Emma filled her lungs and opened her mouth, and Kate had to cut her off, say something,anything, because their current argument was so not grocery store checkout line material.
“Murph proposed.”
A whiplash double take. “When?” Emma’s eyelashes twitched she stared so hard. “What did you say?”
“Three months ago. I had a panic attack.”
“Oh my God. You saidno?”
“I ran off to my office to hyperventilate.”
“What did Murph say to that?”
“Nothing. I asked him to give me some time and space. He’s respecting my wishes.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” Emma shook her head.
Probably not the best time to mention that Murph had proposed before, and Kate had said yes, and then she’d reneged, because she didn’t want to get married in witness protection, with none of their family there.
They moved forward another few steps in line.
She tried for a lighter tone with “How long are you planning on being mad at me? Just so I know how to plan?”
They’d had fights before, shouting matches even, and then they would make up, be best friends again.
