Page 65 of Tango
“A great day, considering.” She takes a seat on the couch beside me.
She’s close enough that her thigh brushes against mine. I clear my throat. “I take it you had fun then?”
“I did. Kennedy and Nova are great. Then I spent some time with my parents.”
I’d known where she was because I’d checked security camera footage when the sun was starting to sink and she still wasn’t home.
Home. When did I start thinking of this as her home? You’re treading dangerous waters, Tucker Hunt.
“Awesome. I’m glad you had a good time,” I reply then shift my attention back to the Bible in my lap. Whenever I struggle, it’s where I run for help. The lighthouse guiding me home when I’m in troubled waters. I’ve read the full Bible cover to cover at least a dozen times—and then some. But I always find something new whenever I open its pages.
Until today. Though, to be fair, that’s entirely because I’m not focusing. Mainly because the woman beside me has been on my mind for every moment of every day since the second I saw her staring up at me through that broken basement window.
“What book are you reading?”
“Psalm 3.”
“‘But You, O Lord, are a shield around me; You are my glory, the One who holds my head high. I cried out to the Lord, and He answered me from His holy mountain.’” She tilts her head. “I know that one. Question is, what are you crying out for?”
I push up from the couch and set my Bible aside. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. Look, we’re sitting around, waiting for Kara to say something that will give us proof as to who’s behind the setup, so it’s not like we don’t have time.”
“I don’t have time for this conversation.” My tone sharpens because we’re getting way too close to me coming clean about everything I’m feeling.
“Why?” She gets up and follows me into the kitchen. Frustration ebbs at me. Why can’t she just drop it?
Anger gets the best of me. “Because you’re a client, and discussing my personal life is not relevant to this case. No matter how nosy you are about it,” I snap, and the moment the callous words leave my lips, I regret them. She’s lost her two closest friends and had her entire life turned upside down, and I’m so wrapped up in my feelings about her that I can’t even respond respectfully.
Alice crosses her arms. “Fine. Understood.” She turns on her heel.
“Alice, wait?—”
She whirls on me. “I’m not unaccustomed with the idea of lashing out to protect secrets. I practically trademarked the idea. You want to keep your personal life private? Fine. I get it. I’m a case—a client, as you so eloquently put it. We’re not friends. I’m not crashing in your spare bedroom because I want to be here; I’m here because I have to be here. Thanks for reminding me of that.” She turns on her heel again and marches down the hallway.
I groan and run both hands over my face. Way to go, Tucker.
My cell rings, so I withdraw it, so frustrated with what just happened that I don’t even check the readout. “Hello?”
“You need to get Alice out. Now,” Dylan says, his tone rushed. “Pack light. The driveway is blocked, and you’re going to have to ride out.”
“What do you mean?” Adrenaline pulses through my system. It’s nearly dark. Why are they here now?
“You’ve got a team of tactical officers headed this way. Gibson called to warn us, said he couldn’t reach you on your cell, but they have a warrant for her arrest.”
“Just hers?”
“Apparently, though I imagine your name will be added shortly. They’re on their way, Tucker—get her and get out.” He hangs up the phone, and I rush down the hall toward the spare bedroom.
“Alice, we have to go, now.”
She rips the door open. “I’m not interested in going anywhere with you.”
“Then feel free to wait on the porch for the tactical team that’s on their way. That way, they don’t kick in my pretty front door.”
Her eyes widen, and she pales. “What? They’re coming?”
“Yes. And unless you want to end up in handcuffs, we need to go—now.”
