"Oh, Patrick. This isn't your fault. You were what—twenty two years old when it happened? You were barely out of college, and you were heartbroken and stricken with grief."
"I still should have asked more questions. I should have made people talk. That's what I do. That's what I'm good at. But I didn't. I just accepted what I was told." He'd never felt so angry with himself as he did right now.
"We shouldn't do this here," she said. "You can berate yourself when we're in a locked car, okay?"
"Yes, sorry, let's go."
They walked quickly back to the car. Once inside, doors locked, he started the engine and pulled away, checking his rearview mirror for any followers, but the street behind him was empty.
"I'm sorry, Patrick," Dani said quietly. "To have Ann tell you your mother was murdered had to be a horrible shock."
"There was a part of me that expected it, but then I wasn't ready for it."
"How could you ever be ready for that?"
"I don't know. But it doesn't matter if I'm ready or not. I've heard Ann's theory. Now I need evidence to back it up." He turned his head to look at her. "It all comes back to MDT—your family—my mom."
"I don't think they're connected," she said quickly.
"Don't you? I do. I think everything is connected. Maybe your great-grandmother was right; maybe you are going to find the missing piece of the puzzle, not just for your father, but also for my mother."
Dani immediately shook her head. "I don't believe that. And don't forget that a lot of secrets about MDT came out this past year. Maybe the information that Alicia and Jake discovered was the same information this source had. Maybe he knew about Jerry and the other traitors at the company. The people he might have been blowing the whistle on could have been the same people who have already been caught."
"Were they caught or were they killed?" he challenged. "And you already said your siblings don't think this is over. Neither do I."
"But not everything has to be connected," she protested.
"And yet it is. You have to stop fighting it, Dani. You have to accept that we're both caught up in different parts of the same story."
"You don't have enough evidence to support that."
"Then help me find it."
She sighed. "I really should have gone home after the gala."
"Well, you're home now," he said, pulling into a parking spot not far from her building.
"You don't have to park," she said quickly. "I can walk from here."
"Not a chance. There's too much going on. I want to see you safely inside your apartment."
They walked down the block together. Dani let him in the building, and they took the stairs to her apartment. When she got to her door, she stopped abruptly, and shot him a panicked look.
"It's open," she whispered.
He stared in shock at the slightly ajar door. "I'll go in. Wait out here."
"We should go downstairs and call the police."
"You go downstairs. I want to see what we're dealing with."
"Someone could be in there, Patrick."
She had a point, but it was quiet, no sound coming from inside the apartment. "I'm going to take that chance. Go. I'll come and get you when it's clear."
He gently pushed open the door. The apartment was dark, so he flipped on the light switch. As light flooded the room, it was immediately clear that someone had searched the place. The cushions had been taken out of the sofa, drawers in the coffee table were open, jackets and coats from the hall closet had been tossed onto the floor.
He moved through the living room into the bedroom and bathroom and found the same messy chaos in each of those rooms. When he returned to the living room, Dani was standing by the couch, looking dazed and confused.
"They're gone," he said. "And I told you to wait outside."
"It felt scarier out there." She let out a breath. "Who would do this? Who would break in here?"
"We should call the police."
"This is about you. Someone thinks you told me something or gave me something…" Her gaze swept the room. "This wasn't a robbery; it was a search."
"Yes, it was." He pulled out his phone and punched in 911. As the operator came on the line, he reported a break-in. After being told that the intruders were gone, the dispatcher told them the police would be there shortly.
Dani picked up a sofa cushion and put it back into place.
"Don't do anything else," he said. "Let the police see it as it is first." He paused. "Do you have anything of value hidden away? Money, jewelry, electronics? Do you want to check and see if anything was taken?"
"I'll look."
As she went into the bedroom, he walked back to the front door, noting that the lock had been broken.
"I don't think they took anything," she said, returning a moment later. "I had a twenty-dollar bill on my dresser. It's still there. I don't own much in the way of expensive jewelry, but the few pieces I have are in the jewelry box."
"Computer?"
"I left it at work. I had a late meeting, so I changed for the gala in the office, and I went to the hotel right after work. But there's nothing on my computer, at least nothing to do with you. This has to be about you and your questions, right?"
He met her gaze, happy to see that her green eyes were losing their haze. The shock was wearing off; she was getting back to business. "I think so. Sorry."
"But not that many people are aware that we know each other."
"Erica knows. She could have told any number of people. Joe and Rico both saw us together," he said. "Ann didn't become aware of our connection until a few minutes ago, so I think we can count her out."
"We shouldn't have called the police," she said, her eyes growing more distressed. "There's going to be a police report. Erica is not going to like that. That will be twice in one week that I've made a statement to the police."
"She may not find out. It depends on how much you want to tell the cops."
"What will they even do? Nothing was taken. No one was hurt. We have no witnesses. I can't believe they'll do anything more than take a report and file it. Do they even check for fingerprints in cases like this?"
