“You have to understand, Kathryn, he was our son. We loved him.”
“And my husband. I loved him, too.”
“Where are you goin’ to?”
“Home,” she said. “Boston. Where I belong.”
“And I imagine,” he said, “that you won’t be comin’ back.”
“Michael told me once,” she said, “that there were two kinds of people in this town. Those who run things the way they’ve been run since the beginning of time, and those who let themselves be run. We were different, he said. Mavericks. We wouldn’t let that happen to us. Well, he was right. He escaped from this town the only way he could. Now, it’s my turn to escape. And you’re right. I won’t be back.”
He held out his hand. “Good luck, Kathryn. I hope you find your peace.”
She looked at the outstretched hand for a long time. “I’ve already found it,” she said. “Goodbye, Kevin.”
And she turned and walked away.
Raleigh-Durham International Airport was busy on a Tuesday morning, mobbed with business travelers, denizens of the academic and research worlds, and the occasional tourist, all of them rushing to get to their destinations. “Sugar,” Raelynn said, “I am gonna miss you so much.”
Kathryn returned her hug. “I’m going to miss you, too. How will I ever thank you for everything you’ve done for me?”
“I did my job,” Raelynn said. “And after that, I helped out a friend. That’s all.”
“Christ, I even got your mother’s house burned down.”
Raelynn leaned close. “You want to know a secret?” she said. “I always hated that house. I bought it for Momma, because she liked it. Why do you think I wasn’t livin’ in it?”
“I think you’re a bullshit artist of the highest caliber. But I love you for it.”
“I do, however, have one particularly fine bone to pick with you. I can’t believe you really thought I could have had anythin’ to do with that awful snake business.”
“I was running on fear,” she said. “I didn’t know who I could trust. Nothing was what it seemed.”
“Yes, well, I suppose I’ll have to forgive you. Maybe you can make it up to me somehow. Say, a couple of weeks in Boston during skiing season?”
“They’re yours. My house has plenty of room. And Elvis will be thrilled to see your smiling face.”
“That is the ugliest dog I ever saw,” Raelynn said.
“Beauty is as beauty does,” she said.
Raelynn looked past her shoulder, and suddenly her face lit up like Times Square at New Year’s. “Hallelujah, Jesus,” she said under her breath. Her smile broadened, and charm oozed out of every pore like rich, thick molasses. “As I live and breathe,” she said, “if it isn’t our own Chief DiSalvo. My word, Nicholas, you are a sight for sore eyes!”
Kathryn spun around, her breath trapped in her throat. He was dressed in jeans and a cotton plaid shirt, and had a black Nike duffel bag slung over one shoulder. “Morning, ladies,” he said. “And it’s private citizen DiSalvo. I resigned from my job yesterday afternoon.”
“What?” Kathryn said.
While her heart hammered double-time, those soft, dark eyes met hers and stayed there. “I gave Bucky a glowing recommendation as my replacement,” he said. “Told the city council they didn’t realize what a gem they had right there under their collective noses.”
Raelynn beamed. “And where are you flyin’ off to on this fine morning?” she said.
“Boston,” he said, his eyes never leaving Kathryn’s. “I’ve always had a hankering to see Boston.”
“Why, isn’t that just the most amazin’ coincidence? Our little Kat here is flyin’ to Boston, too.” Raelynn looked from one to the other. “Well,” she said briskly, “I can see that my presence here is no longer needed. Or even acknowledged. And on that auspicious note, I shall take my leave. Y’all can thank me later.”
And they were alone. Softly, Kathryn said, “How’s Janine?”
“She’s fine. Gave us one hell of a scare, though. She’s flying home tomorrow with her mother.” His voice softened. “I came to see you in the hospital,” he said. “Three or four times. But you were out cold, every damn time. You scared the hell out of me with that concussion. I thought I was about to lose both of you. And then, the minute you woke up, you left. You didn’t even say goodbye.”
“I thought…you and Lenore…”
“That was over with a long time ago,” he said. “I was married to her for fifteen years, Kat. She’s the mother of my child. There’ll always be feelings there. But I’m not in love with her anymore. I haven’t wanted anybody but you since the day you walked through the door of my office, wearing that flowered skirt and those sexy shoes.”
“Both of which,” she said wryly, “went up in flames.”
“So did I, the minute you walked through the door.”
She wet her lips, tried to think of something to say, but all the blood had left her brain. “We’ve only known each other for three weeks,” she said.
“A lot can happen in three weeks.” He set down his duffel bag. “I have an appointment first thing tomorrow morning with a Captain O’Sullivan of the Boston PD. He says he’s willing to take a chance on an old war-horse. I was hoping maybe you would, too.”
She went weak and fluid inside. She wondered if, when they were ninety, he’d still have the ability to do that to her. “Are you sure, DiSalvo?”
“You know what I want, McAllister? I want to take you ice skating, when it’s so damn cold outside that your teeth ache. I want to build a snowman in our front yard, and eat real Chinese food again. I want to walk the city streets and complain about rush hour traffic and fight for a seat on the subway. Most of all, I want to come home after a long day at work and find you there, waiting to rub my aching feet and fight with me over the remote.”
“Sounds incredibly romantic,” she said.
“There’s just one other thing I want,” he said. “Do you suppose we could honeymoon some place where there aren’t any telephones? Just once, I’d like to sleep beside you all night without getting dragged away to attend a murder. If it’s not too much to ask?”
She looked into those chocolate eyes. Nick DiSalvo was warm and sexy and smart. Not to mention stubborn, hot-tempered, and overprotective. And he was all hers, every spectacular inch of him.
Over their heads, the loudspeaker crackled to life. “Flight 1202 to Pittsburgh and Boston is now boarding at gate nine. Y’all have a nice flight.”
She held out an arm, looped it through his. “Come on, DiSalvo,” she said. “Let’s go home.”
About the Author
Laurie Breton is a USA Today bestselling author of romantic suspense. When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her two grown children and with her granddaughter, who is the light of her life. If you went looking, you might find her at the beach or attending a sidewalk art festival or walking the streets of Boston. Laurie lives in a small town in Maine with her husband, two lovebirds named Max and Pumpkin, and a twelve-year-old Pomeranian who rules the roost.
Laurie welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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