Always Look Twice by Geralyn Dawson Page B

didn’t love him anymore. Didn’t want him anymore. If he was too blind, stubborn, and hard-hearted to take what she had offered him, then it was his loss.
    Nevertheless, she had continued to wait. He was still her husband, and she was loyal to that.
    Until now.
    You had your chance, Callahan. You blew it.
    Annabelle took a business card from her desk and handed it to him. ‘‘Have your lawyer send the papers here. Now, I have an appointment I need to get to.’’
    His eyes widened ever so slightly. His jaw hardened. ‘‘You’re awfully calm about this.’’
    She arched a single eyebrow. ‘‘You would prefer histrionics?’’
    ‘‘No . . . no . . . of course not. I just thought . . .’’ He blew out a heavy breath. ‘‘It’s better this way, Belle. I can’t give you what you need.’’
    ‘‘That’s right.’’ She smiled coldly. ‘‘You can’t. And I can’t give you what you need.’’
    ‘‘I don’t need anything,’’ he protested.
    ‘‘Exactly. And I didn’t do anything wrong, which makes this whole thing easier. I’m clear, you’re clear, and we walk away. Clean and easy. Just like that Texas expression you used to say when we finished an operation—calf rope. It’s done.’’
    She picked up her purse and waited expectantly. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked to the door and stepped outside.
    Annabelle called upon years of training to conceal her emotions, to hide her breaking heart. This could well be the last time she ever saw him. He was leaving for good this time and she had to let go. She had to let him go.
    Calf rope.
    He stopped, turned around. His gaze locked on the blooming plants in her flowerpots, and his voice came soft and low and troubled. ‘‘Annabelle . . .’’
    ‘‘Have a nice trip home, Callahan. Have a nice life.’’ With that, she closed the door.

Chapter Four
    Seattle
Seven months later
     
‘‘Got ’em.’’ Mark switched off his computer and rose from his desk, satisfaction washing through him. Days like today were the reason he continued to work rather than spend all his time salmon fishing. The cyber-sting operation he’d developed at the request of an old friend who was now the police chief of a Denver suburb had gone off without a hitch. Tonight, a ring of child pornographers faced spending a big chunk of their lives in prison due in part to his efforts. Made a man feel good.
    He grabbed a beer from the fridge, then wandered into the living room of his downtown condo, where floor-to-ceiling windows provided a multimillion-dollar view of Puget Sound and the Olympic Mountains. Outside, the sun was shining and the breeze was gentle, so he stepped out onto the small balcony to enjoy the afternoon.
    He’d bought this condo, which occupied half of the thirty-second floor of the high-rise, after his dot-com investments had made him rich, but before he had separated from the army. He’d wanted a place far away from Texas and his father, and the Pacific North-west had felt right. Since he did the majority of his work on a computer, he could work from anywhere. His only real regret was living so far from his brothers.
    He sipped his beer and gazed out across the sound at the pleasure boats skidding across the water. If the weather held, maybe tomorrow he’d take the Sea Breeze out, catch a few fish, and call Matt to brag. Ordinarily this time of year, Matt and Torie would be traveling the world on one of their so-called Great Adventures, but this year they’d nested down in Brazos Bend to await the birth of their baby. Matt had been downright obnoxious about the good striper fishing at Possum Kingdom Lake of late when he and Mark had last spoken. He deserved to be score-boarded over pounds of fish caught.
    The landline in his office rang and he decided to let the answering machine pick up. Moments later, a woman’s tearful voice said, ‘‘Hello, Mr. Callahan. This is Frances Russo.’’
    Mark’s radar went on full alert. Russo called