stop them."
Craig stared at her, surprised by the vehemence of her reaction. Sometimes he talked to his brothers about his work. Except for Jordan , they were cops and they understood. Krystal never had. When he'd tried to talk about his work, she'd gotten bored. In her opinion the fools of the world got what they deserved.
Now, with the perfect vision of hindsight, he wondered what he'd ever seen in her. But he already knew the answer to that question. At twenty-two she'd been stunningly beautiful with a body that could tempt a saint. She knew how to use her best assets to her advantage, and for some reason, she'd set her sights on him. He hadn't been thinking with his head when he'd proposed. The worst of it was, he couldn't even regret what had happened between them. Marrying Krystal had been a mistake, but he would do it all over again if given the choice. The reward of his children wasn't something he could wish away.
"It's slow going," he said, and shrugged. "I'm working with a team of elderly citizens. We're mounting a sting operation."
She grinned. "I bet they're great to work with."
"They are," he agreed. "There's this one woman, Mrs. Hart. She lives alone. She's got to be seventy, but you'd never know it. She's been begging me to let her wear a wire." He glanced at Jill. "A microphone and tape. She keeps cruising around the seniors center and the bingo halls, hoping they'll pick her. I keep telling her she's seen too many movies."
"She sounds terrific."
"Yeah." His smile faded and he hunched over his beer. "I hope they don't get her. A couple of the accidents didn't go as planned. The timing was off, or the jerks doing this stopped too soon. A woman was killed."
"Oh, Craig." She reached across the table and touched his hand with her fingers. The light brush wasn't erotic. Nor was it meant to be. Instead, the caring gesture offered comfort and he accepted it.
"We'll get 'em. I don't usually do this kind of work, but the detectives needed some assistance and I volunteered. When the hours keep me away from the kids, I try to justify it by telling myself I'm doing the right thing."
"You are," she assured him. She pulled her hand away and laced her fingers together on the edge of the table. "Why a cop?"
"That's easy. I come from a long line of cops. Four generations on my dad's side. All my uncles – my dad was one of six. Two of my brothers. Jordan 's the only holdout. He's a fire fighter. We tease him about it." Craig took a sip of beer. "If you ask me, anyone voluntarily going into a burning building day after day is crazy."
"Some people would say that about what you do."
"Maybe."
The corners of her mouth tilted up. "So you're one of four boys, you have five uncles and three boys of your own. There aren't many girls in your family, are there?"
"There hadn't been one born in four generations. My brother Travis had a girl, though."
"Oh, progress for the female gender."
" Jordan has a theory that Haynes men only have girls when they're in love. If it's true, it doesn't say much about the last four generations of husbands. Or my marriage. Elizabeth – that's Travis's wife – says it's more about the female being predisposed to accept male or female sperm. She pointed out that she's one of three girls, and she comes from a family that mostly has daughters. I guess when Kyle and Sandy have their baby we'll know who's right."
Jill was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You look lost," he said.
"I am. All these names. How big is your family?"
"I have three brothers and Austin. He's family, but not by blood."
"Where are your folks?"
He didn't like talking about that, but it was a reasonable question. "My mom took off about fifteen years ago. My dad hadn't been much of a husband. He fooled around constantly. She took it for as long as she could, then one day she walked out. She didn't bother packing a bag or leaving a note. She just left. We never saw her again."
"If she didn't take any
Craig stared at her, surprised by the vehemence of her reaction. Sometimes he talked to his brothers about his work. Except for Jordan , they were cops and they understood. Krystal never had. When he'd tried to talk about his work, she'd gotten bored. In her opinion the fools of the world got what they deserved.
Now, with the perfect vision of hindsight, he wondered what he'd ever seen in her. But he already knew the answer to that question. At twenty-two she'd been stunningly beautiful with a body that could tempt a saint. She knew how to use her best assets to her advantage, and for some reason, she'd set her sights on him. He hadn't been thinking with his head when he'd proposed. The worst of it was, he couldn't even regret what had happened between them. Marrying Krystal had been a mistake, but he would do it all over again if given the choice. The reward of his children wasn't something he could wish away.
"It's slow going," he said, and shrugged. "I'm working with a team of elderly citizens. We're mounting a sting operation."
She grinned. "I bet they're great to work with."
"They are," he agreed. "There's this one woman, Mrs. Hart. She lives alone. She's got to be seventy, but you'd never know it. She's been begging me to let her wear a wire." He glanced at Jill. "A microphone and tape. She keeps cruising around the seniors center and the bingo halls, hoping they'll pick her. I keep telling her she's seen too many movies."
"She sounds terrific."
"Yeah." His smile faded and he hunched over his beer. "I hope they don't get her. A couple of the accidents didn't go as planned. The timing was off, or the jerks doing this stopped too soon. A woman was killed."
"Oh, Craig." She reached across the table and touched his hand with her fingers. The light brush wasn't erotic. Nor was it meant to be. Instead, the caring gesture offered comfort and he accepted it.
"We'll get 'em. I don't usually do this kind of work, but the detectives needed some assistance and I volunteered. When the hours keep me away from the kids, I try to justify it by telling myself I'm doing the right thing."
"You are," she assured him. She pulled her hand away and laced her fingers together on the edge of the table. "Why a cop?"
"That's easy. I come from a long line of cops. Four generations on my dad's side. All my uncles – my dad was one of six. Two of my brothers. Jordan 's the only holdout. He's a fire fighter. We tease him about it." Craig took a sip of beer. "If you ask me, anyone voluntarily going into a burning building day after day is crazy."
"Some people would say that about what you do."
"Maybe."
The corners of her mouth tilted up. "So you're one of four boys, you have five uncles and three boys of your own. There aren't many girls in your family, are there?"
"There hadn't been one born in four generations. My brother Travis had a girl, though."
"Oh, progress for the female gender."
" Jordan has a theory that Haynes men only have girls when they're in love. If it's true, it doesn't say much about the last four generations of husbands. Or my marriage. Elizabeth – that's Travis's wife – says it's more about the female being predisposed to accept male or female sperm. She pointed out that she's one of three girls, and she comes from a family that mostly has daughters. I guess when Kyle and Sandy have their baby we'll know who's right."
Jill was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You look lost," he said.
"I am. All these names. How big is your family?"
"I have three brothers and Austin. He's family, but not by blood."
"Where are your folks?"
He didn't like talking about that, but it was a reasonable question. "My mom took off about fifteen years ago. My dad hadn't been much of a husband. He fooled around constantly. She took it for as long as she could, then one day she walked out. She didn't bother packing a bag or leaving a note. She just left. We never saw her again."
"If she didn't take any
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