home, but he figured she’d tell him when she was ready. Vicki had gone to bed, exhausted by new motherhood, and left the two of them alone. He suggested watching a movie, not wanting the day to end. “Tigo, we need to talk,” she’d said.
He’d been right. “Sure, babe. What’s up?”
She walked into the living room and sat in a chair, not on the sofa where they normally planted themselves. No smile. What had he done?
“This must be serious,” he said.
“It is.”
“Tell me so I can fix it.”
“I hope you can.” She took a deep breath. “When were you going to tell me about your marriage?” Her gaze bored into his face, and he sensed her anger.
Heat rose from his neck. “When the time was right. Didn’t think it was important.”
“You and I were nearly killed. We’re friends and we’re in a relationship. That means honesty.”
Hard to trust his own heart with another woman after Erin’s betrayal … even a woman as good as Kariss.
“Tigo, I need an explanation.” Her voice was flat, cold.
“Who told you? Ryan or Linc?”
“Does it matter?”
“Are you looking for a reason to stop seeing me other than the church thing?” He’d flung the last two words at her.
Kariss blinked back tears. “Is that the way you see it? What else have you kept from me?”
“You’re not my wife, Kariss. We’re dating.”
“Not anymore.” She’d stiffened. “I’m finished.”
She’d stuck by her word. If Tigo could shove aside his ego, he’d see that she’d been right. Yeah, they had a few things to work out as they got to know each other.
The Christian thing was an issue. Tigo remembered his mother’s urging him to seek God. She’d married an unbeliever and ended up being left to raise Tigo alone. So much junk for Tigo to sort out … A future without Kariss meant diving into his work and abandoning those things he’d always wanted.
Solving crimes that centered on senseless murders only reminded him of the unfairness God allowed in the world. Tigo had become cynical, but he didn’t want to be.
3:00 P.M. THURSDAY
Writing Amy’s story consumed Kariss’s thoughts. She’d returned from Conroe, plugged in her laptop, and then decided to go for a three–mile run in hopes of reducing the adrenaline that zipped through her veins. Between Sergeant Hanson’s recollection ofAmy’s attack and a trip to the library, where she’d read the newspaper accountings, Kariss was definitely into Amy’s story.
Sitting at her computer now, she pushed aside the reality of a horrible cold case and focused on the craft of writing. She’d been in this place before when she fictionalized the story of Cherished Doe, the little girl found dead with no identity. The passion she had to defend abused children still stirred her heart. Always would. She understood why Sergeant Hanson couldn’t forget Amy’s case. She’d had her own experience with a child in danger.
While working at a day-care center during her college years, Kariss had tried to save a toddler who’d been trapped inside the building when it caught on fire. The little girl had died, and Kariss still bore the physical and emotional scars. A few months ago, she’d recognized the need to unpack the guilt and accept forgiveness—mostly of herself. Although she hadn’t been blamed for the child’s death, the idea that she could have done something more had stalked her for years. And she’d deserted God in the aftermath.
Sometimes she believed her issues had dissipated. Other times, like today when reading about Amy’s horrendous attack, the old memory tapes replayed. Perhaps Kariss hadn’t fully embraced what it meant to forgive and forget. What she did know was children deserved a chance to live normal, happy lives. When that didn’t happen, someone should be held responsible.
Shoving those thoughts aside, Kariss focused on Amy’s story and allowed possibilities and plot twists to mingle with her creative juices. The idea took a
He’d been right. “Sure, babe. What’s up?”
She walked into the living room and sat in a chair, not on the sofa where they normally planted themselves. No smile. What had he done?
“This must be serious,” he said.
“It is.”
“Tell me so I can fix it.”
“I hope you can.” She took a deep breath. “When were you going to tell me about your marriage?” Her gaze bored into his face, and he sensed her anger.
Heat rose from his neck. “When the time was right. Didn’t think it was important.”
“You and I were nearly killed. We’re friends and we’re in a relationship. That means honesty.”
Hard to trust his own heart with another woman after Erin’s betrayal … even a woman as good as Kariss.
“Tigo, I need an explanation.” Her voice was flat, cold.
“Who told you? Ryan or Linc?”
“Does it matter?”
“Are you looking for a reason to stop seeing me other than the church thing?” He’d flung the last two words at her.
Kariss blinked back tears. “Is that the way you see it? What else have you kept from me?”
“You’re not my wife, Kariss. We’re dating.”
“Not anymore.” She’d stiffened. “I’m finished.”
She’d stuck by her word. If Tigo could shove aside his ego, he’d see that she’d been right. Yeah, they had a few things to work out as they got to know each other.
The Christian thing was an issue. Tigo remembered his mother’s urging him to seek God. She’d married an unbeliever and ended up being left to raise Tigo alone. So much junk for Tigo to sort out … A future without Kariss meant diving into his work and abandoning those things he’d always wanted.
Solving crimes that centered on senseless murders only reminded him of the unfairness God allowed in the world. Tigo had become cynical, but he didn’t want to be.
3:00 P.M. THURSDAY
Writing Amy’s story consumed Kariss’s thoughts. She’d returned from Conroe, plugged in her laptop, and then decided to go for a three–mile run in hopes of reducing the adrenaline that zipped through her veins. Between Sergeant Hanson’s recollection ofAmy’s attack and a trip to the library, where she’d read the newspaper accountings, Kariss was definitely into Amy’s story.
Sitting at her computer now, she pushed aside the reality of a horrible cold case and focused on the craft of writing. She’d been in this place before when she fictionalized the story of Cherished Doe, the little girl found dead with no identity. The passion she had to defend abused children still stirred her heart. Always would. She understood why Sergeant Hanson couldn’t forget Amy’s case. She’d had her own experience with a child in danger.
While working at a day-care center during her college years, Kariss had tried to save a toddler who’d been trapped inside the building when it caught on fire. The little girl had died, and Kariss still bore the physical and emotional scars. A few months ago, she’d recognized the need to unpack the guilt and accept forgiveness—mostly of herself. Although she hadn’t been blamed for the child’s death, the idea that she could have done something more had stalked her for years. And she’d deserted God in the aftermath.
Sometimes she believed her issues had dissipated. Other times, like today when reading about Amy’s horrendous attack, the old memory tapes replayed. Perhaps Kariss hadn’t fully embraced what it meant to forgive and forget. What she did know was children deserved a chance to live normal, happy lives. When that didn’t happen, someone should be held responsible.
Shoving those thoughts aside, Kariss focused on Amy’s story and allowed possibilities and plot twists to mingle with her creative juices. The idea took a
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