Daina laughed, but it was the lightest of exhalations.
Emma reached up, turned off the lamp beside the sofa. In the darkness, she slid down a bit, then draped her arm over Daina, her lean body fitting warmly against her. Daina felt hugely comforted and completely comfortable. She knew she could sleep this way.
And that was how they spent the remainder of the night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
When Emma woke up, the brightness of the sunlight suggested it was perhaps eight A.M. or so. Daina stirred. Emma remained as she was, her arm still draped over her, loath to move and disturb her if she was merely shifting and not waking. She felt a niggling sense of worry, and for the first time allowed herself to wonder what, in the grand scheme of things, the significance of the night’s events might be. Considering that what she had done was completely unorthodox and unprecedented, it was foolish to think her actions would hold no significance whatsoever. Still, she could hope there would be no serious repercussions.
“Emma?” Daina whispered. “Are you awake?”
Emma smiled slightly. “Mmhmm.”
A pause, then in a voice slightly above a whisper, “Did you sleep?”
Emma gave a slight shrug. “Sort of.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
They kept their voices low, as if unwilling to disturb either the peace that surrounded them or the new and tenuous bond that had sprung up between them.
And then Daina said, “I can make coffee.”
And Emma grinned. “I’ll be sure to let the media know.”
Her comment earned her an elbow in the ribs. “Brat,” Daina muttered, and proceeded to sit up.
Emma raised herself up on her elbow. She tried to look contrite.
Daina glanced back, saw the look, and narrowed her eyes. “Oh, don’t even,” she said, with something like mild disgust, shaking her head but grinning at the same time. She rose to her feet.
Emma smiled and watched Daina walk away. She moved to a sitting position. Well, I guess that means things are okay. That was easy. She felt a little disbelieving that the transition had occurred so smoothly. Either Daina was a great actor or she was truly untroubled or unaffected by what had transpired.
Emma ran her fingers through her hair. Okay, well, good. That’s what I wanted, isn’t it? It was. Up until this very moment, she hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted, needed things to be okay between them. She’d taken a huge risk without even realizing. It was unlike her and she didn’t know what to think of that. And she didn’t want to think of it, not right now, maybe not at all. This might happen to be one of those things that either stands on its own, or doesn’t. Daina, it appeared, was willing to let it be the former. For that, Emma was grateful, relieved.
She glanced at the clock on the DVD player. Two minutes after eight. Stretching luxuriously, she reflected that four hours spent in the same position was not factory recommended. She was stiff, her muscles cramped and tight. A visit to the pool was definitely in order. She rolled her shoulders a couple of times and then stood, glancing through the cut-away into the kitchen. Daina, true to her word, was making coffee. Emma grinned.
Looking up at just that moment, Daina caught the grin. She paused between scoops of coffee, smiled ever so slightly and then resumed what she was doing. Emma grabbed the blanket from the sofa and headed down the hall to her room, changed into her swimsuit and threw on her bathrobe. Making her way back to the dining room, she slid open the patio doors. Daina was nowhere to be seen.
“Emma?” Daina stood at the far entranceway to the kitchen.
Emma turned away from the doors to face Daina more fully.
“I wanted to thank you for…well, for last night. This morning.” Daina shrugged, shook her head. “Whatever. Just…thank you. What you did was probably the sweetest and most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. I mean that. So…thank you.”
Emma tilted her head fractionally. “You’re welcome,” she said gently, and said nothing more. As she stepped outside, it took a supreme effort not to look back; she could feel Daina’s eyes boring into her back, had seen the disappointment in her less than satisfactory response.
For the next twenty minutes, she swam hard. The technicians were due shortly after nine; she intended to make it her business to know exactly what was going on with the alarm system. That meant she’d have to cut her swim short. She meant to make good use of the time she had. Her mind was mercifully blank; she didn’t want to think. She cut through the water smoothly, forcefully, and felt her muscles limbering, loosening. She concentrated on nothing else. And when she gauged her time was up, she dove beneath the water’s surface and swam the last ten yards underwater.
She surfaced a foot shy of the pool wall and exhaled forcibly. Gaining her feet in the shallow water, she wiped the water from her face and saw Daina crouching at the edge of the pool, eyes on her, her expression intent.
“What?” she asked, confused by the look on Daina’s face.
Immediately, Daina’s features relaxed. “Nothing,” she said calmly, and held out the cordless phone. “Telephone. It’s your boss.”
“My—? Oh.” Emma realized she must be referring to Sergeant Michaels. “Thanks,” she said, as Daina gave her the phone.
“Don’t mention it,” Daina said coolly, rose to her feet, turned and strode back to the house.
“Emma? Michaels.” The sergeant’s voice was clipped, businesslike. “I’m just calling to touch base. I realize I haven’t called since Monday, but there hasn’t been any reason to.”
“I see.”
