what my son needs.”
“That’s what McGee said,” she said as she stepped closer to the door. “You all enjoy your dinner. I need to go.”
“Can I talk to you alone for a minute?” He nodded to the bedroom door. “Please?”
Hand on the door, she looked between all of them before looking directly into his eyes. “No, you can’t. I’m completely talked out, a reporter’s curse, I guess. You know how to get in touch with me.”
With an apology to his family, she gave him a mock salute and left him alone with his regret.
* * * *
Jogging hadn’t calmed her down. She had no idea when life had become a complete mess or how she could stop it from getting any worse. Her wounded husband sat across town wishing she would disappear and wanting a divorce before anyone knew they were married. Sweet. She had a brother in Los Angeles she hadn’t seen in a few years, a sister here who resented her very existence. Beautiful. And let’s not forget the dead best friend who haunted her dreams every night with half of his head missing. Lovely. Then there was Sally’s last voice mail pleading with her to call back, but she’d checked her messages too late. Perfect. Now she had a human trafficking story being handed to her when she could barely concentrate. Fabulous. Oh yeah, and she owned an empty loft full of unfulfilled promises. Pitiful.
Squatting down, she released her puppy from its leash and let him chew on her finger for a minute before tossing a ball for him. She grinned at the simplicity of watching a dog catch a ball. Nice.
She’d bought her loft because of the proximity to the river running through downtown Denver. Although spring had yet to arrive, people cluttered the bike trail running next to the water. The buildings of downtown were on her left, the distant mountains on her right. She laughed out loud when Dude tripped over his own feet while running back to her with the tennis ball clutched in his jaws.
“Goofy dog,” she said, relaxing for a minute and forgetting about the drama.
“Did you find anything out today?” A shadow covered her and blocked out the setting sun. A quick glance upward showed a man in a suit, tie and sunglasses. “In the diner, did you stumble upon anything suspicious?”
“You’re suspicious, let’s start with that.” Pinpricks of warning darted over the back of her neck. She slipped the leash on Dude, held the ball in her fist and slowly stood. “Do I know you?”
“Take this.” He held out a key. “Gannon Construction has a site behind Saint Mary’s Glacier. You’ll find what you need out there.”
“I know you.” She squinted at him. “Who are you?”
“A friend. Take the key, Shane.”
From the new vantage point, she recognized him as a man she’d met a few weeks ago at the Governor’s Ball. Rourke? Something like that. A state senator, she thought.
She eyed the key with suspicion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
With a grin he grabbed her hand and folded the key into her palm. “You know what I’m talking about. A word of warning, Shane: you’re not dealing with amateurs here. You need to be more careful. Your reputation precedes you.”
“Stop with the games. I’m really not in the mood. Why don’t you get to the point?” She stepped back from him. Dude growled but hung close to her legs.
“I can’t be seen talking to you like this again,” he said. “And I can’t get more involved.”
“Maybe I don’t like being led around like a dog. Stop handing me hints. Take a walk with me.” Mind automatically clicked into work mode. “C’mon, Rourke. Walk with me.”
He pulled at his tie and looked around the bike trails winding along the river. “That’s not a good idea. Take the key. Do what you do. Find what you need. I can’t be involved anymore than I am. I have a family.”
Family. Her thoughts flashed back to Michael, Dalton, his
“That’s what McGee said,” she said as she stepped closer to the door. “You all enjoy your dinner. I need to go.”
“Can I talk to you alone for a minute?” He nodded to the bedroom door. “Please?”
Hand on the door, she looked between all of them before looking directly into his eyes. “No, you can’t. I’m completely talked out, a reporter’s curse, I guess. You know how to get in touch with me.”
With an apology to his family, she gave him a mock salute and left him alone with his regret.
* * * *
Jogging hadn’t calmed her down. She had no idea when life had become a complete mess or how she could stop it from getting any worse. Her wounded husband sat across town wishing she would disappear and wanting a divorce before anyone knew they were married. Sweet. She had a brother in Los Angeles she hadn’t seen in a few years, a sister here who resented her very existence. Beautiful. And let’s not forget the dead best friend who haunted her dreams every night with half of his head missing. Lovely. Then there was Sally’s last voice mail pleading with her to call back, but she’d checked her messages too late. Perfect. Now she had a human trafficking story being handed to her when she could barely concentrate. Fabulous. Oh yeah, and she owned an empty loft full of unfulfilled promises. Pitiful.
Squatting down, she released her puppy from its leash and let him chew on her finger for a minute before tossing a ball for him. She grinned at the simplicity of watching a dog catch a ball. Nice.
She’d bought her loft because of the proximity to the river running through downtown Denver. Although spring had yet to arrive, people cluttered the bike trail running next to the water. The buildings of downtown were on her left, the distant mountains on her right. She laughed out loud when Dude tripped over his own feet while running back to her with the tennis ball clutched in his jaws.
“Goofy dog,” she said, relaxing for a minute and forgetting about the drama.
“Did you find anything out today?” A shadow covered her and blocked out the setting sun. A quick glance upward showed a man in a suit, tie and sunglasses. “In the diner, did you stumble upon anything suspicious?”
“You’re suspicious, let’s start with that.” Pinpricks of warning darted over the back of her neck. She slipped the leash on Dude, held the ball in her fist and slowly stood. “Do I know you?”
“Take this.” He held out a key. “Gannon Construction has a site behind Saint Mary’s Glacier. You’ll find what you need out there.”
“I know you.” She squinted at him. “Who are you?”
“A friend. Take the key, Shane.”
From the new vantage point, she recognized him as a man she’d met a few weeks ago at the Governor’s Ball. Rourke? Something like that. A state senator, she thought.
She eyed the key with suspicion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
With a grin he grabbed her hand and folded the key into her palm. “You know what I’m talking about. A word of warning, Shane: you’re not dealing with amateurs here. You need to be more careful. Your reputation precedes you.”
“Stop with the games. I’m really not in the mood. Why don’t you get to the point?” She stepped back from him. Dude growled but hung close to her legs.
“I can’t be seen talking to you like this again,” he said. “And I can’t get more involved.”
“Maybe I don’t like being led around like a dog. Stop handing me hints. Take a walk with me.” Mind automatically clicked into work mode. “C’mon, Rourke. Walk with me.”
He pulled at his tie and looked around the bike trails winding along the river. “That’s not a good idea. Take the key. Do what you do. Find what you need. I can’t be involved anymore than I am. I have a family.”
Family. Her thoughts flashed back to Michael, Dalton, his
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