Page 75 of Deadly Evidence
With that one kiss, she felt herself melting inside like chocolate warming in the sun.
But from down the road came the rumble of a dump truck, and seconds later it pulled to a screeching halt at the far end of the parking lot.
The driver waved at them, then gears clanged as he began releasing a load of dusty gravel.
Brady stepped away from her with a rueful smile. “I guess we should head back.”
She nodded and tossed him the keys, wishing for things that would never be.
The trip back to the ranch, sitting next to him as he drove, made her wish for the simple joy of shared lives.
Love and laughter and quiet summer evenings under the stars.
The kind of deep and abiding companionship and caring that Jonah had shared with Grandma Lydia, and that Vicente had shared with his beloved Consuelo.
Middle age, old age—the wrinkles and the weary bones had never dimmed the glow of love in their eyes.
“A nickel for your thoughts,” Brady said, angling a glance at her. A corner of his mouth tipped up. “You sure are quiet.”
“Just thinking. You’re expecting this big shipment to come through soon—and then what?”
“One night and it will be over as far as the Triple R is concerned. Beyond here—there’s a multiagency task force already in place, and we’ll be taking down the big guns every stepof the way.” His mouth flattened to a grim line. “The Garcia gang will cease to exist.”
“And what will you do next?”
“I’m...not sure.”
Another drug operation, she supposed. One he’d already been assigned to cover but couldn’t discuss. More danger, more intrigue—somewhere far, far away from her ordinary existence at the ranch.
She’d soon be just a case number in a file drawer, and imagining anything else was a foolish waste of time.
At the ranch, Brady gave her hand a quick squeeze and then headed off to the house to check for e-mails from Luis. Hoping, she supposed, for news that everything was rapidly falling into place.
He wanted the action to start.
She knew it would be the end of having him here, a part of her world, and the thought left her feeling melancholy.
Slamming her door, she turned for the barn, where Lacey usually headed the moment the school bus dropped her off.
At the breathtaking sound of a violin coming from the grove of trees past the machine shed, she stopped in her tracks.
The notes, pure and sweet as an angel’s cry, soared, then swept into an intricate, mournful passage that could have been wrenched from a grieving mother’s heart.
Mia, surely. Though as far as Anna knew, the girl had yet to play in front of anyone here.
Her talent and pure emotion were so incredible that Anna simply stood, her eyes closed, and absorbed the music for a few moments before following the sound.
She’d just passed the first cabin when she heard something else...a long, agonized moan, followed by a crash and the shattering of glass.
She pivoted and raced for Vicente’s porch, then banged on the door and called his name. When he didn’t answer, she opened the door and stepped inside. It took her eyes a second to adjust to the dim light.
A kitchen chair was upended against the wall. Broken glass lay on the floor by the table.
Vicente, his head bowed, stood with his back to the door and his hands braced on the kitchen counter. The framed photograph of his late wife lay on the counter beneath his fingertips.
Anna started toward him, but he raised a hand in warning, waving her away.
“What’s wrong—are you okay?”