Monday had been an interesting day, Emma remembered. Maintenance workers had shown up to do the yard work, staff had shown up to clean the house, and a nurse had shown up to remove Daina’s staples. The nurse had also pulled Emma aside to advise her that while Daina was healing nicely, her complete recovery would take some time yet, and she was not to overexert herself. Emma had nodded solemnly at this, but inwardly had wondered at the degree of influence the nurse thought she had over Daina. A physiotherapist had also shown up for Daina, and every morning since. And, last but not least, Michaels had called and then made an appearance.
The reason for his visit had been, ostensibly, to check on them, ensure that they were comfortable, that they wanted for nothing. The real reason for his visit had been to pick up the lists of names they’d both been asked to provide. This was done surreptitiously, since neither was supposed to know that either had been asked to provide this. The subterfuge had rankled Emma; when he had come to her, she’d taken a certain uncharacteristic, mean-spirited pleasure in telling him she had nothing to give him, that she had come up completely blank. He surprised her by merely sighing and saying that Daina’s attempt had proven just as fruitless. A worthwhile idea, he told her, but a dead end. She had been further pacified when she was made aware that Daina would be allowed to call her parents, via cell phone. The only problem with that came up when Daina realized that using her own cell phone was out of the question; the roaming charges would have been astronomical. Emma had solved that quandary by offering her cell phone. Everyone was happy.
“The investigation is pretty much at a standstill at this point,” Michaels was saying now, “no leads, no fingerprints, nothing.” He added, “We’d hoped, obviously, that the two of you would come up with something to shed some light, but...”
Emma said nothing, but wondered why he’d even bothered to mention it. She knew he wasn’t trying to be an asshole, but the word still popped into her mind. She ran a hand over her face once more, removing droplets of water. She looked toward the house, but saw no sign of Daina.
“So…how’re things?” Michaels asked into the silence.
“Everything’s fine,” Emma answered smoothly. She glanced up to see the contrail of an airplane sketched across the blue sky above her. She almost longed to be that far away, that removed from her current situation.
“You two are…getting along?” F
or the first time, he sounded hesitant.
Emma felt a stab of annoyance. She closed her eyes, shook her head and took a silent, deep breath.
“Everything’s fine,” she repeated, focusing once more on the gauzy trail left behind by the aircraft.
“Look, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t.” Hardening her voice, Emma dropped her eyes and looked off toward the backyard. “Don’t apologize. I’m doing this because I have to. Not because I want to, or I think it’s right.” She spoke sharply and made an effort to rein herself in. “So don’t apologize. I agreed to it. Leave it at that.”
“Has she asked any questions? Are you—?”
Emma straightened abruptly. “Don’t,” she said tightly, clenching the phone. “You tell me what I need to know, I’ll tell you what you need to know. In case you’ve forgotten, I am not on duty, so don’t push me on this. Everything is fine. All right?”
“All right. Yes, okay, it’s fine,” he said quickly. He took a deep breath, then said, “I’ll call you when I know anything. Take care.”
She didn’t respond, just disconnected and then stared at the phone, jaw clenched. With a fair deal of self-restraint, she carefully placed the phone a foot or so from the edge of the pool. Turning abruptly, she dove beneath the water’s surface once more. Breaking through ten feet beyond, she swam an extra three laps in an effort to burn off her current frustration. It was a poor attempt to regain a measure of control that she felt was slipping from her like a handful of sand.
When she entered the house, clad once more in her robe, Daina looked up from where she sat at the dining room table, newspaper spread open before her, cup of coffee near at hand.
“That was short,” she observed.
“What?” Emma’s tone was sharper than she’d intended. She winced inwardly.
Daina narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “Your swim,” she clarified warily.
“Oh. Yeah. Well…” Emma pulled the screen door closed behind her. “The technicians are supposed to be here around nine. I thought I’d hang around them awhile, find out what happened with the alarm.” Crossing the floor to the far counter, she replaced the phone in its cradle, then reached for a coffee mug in the cupboard above.
“Do I need to be there?” Daina asked.
Emma glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. “I probably shouldn’t even be there. But I want to be.” She reached for the coffeepot and filled her mug, saying, “If you want, I can keep you informed. Not that they wouldn’t, but…”
She didn’t finish her sentence. She realized what she was saying, what she was doing, assuming the role of cop, slipping into it automatically, naturally, when she had no need to be doing so. And suddenly, she could see why she was doing it, could even see why she’d responded to Daina in the manner that she had when Daina had thanked her for last night. She was trying to distance herself. Without even realizing it, the closer she and Daina became, the more she was pulling back, behind a cool façade and a wall of professionalism.
Briefly she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together in a tight, thin line. That feeling persisted of being pulled in four directions at once. She grabbed a teaspoon from the drawer, reached for the sugar bowl, and dumped a measure of sugar into her cup. She stirred it vigorously.
“You okay?” Daina asked, sounding wary once again.
Emma hesitated, then took a deep breath. “Yes,” she said, stirring with somewhat less energy.
“Really.” Daina’s tone was flat, disbelieving.
Emma felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. She cast a look at Daina, one eyebrow lifted. “Why don’t you just say bullshit, if that’s what you’re thinking?” she inquired mildly.
Daina, sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed, looked unperturbed. “Well, that would just be rude, now wouldn’t it?” she returned, just as mildly.