"Doubtful. And, frankly, I don't think they'd find any. We need to call a locksmith, get your lock fixed."
"I thought I was safe here. I never felt afraid."
He was sorry that she was scared now. "I should have stayed away from you, Dani."
"It might not have mattered. I saved your life in that park. Erica knew about it when I got into the office on Monday."
He raised an eyebrow at that piece of information. "You never said that before."
"Didn't I?"
"How did she find out so fast?"
"She said she has friends in the Corpus Christi Police Department. If any staffer's name comes up, they tell her about it."
"That's odd and very creepy."
"She's thorough. The staff's behavior reflects on the senator. She's been direct about that. She's not going to like this."
Dani's security buzzer went off, and she rang the cops into the building. A few minutes later, two uniformed officers entered the apartment.
While Dani was talking to the officers, he searched on his phone for a locksmith and found one that was open twenty-four hours a day. He made a call, happy when the locksmith said he could be there in ten minutes. True to his word, he arrived just as the police were leaving.
"Why don't you pack a bag and come with me to the hotel?" he suggested to Dani while the locksmith put on a new lock.
"I'll be fine once I can lock the door again," she said. "I'd rather just stay here. And who knows what's happened at your hotel? Your room could look like this one."
"You have a point. All right. I'll stay here with you then."
"Patrick, no," she said with a frown.
"I'm not leaving you alone after what happened. I'll sleep on the couch."
Dani didn't answer; her attention was drawn to the locksmith, who told them t
hat the new lock was good to go.
"Thanks," she said, signing the receipt after providing her credit card information. "I appreciate you coming out so late."
"That's what I do," the man said. "Take care."
"I will." She shut the door and turned the new dead bolt into place.
Patrick put the couch cushions back together and sat down. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out his feet on the coffee table, making it clear he wasn't leaving.
Dani walked back to the couch. "You really can go back to your hotel."
"I'm staying. We can argue about it all night if you want." He paused, wondering if something else was bothering her. "If you're worried that you can't trust me, Dani—"
She shook her head, cutting him off. "I'm not worried about that."
"Really? Because we were fairly combustible earlier tonight." It seemed like a very long time ago that they'd been caught up in each other's arms. But now that they were alone again, he was reminded of just how intense and amazing those few moments had been.
"We don't need to talk about it."
"We don't?"
She sat down at the far end of the couch with a frown. "Well, maybe we do."
"That was a fast turnaround."
"I feel like we should clear the air. I can't deny that there's something between us, Patrick. Obviously, there's an attraction."
"A very strong one," he agreed.
"But that said, I don't want to take it any further."
He felt enormously disappointed by her words. "I understand. Too bad, though. It's not that often I feel such a draw to someone."
Her green eyes glittered. "I know. It's kind of rare."
"Something to consider," he pointed out.
"I'm all about my job right now. And you're on a quest for the truth about your mother. We both need to focus on what's important to us."
"I suppose. We could say we're just putting things on hold then…"
She sighed. "Fine. A super long hold that may last forever."
"I'll take it."
She looked around the room. "This is going to take some cleanup."
"I'll help you."
"I don't want to do it tonight."
He was happy to hear that, because he didn't want to do it, either. "Why don't you take off your shoes, sit back and relax?"
"I should go to bed."
Despite her words, he could see how amped up she was. "You're wired; so am I. Let's talk for a bit. Let the adrenaline burn off. I'm sure I'll bore you to sleep pretty fast."
She gave him a dry smile. "You've been anything but boring so far, Patrick."
"Give me a chance."
She took off her shoes and sat back on the couch, curling her legs up under her as she turned sideways to face him. "Tell me about your childhood then. What did you like to do? What were your hobbies? Were you good in school, always getting straight As, or were you a rebel, driving fast cars, cutting class, and smoking cigarettes in the parking lot?"
He smiled at the questions, happy that some of the panic and angst had left her voice. "I was just an average kid. I got decent grades. School came fairly easy for me. I was probably a little lazy at times. If I didn't see the point to an assignment, I had a hard time doing it, and there were a lot of pointless assignments in high school."
"I bet the teachers loved that attitude."
"I eventually did the assignment, but sometimes half-assed. Dissecting the meaning of some poem just didn't matter to me. Would we ever really know if the poet meant the light to mean an actual lamp or an inner emotional brightness?"
She laughed. "Poetry is supposed to make you question things, look beyond the words to the meanings. Surely, as a writer, you can appreciate that."
"I can appreciate that poetry is not for me," he said with a grin.
She smiled back at him. "So, not the most intense high school student, which surprises me a little. I've seen how determined you can be to get to the bottom of something."
"I don't do anything that matters to me half-assed."
"Just poetry."
"And a few other things. Getting back to your other questions. I did like to drive fast in high school. Still do. I definitely was not smoking in the parking lot. However, I might have made out there a few times."
A knowing gleam appeared in her eyes. "That doesn't surprise me. With your looks and confidence, I'll bet you were very popular."
