Page 12 of What We May Be

“Jefferson Marshall.”

“Is a local matter. My town, my citizen, my case.”

“No one’s disputing that.” He dropped his arms and lifted his chin. His eyes were wary, the brow above them furrowed, and his lips pressed together in a thin line. Whatever his reason for being here, he didn’t want to tell her. “I owe him, Charlie.”

Now there was the Sean Hale she knew. Duty-bound, except apparently when it came to her and Trevor. Regardless, that was then, this was now, and as she ran class schedules through her memory, she couldn’t make the equation work. “Jefferson Marshall? He was never one of your professors.”

“No, not him.”

“Then who?” she demanded. “Who did you fly across an ocean for?” Who was that important to him? More important than she and Trevor had ever been.

“I’m back in the States now.”

She rocked back a step, barely catching the Since when? on the tip of her tongue. Same as he’d promised a month ago, she hadn’t checked up on him either. As far as she’d known, he was still at The Hague—

Wait, The Hague.

“Him? Emmitt Marshall? Professor Marshall’s son?”

Sean nodded. “He’s a colleague. One who’s saved my ass on more than one occasion.” Pink slashed across Sean’s cheekbones above his neatly trimmed beard. “Marsh is on assignment and delayed a few days. He wanted eyes on the case, and we need to see to his father’s estate.”

A nickname, a blush, an entanglement in the other man’s affairs. Charlie wondered how close Agents Hale and Marshall were and why that made her back straighten and her voice harden. “I spoke to Agent Marshall this morning. He didn’t mention sending you.”

“It took some convincing, considering.” He shrugged and ran a hand over his nape. “I’m not here to interfere with your investigation or your life, Charlie. I’m just doing a favor for a friend, then I’ll be out of your hair.” He dropped his arm with a sad half smile. “Like I promised I would be.”

Except he was there now—in Hanover—and not an ocean away. Ignoring all that, and ignoring her curiosity as a detective and as his ex who wanted to know more about his involvement with Agent Marshall, Charlie focused instead on reading his expression and explanation. The contrite, conciliatory look on his face indicated he was sincere. He wasn’t there to cause trouble, but after his last visit, Sean Hale in Hanover was bound to stir some up nonetheless. Her best play was to cooperate, give him the info he wanted, then send him on his way before keeping their promises became impossible. No matter how much her heart recoiled at the notion of him leaving a third time.

“Let me brief the team, then we’ll bring you up to speed.” She turned on her heel, climbed the stoop, and opened the station door. “You can wait in my office.”

“Much appreciated.” One corner of his mouth tipped up, and she immediately questioned her decision. Her gaze drifted to his high cheekbones still flushed pink, his strong, square jaw covered with stubble, his full lower lip she’d never forgotten the taste of. Had been reminded of a few short weeks ago. Electricity sparked through her veins.

She distracted herself from the charge by reminding him, “This is HPD’s case.”

“Understood, Deputy Henby.” He grinned and raised three fingers as they stopped at the top of the stoop. “In and out, I promise.”

And there was the jokester she remembered, the one who’d been absent earlier in the month, none of them in the joking mood then. She shouldn’t be now either, but that grin, when Sean let it out, had always been infectious. “Boy Scout, my ass,” she said with a smirk.

Laughing, he stepped past her into the station. Coffee, Irish Spring, and a singular Sean Hale scent tickled her senses, and she wondered how many promises would be broken by the time this was all over.

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