Had Emma not been feeling so out of sorts, she would have laughed at that. As it was, her smile only quirked up a little further.
“Yes, it would be. Very.” She turned her attention back to her coffee as she considered her next words. Replacing her mug on the counter, she rested her hands on either side of it. “No, I’m not okay,” she said quietly, without turning. Having admitted it, she was left feeling a little bereft. It was a completely unwelcome feeling.
Daina asked gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Emma lowered her head slightly, staring at the counter, at nothing. “Not really, no.” She was trying hard to block out the emotional uproar that had started in her head and heart. “But I know I have to,” she finished quietly.
“Does this have something to do with Michaels’ phone call? What did he want?”
Emma shot her a sharp look. “He didn’t talk to you?”
A certain coldness stole over Daina’s features. “Nope,” she said, with a single shake of her head.
Emma’s mouth opened in disbelief. She looked away from Daina, back to the counter. “Fuck,” she muttered, stunned, disgusted.
“You’re angry?”
Emma jerked her head around again.
“How do you think I feel?” Daina’s tone didn’t change, which drove the point home far more effectively.
This time Emma turned and moved a step toward her. “That’s why I’m angry,” she said firmly. “This is absolute bullshit.”
“Well, I’m glad you feel the same way,” Daina told her. “I mean, I took the call, he asked for you. What am I supposed to do, insist he speak to me? I’m not going to play that game.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” Emma said. She glanced away briefly, then back. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t, please.” Daina’s expression was pained. “Don’t apologize for him.”
Emma wasn’t so sure that that was all that she was doing. But she couldn’t let her mind go there at the moment because Daina was speaking once more.
“Honestly, I thought if there was something I needed to know, you’d tell me. So I kept my mouth shut.”
Emma felt a horrible sinking sensation in her gut at those words, at the implicit trust so simply stated. And she thought, This is it, I have to tell her, tell her everything. And she actually opened her mouth to say what needed to be said.
And then the phone rang.
Emma automatically answered it, listened briefly and then hung up.
“It’s the security company,” she said, turning back to Daina. “They’ll be here in fifteen minutes.” She couldn’t get into the conversation now. She knew there had to be no interruptions, in all fairness to Daina. “Can we…continue this conversation later?” she asked her. “And whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you, okay?”
Daina blinked, looking perplexed. “Sure. Of course.”
Emma nodded, relieved. She left to take her shower, not realizing that in this instance, sooner rather than later would have been better.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The technicians’ arrival coincided with the arrival of Daina’s physiotherapist.
During the first half of the next hour Emma managed, for the most part, to avoid dwelling on the impending discussion. She could accomplish nothing by worrying about it. She could only hope that Daina would understand and accept her role and the reasons for her involvement. She had to admit to a certain amount of trepidation at the thought of coming out to her.
Emma was a private person and very protective of her privacy. She was afraid of doing the wrong thing for the right reasons, or the right thing for the wrong reasons. Her feelings for Daina and her feelings regarding her imminent disclosure warred with each other, creating a morass of confusion and consternation that made it difficult to concentrate on her reasons for hanging out with the techinicians.
After thirty minutes of listening to technical jargon and numerous tests of the alarm system, she gave up. She understood they were re-routing one of the circuits. As long as it worked the way it was supposed to, she didn’t care to know more.
She mad
e her way upstairs. Outdoors, poolside, Daina and her physiotherapist were working on muscle extension in Daina’s left leg. Emma didn’t allow her glance to linger. She headed to her room, gathered up an armload of laundry and headed back down to the basement. Quickly sorting through it, she felt something in the pocket of a pair of khakis and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. With a frown, she unfolded it. That damn letter. With a sigh of frustration, she tossed it onto the dryer. Don’t forget that, she told herself sternly.
“Um, excuse me?” a voice spoke up behind her as she pushed the START button.
The tech she’d spoken to earlier was standing in the doorway. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re going to implement a new security code,” he said. “You’re going to need to know what it is. Do you have a pen and paper?”
“Yes, upstairs,” Emma said.
Once there, he wrote down the new code. They ran a test; it worked fine. With everything satisfactory, the two technicians left.
Emma glanced outside once more. Daina was still busy with the physiotherapist. Feeling the need for a bit of muscle extension herself, Emma made her way to the spare room with its exercise equipment. The treadmill would do nicely. She was already clad in shorts, T-shirt and running shoes, so she climbed on, fixed the settings and began to run. She sorely missed running outside and wondered how long their forced confinement would drag on for. Not too much longer, she hoped, because it was beginning to wear on her. Of course, even bothering to hope was utterly pointless and she abandoned that line of thought.
She wondered whether Daina had even considered the fact that Emma might be gay. The funny thing was, Daina could have just come right out and asked her, and she wouldn’t have been surprised in the least. That seemed more Daina’s style, really. Instead, she regarded Emma with a calm scrutiny that was creating a growing sense of unease within her. She was glad she’d decided to get everything out in the open. Anything was better than walking this emotional tightrope. As that thought settled in her mind, she realized the truth of it. She suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted from her.
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