joke?” He frowned at her.
“You know—does your face hurt? Because it’s killing me.”
He laughed. “You think I’m that mean?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. A lot of folks in this town are.”
He pushed a stray hair back from her forehead. “Not me.”
He couldn’t believe how many colors danced in her eyes, even surrounded by pink, swollen flesh. Hazel eyes had always seemed sort of flat and uninteresting to him. But Laurel’s were green and amber, with a touch of blue and a few specks of an odd rust color. Fascinating.
His arousal stirred even more as he moved his gaze from her eyes to her mouth. Her lips were moist and looked infinitely kissable.
“Cade?” she whispered.
“Hmm?”
Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips and he felt a groan start deep in his throat. Suddenly, he realized just how close he was to kissing her.
He had a crime scene—another crime scene—to deal with. He needed to focus.
Besides, she was only here for the weekend. He could rein in his inconveniently raging libido for two days.
Right now, he needed to know exactly what had happened. “When did you notice the fire?”
Laurel moistened her lips. “When I came out of the bathroom, I smelled smoke and saw the flickering light. Whoever was in here must have started it while I was outside dealing with the car alarm. They didn’t have time once I came back inside.”
“So they set off the car alarm, sneaked in and started the fire while you were outside, then maced you when you came in, and ran.”
She nodded. “I think they were trying to find and destroy the pictures. Misty’s and mine.”
“Or trying to kill you.”
Laurel stared at him. “Kill me? No. I just got here. No one has a reason to kill me.”
“Think about it. Everything was fine until you showed up. You’re stirring up things someone wants to keep buried.”
“So you think I’m right about Wendell’s death?”
“I don’t know, but it sure looks like somebody’s trying to stop you from nosing around.”
“Oh! I need to check on my photos.” She turned and headed toward the back of the house.
Cade followed.
In the guest bedroom, she reached for the jacket she’d tossed across a chair and felt in the pockets. With a sigh of relief she pulled the pictures out. “They’re here.”
“I’ll put them in the evidence room.”
“So you do think I’m right about Wendell.”
He shrugged. “Whoever’s behind this is desperate. They’re risking lives to keep something quiet. These pictures could be the key. I’d feel better if they were locked up. Plus, it’d be nice if you weren’t attacked again before daybreak.”
She sent him a narrow gaze.
“Or ever, if I can help it,” he amended with a small smile. He took the pictures from her and slid them into a plastic bag from his pocket.
“Okay.” He looked at his watch and sighed. “Almost 4:00 a.m. I think we’ve had quite enough excitement for this weekend.”
“And this is just Friday. I’ve still got the reunion to get through.”
“Are you sure you want to stay? It’s obvious you’re a target. I’ve called Misty’s parents. They’re coming up from Florida this morning to take her home with them. You should consider going back to D.C.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not going anywhere. I believe Wendell was murdered, and I’m not leaving here until I can prove how he died.”
He sighed. “Well, Special Agent Laurel Gillespie, you’ve certainly stirred up a hornet’s nest. Get dressed. You’re going to have to come with me. You sure can’t stay here.”
She looked around at the mess. “I guess not.”
He picked up her jacket. “Here. Put this on.” He held it for her but she stopped.
“Oh, my God! I dropped my gun when I got maced. I tried to find it but my eyes were burning too much.”
“Where is it?”
“It should be somewhere in the foyer, but—”
“Okay. We’ll look.”
It didn’t take two minutes to realize that the
“You know—does your face hurt? Because it’s killing me.”
He laughed. “You think I’m that mean?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. A lot of folks in this town are.”
He pushed a stray hair back from her forehead. “Not me.”
He couldn’t believe how many colors danced in her eyes, even surrounded by pink, swollen flesh. Hazel eyes had always seemed sort of flat and uninteresting to him. But Laurel’s were green and amber, with a touch of blue and a few specks of an odd rust color. Fascinating.
His arousal stirred even more as he moved his gaze from her eyes to her mouth. Her lips were moist and looked infinitely kissable.
“Cade?” she whispered.
“Hmm?”
Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips and he felt a groan start deep in his throat. Suddenly, he realized just how close he was to kissing her.
He had a crime scene—another crime scene—to deal with. He needed to focus.
Besides, she was only here for the weekend. He could rein in his inconveniently raging libido for two days.
Right now, he needed to know exactly what had happened. “When did you notice the fire?”
Laurel moistened her lips. “When I came out of the bathroom, I smelled smoke and saw the flickering light. Whoever was in here must have started it while I was outside dealing with the car alarm. They didn’t have time once I came back inside.”
“So they set off the car alarm, sneaked in and started the fire while you were outside, then maced you when you came in, and ran.”
She nodded. “I think they were trying to find and destroy the pictures. Misty’s and mine.”
“Or trying to kill you.”
Laurel stared at him. “Kill me? No. I just got here. No one has a reason to kill me.”
“Think about it. Everything was fine until you showed up. You’re stirring up things someone wants to keep buried.”
“So you think I’m right about Wendell’s death?”
“I don’t know, but it sure looks like somebody’s trying to stop you from nosing around.”
“Oh! I need to check on my photos.” She turned and headed toward the back of the house.
Cade followed.
In the guest bedroom, she reached for the jacket she’d tossed across a chair and felt in the pockets. With a sigh of relief she pulled the pictures out. “They’re here.”
“I’ll put them in the evidence room.”
“So you do think I’m right about Wendell.”
He shrugged. “Whoever’s behind this is desperate. They’re risking lives to keep something quiet. These pictures could be the key. I’d feel better if they were locked up. Plus, it’d be nice if you weren’t attacked again before daybreak.”
She sent him a narrow gaze.
“Or ever, if I can help it,” he amended with a small smile. He took the pictures from her and slid them into a plastic bag from his pocket.
“Okay.” He looked at his watch and sighed. “Almost 4:00 a.m. I think we’ve had quite enough excitement for this weekend.”
“And this is just Friday. I’ve still got the reunion to get through.”
“Are you sure you want to stay? It’s obvious you’re a target. I’ve called Misty’s parents. They’re coming up from Florida this morning to take her home with them. You should consider going back to D.C.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not going anywhere. I believe Wendell was murdered, and I’m not leaving here until I can prove how he died.”
He sighed. “Well, Special Agent Laurel Gillespie, you’ve certainly stirred up a hornet’s nest. Get dressed. You’re going to have to come with me. You sure can’t stay here.”
She looked around at the mess. “I guess not.”
He picked up her jacket. “Here. Put this on.” He held it for her but she stopped.
“Oh, my God! I dropped my gun when I got maced. I tried to find it but my eyes were burning too much.”
“Where is it?”
“It should be somewhere in the foyer, but—”
“Okay. We’ll look.”
It didn’t take two minutes to realize that the
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