"I also played football. That came with some nice perks, like pretty blonde cheerleaders."
"Let me guess—you were the quarterback."
"I like to call the plays," he admitted.
"Did you ever get hurt?"
"I had two concussions. Back in my day, people weren't as concerned about them as they are now. I'm lucky mine were mild. Hopefully, they didn't screw up my brain too much."
"Would you let your kid play football?"
"Whoa—we're jumping to kids now?"
"Just curious," she defended. "You're the one who wanted to talk."
"Fine. I don't think I'd encourage my child to play football knowing what I know now about the sport. Unless, of course, he really wanted to. I wouldn't want to stand in the way of my kid's dream." He cocked his head to the side, studying her face. "Let's talk about you. I'm not thinking sports for you."
"Why? Do I look un-athletic?"
"I just think you'd consider running after a ball a waste of time."
"I played soccer for a while, but I didn't love it, and it took too much of my time."
"Wait a second," he said, suddenly realizing who he was talking to.
"What did I say?" she asked with an arch of her eyebrow.
"It's what you didn't say. You were a pretty blonde cheerleader, weren't you?"
A wave of pink swept her cheeks. "Possibly."
"I knew it."
"I liked to dance. It was fun. And I liked to wear the outfit," she said.
"I bet you looked good in it."
"I did," she said, cockiness in her gaze. "I had great legs."
"You still do."
"But I did more than cheerlead," she continued. "I was also class president."
"Impressive. Your love of politics started early."
"It did. I liked being in the thick of things, in a position to make things happen."
"That experience might come in handy down the road when you stop working for the senator and start working for yourself."
"I need a lot more than high school experience before I'd run for an office."
"But that's what you want, isn't it? That's the end goal?"
"I honestly don't know. I think so, but I have to admit that since I got to DC, things haven't gone exactly as I imagined. There's more maneuvering, backroom deals, political spin…"
"And that surprised you?"
"I was more insulated in Texas. The senator wasn't even in the office half the year. It was easier to concentrate on the work." She stretched out her legs and stood up. "I'm going to make some tea. Do you want some?"
"Sure. Do you have any food?"
"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "You didn't eat at the gala? There was a tremendous spread."
"That was hours ago."
She walked into the kitchen, and he could hear her foraging around in the fridge. "I can do grilled cheese with tomatoes," she said.
"I'll take it." He got up from the couch and wandered into her small kitchen. "In fact, I'll make it," he added. "I'm an expert at grilled cheese."
"I don't know if I'd be bragging about that."
He laughed. "Good point. I should save the boasting for something more important."
"Let me ask you this: is there anything you don't do well, Patrick?"
He thought for a moment. "I'm not good at walking away—even when I should."
His words stole the smile off her face. "I used to be good at that," she said. "I used to have better tunnel vision. That seems to be changing."
"Because of me?" he asked quietly.
She gave him a long look, and suddenly, the kitchen felt a lot smaller. He'd promised to behave, but that was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Maybe," she said. "But I am walking away now. You cook. I'm going to change my clothes."
As she moved past him, he caught her by the arm. "One kiss." It was an impulsive request based on the fact that his body was desperate for her touch.
She shook her head, determination in her green eyes. "It wouldn't stop at one." She slipped out of his grip. "Focus on your grilled cheese. I want to be impressed."
"All right. I won't let you down."
She met his gaze. He was talking about more than the grilled cheese, and she knew it.
But all she said was, "I hope not."
Eleven
An hour later, Dani was finally starting to feel sleepy. Her stomach was full after she'd eaten one of the most delicious grilled cheese sandwiches she'd ever had. Patrick had definitely backed up his boast. Now they were sitting on the couch, sipping the last of the chamomile tea. Aside from that one moment in the kitchen when he'd wanted a kiss, he'd respected the boundaries she set, and it had been nice to just talk to him about nothing important. It was all still simmering in the background, but it felt good to let it go for a few minutes.
She knew she should get up and go to bed, but she was a little afraid that in the dark of the night, some of the fear from the last few hours would come back. While nothing had been stolen, her private space had been invaded. Someone had gone through her things, touched her personal items, and looked in her drawers. She didn't know if she'd ever feel the same way about her apartment again.
"Stay with me, Dani," Patrick said.
She started. "What?"
"Your thoughts are taking you away, and judging by your expression, you're not going anywhere good."
"Good guess. It's late, and I have to get up in a few hours to go to work. I really should go to bed."
"You'll be safe. I'm staying right here."
"I do appreciate that," she admitted. "I don't think I'd sleep if I were here alone."
"I'll be here when you wake up."
She nodded, wishing she wasn't starting to like him so much. The physical attraction had been instant, but now there was a growing emotional attachment, too. He was sexy as hell, but he was also smart and funny. His love for his family and his pursuit of the truth in the face of danger made him even more attractive.
Summer Rain (Lightning Strikes Book 3) Page 13
