museum.
And once Diego and his friends got here, did she tell him that either one or both of her employers might be a psychotic killer, or else a mannequin had moved all by itself? Even if he didn’t think she was the killer, she really didn’t want him thinking she was crazy.
That thought made her smile fade as she looked at Ben and Trisha.
“Any more news on the couple who were killed?” she asked.
“The police are still withholding identification pending notification of next of kin,” Ben said. “But the town is buzzing with speculation. Scarlet,” he said, clearly upset, “I saw them. I saw those pictures, and then I saw
them
. I have to admit, it’s unnerving to think about something like that happening right here on the ranch.”
“It can’t have anything to do with us,” Trisha whispered.
“No, of course not,” Ben said. “But I’m a grown man and I have to say, I’m glad I keep a gun in the house, because I’m more than a little scared.”
So am I
, Scarlet thought.
But Diego was coming, and he would find a way to make everything right.
Now, looking at Ben’s stricken expression, she decided she had to be crazy to think he and Trisha could have had anything to do with the deaths. And if they were after her, they could have killed her at any time.
Like the person who had moved the mannequin. That person could have killed her last night if he’d wanted to.
Unless the mannequin
had
moved on its own.
Okay, she told herself, that was enough of that. If she kept thinking along those lines
she
would start thinking she was crazy.
Diego and his friends would be there soon. All she had to do was hold on until then.
“I’ll make breakfast,” she said.
And then she fled to the kitchen to concentrate on creating omelets.
* * *
The minute Diego saw Scarlet come running out the door of the museum, eyes anxious and hopeful, he felt his muscles tighten, and an aching pulse began to pound through him. He wondered how things could have gone so wrong between the two of them when they’d loved each other so much.
Watching her run to him, blue eyes wide, chestnut hair streaming out behind her, he felt the same rush in his veins that he’d felt the first time he’d seen her. Her features were alive with intelligence, her movements the epitome of grace, even when fear, relief and a dozen other emotions were fighting for expression.
His love for her was as strong as ever, but she’d needed to leave him, and he’d never stood in the way of her happiness.
She’d gone through a miscarriage alone, while he had been on a case. In his defense, she’d never told him that she was pregnant. She’d been waiting for a special moment, a moment that had never happened, because he’d been so buried in his case. They’d tried to arrange a romantic evening, but somehow it had never happened.
And then it had been too late.
He noticed the attractive older couple who followed her out. He realized they must be Ben and Trisha Kendall.
Scarlet hurried toward the car, and he couldn’t help noticing that her jeans and a blue sweater heightened the color of her eyes, which looked as clear and pristine as the sky.
He stepped out of the car, determined to be calm and professional, to keep his emotional distance and remember that she had only called him because she was in trouble.
She wasn’t really in trouble anymore, he reminded himself; she’d been released. But the expression on her face told him that she was still upset about something, and he wondered what it could be.
To his astonishment, she threw herself into his arms.
For just a minute he allowed himself to pretend it was because she still loved him, and he reveled in the scent and feel of her. She smelled of the same shampoo she’d always loved, mixed with a light perfume. She was warm and soft, and it was the most difficult thing in the world to tell his body that this embrace wasn’t a prelude to more.
He held her tightly. She was trembling
And once Diego and his friends got here, did she tell him that either one or both of her employers might be a psychotic killer, or else a mannequin had moved all by itself? Even if he didn’t think she was the killer, she really didn’t want him thinking she was crazy.
That thought made her smile fade as she looked at Ben and Trisha.
“Any more news on the couple who were killed?” she asked.
“The police are still withholding identification pending notification of next of kin,” Ben said. “But the town is buzzing with speculation. Scarlet,” he said, clearly upset, “I saw them. I saw those pictures, and then I saw
them
. I have to admit, it’s unnerving to think about something like that happening right here on the ranch.”
“It can’t have anything to do with us,” Trisha whispered.
“No, of course not,” Ben said. “But I’m a grown man and I have to say, I’m glad I keep a gun in the house, because I’m more than a little scared.”
So am I
, Scarlet thought.
But Diego was coming, and he would find a way to make everything right.
Now, looking at Ben’s stricken expression, she decided she had to be crazy to think he and Trisha could have had anything to do with the deaths. And if they were after her, they could have killed her at any time.
Like the person who had moved the mannequin. That person could have killed her last night if he’d wanted to.
Unless the mannequin
had
moved on its own.
Okay, she told herself, that was enough of that. If she kept thinking along those lines
she
would start thinking she was crazy.
Diego and his friends would be there soon. All she had to do was hold on until then.
“I’ll make breakfast,” she said.
And then she fled to the kitchen to concentrate on creating omelets.
* * *
The minute Diego saw Scarlet come running out the door of the museum, eyes anxious and hopeful, he felt his muscles tighten, and an aching pulse began to pound through him. He wondered how things could have gone so wrong between the two of them when they’d loved each other so much.
Watching her run to him, blue eyes wide, chestnut hair streaming out behind her, he felt the same rush in his veins that he’d felt the first time he’d seen her. Her features were alive with intelligence, her movements the epitome of grace, even when fear, relief and a dozen other emotions were fighting for expression.
His love for her was as strong as ever, but she’d needed to leave him, and he’d never stood in the way of her happiness.
She’d gone through a miscarriage alone, while he had been on a case. In his defense, she’d never told him that she was pregnant. She’d been waiting for a special moment, a moment that had never happened, because he’d been so buried in his case. They’d tried to arrange a romantic evening, but somehow it had never happened.
And then it had been too late.
He noticed the attractive older couple who followed her out. He realized they must be Ben and Trisha Kendall.
Scarlet hurried toward the car, and he couldn’t help noticing that her jeans and a blue sweater heightened the color of her eyes, which looked as clear and pristine as the sky.
He stepped out of the car, determined to be calm and professional, to keep his emotional distance and remember that she had only called him because she was in trouble.
She wasn’t really in trouble anymore, he reminded himself; she’d been released. But the expression on her face told him that she was still upset about something, and he wondered what it could be.
To his astonishment, she threw herself into his arms.
For just a minute he allowed himself to pretend it was because she still loved him, and he reveled in the scent and feel of her. She smelled of the same shampoo she’d always loved, mixed with a light perfume. She was warm and soft, and it was the most difficult thing in the world to tell his body that this embrace wasn’t a prelude to more.
He held her tightly. She was trembling
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