Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [55]
“You’ll keep me in the loop?” Evan asked Sean.
Sean nodded. “Leave your card with your numbers on it—one for me, one for my secretary.”
Evan peeled two cards from his wallet and handed them over. “At the first sign of something not being right—the first time something doesn’t feel right—she’s out of here, agreed?”
He stuck out his hand. This was more than an agreement between two law enforcement agents and they both knew it.
“Agreed.” Sean shook Evan’s hand.
“Go on then.” Amanda pointed at the phone reluctantly. “Make the call.”
Sean finished dialing the call, and after a brief conversation, hung up the receiver. “Greer said she’d love to have you stay. She’s happy to have the company, since her husband is going to be out of town at a sales meeting for most of the week and she doesn’t like to stay alone in the house.”
“Great,” Amanda said with more enthusiasm than she felt.
“All right, but you call me if you need me,” Evan insisted. “Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t go anyplace alone, don’t—”
“I’m going to be fine, and I’m not going to do anything stupid.” She hugged him. “Go on now. Get back to Lyndon and get yourself packed to leave for Virginia tomorrow. Don’t worry about me. Just go and do your training thing.”
“Right.” He kissed her on the cheek, then nodded to Sean on his way out of the room, pausing for one moment in the doorway. “Anything at all . . .”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Sean assured him.
“I’ll need to go to my house to get some things. Clothes, my toothbrush, you know,” Amanda said after Evan left.
“I’ll drive you.”
“I’ll need to get my car. It’s still out at St. Mark’s.”
“We’ll leave it there for the time being. You’re not going to be going anyplace alone, and if it’s parked anywhere else, it will be a clear sign to anyone who’s looking for you. Oh, before I forget, wait just a minute. . . .”
He walked into the hall, and Amanda could hear his footsteps fade slightly. Minutes later, he returned, her gun in his hand.
“I really have no reason to keep this.” He handed it over to her. “I’m sorry, Amanda. I should have returned it to you sooner.”
“You just did it again. That makes twice today.”
He tilted his head to one side, puzzled.
“You called me Amanda. You’ve always been so careful to address me as Ms. Crosby.”
“Oh. Well, you’re not a murder suspect anymore.”
“Good to know.” She tucked the gun into her purse. “If I’m not a suspect anymore, do I get to call you Sean?”
“Sure.”
“You’re very serious about your job, aren’t you?”
“It’s the most important thing in my life.”
“More important than your family?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“I have no family, other than my sister.” He held the door for her and gestured for her to walk through it, adding, “And I really don’t even know her.”
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
If Amanda had been put in a room with a hundred other women and told to pick out Sean Mercer’s blood relative, Greer Kennedy would have been guess number one hundred. Where Sean was tall and dark, Greer was petite and blond. Where more often than not his facial expression was somewhere between scowl and skepticism, Greer’s was cheery and open, and she exuded a generally happy nature that her brother seemed to lack.
“I’m so sorry about your friend.” Greer met Amanda in the driveway outside her home with a hug that was both welcoming and sympathetic. “What a terrible thing. Now, you come right on in here and, Sean, you bring her bag. Don’t make her carry that. . . .”
“Oh, it’s okay, I can—” Amanda reached for the bag she’d dropped when Greer had first embraced her.
But Greer had already taken her arm, and Sean had picked up her bag, so Amanda permitted herself to be led inside of the little house that was every bit as cheerful as Greer herself.
“Your home is so lovely.” Amanda stood in the entry, from where she could see the dining and living rooms, both of which were painted in rich jewel