Cold Pursuit - Carla Neggers [16]
But soon none of that would be of any concern to her. “I haven’t changed my mind,” she said. “I’m still retiring.”
“Sure.”
“I’m willing to give up the thrills for what Thomas can offer me.”
“No, you’re not.”
His sarcasm—his certainty—bothered her. “You don’t know me. You think you do, but you don’t. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to marry a man like Thomas.”
“One with a trust fund.”
“You don’t understand. I’m talking about my destiny.”
“Doesn’t matter right now, does it?”
He leaned toward her, and his eyes narrowed into slits, making him look more like the coldhearted killer he was. Part of Melanie expected the handful of well-dressed Washington elites at some of the other tables to notice and quietly exit the restaurant. But no one paid any attention to her or to Kyle.
“We still have work to do,” he said.
Her stomach lurched. She’d hoped he’d just used the threat as leverage to get her to focus on the Bruni hit, but his mind didn’t work that way. From the moment they’d met in the middle of the murder of her client, Melanie had been drawn to his straightforward simplicity.
She nodded, picked up her coffee, her hands steady now. She’d pushed back any irritation—any desire, even, at least for the moment. “Yes. I know.”
Nora Asher.
Melanie’s future stepdaughter was a spoiled, headstrong college dropout who was asking too many questions—questions that cut too close to the truth for Kyle’s comfort. Or hers. Nora hadn’t put together what she’d gathered on Melanie into a coherent whole that posed a danger to her or to Kyle—or their employers—but it could happen. With Bruni’s death, Nora could become emboldened, frightened, perhaps more determined.
And that was a problem.
“Nora’s just jealous of me. Thomas unconsciously looked to her for reassurance after Carolyn left him for Alex. Nora got used to being needed. There’s no reason to think she’s discovered anything that would get us in trouble.”
“She’s a time bomb.”
Melanie said nothing.
“Jo Harper is in Black Falls,” Kyle said.
“She’s from there.”
“Perfect cover. Send the hometown girl back to Vermont in damage-control mode and let her nose around.” He got to his feet. “One hour.” He eyed Melanie without a hint of a smile. “Enjoy your oatmeal.”
The desire returned stronger than that first tingle. Melanie trembled, hot now. Her waiter set a bowl of steaming, steel-cut oatmeal and a smaller bowl of fat, perfect blueberries and raspberries in front of her.
She smiled, thanked him, even as she thought she would melt.
“Your friend’s not staying?” he asked.
“No. Just leave the muffin, anyway.”
He set the plate on the table and retreated.
Melanie smelled the muffin’s sweetness, felt the steam from it.
One hour.
Using her fingers, she lifted a plump blueberry to her lips. She wouldn’t let anyone or anything spoil her life with Thomas. Not his daughter—and not Kyle Rigby.
He walked past the restaurant window without making eye contact with her.
“Don’t get in my way,” Melanie whispered.
It was as if her partner in killing heard her through the window. He paused suddenly, took a half step back and smirked at her.
She pretended not to see him and ate the blueberry.
Five
Jo unzipped her fleece jacket as she entered the breakfast-lunch café that her sister owned with two of her friends. They called it Three Sisters, in honor of their tight friendship. It was located across from the village green on the first floor of a graceful 1835 brick house owned by Sean Cameron, arguably the most charming of the Cameron siblings. Not, Jo thought, that it took that much to be more charming than A.J. or Elijah—or even Rose. And since Sean was a multimillionaire developer in southern California these days, Jo suspected he was as exacting in his own way as his siblings, just with smoother edges.
The café wasn’t crowded. It was late for breakfast and early for lunch. Jo was meeting her sister there after their five-mile run that morning, Beth