The trip back to Cave Creek was a long one.

Back at Bert’s, Greer waited in the car, and Jolie came upstairs with me to collect a nightgown, her toiletries and a change of clothes.

Russell greeted me with sleepy gratitude. If Nick and Chester were around, they weren’t showing themselves. God only knew where Tucker was and what he was doing. The apartment felt overwhelmingly empty.

Jolie paused, coming out of my bedroom with her things. “You’ll be okay here?”

I nodded, bit my lower lip. I wasn’t usually fragile, but, hey, I’d been through a lot in the past week. I felt like somebody who’d just been flung off some hyped-up merry-go-round, and my equilibrium was disturbed.

Jolie approached, touched my shoulder with her free hand. She balanced her stuff in the curve of her arm, deodorant, toothpaste and brush resting on top of the pile. “Greer’s not herself, Moje,” she said softly. “I’m trying to be more patient with her. Are you in?”

I grinned wanly. Nodded again. “I’m in,” I said.

“Be sure to lock up behind me,” Jolie said.

I followed her to the door, Russell at my heels, and stood on the landing until she was safe in the Pathfinder again. As Jolie and Greer drove away, I put on the chain and turned the dead bolt.

I was almost relieved when I turned around and found myself practically standing on Nick’s toes.

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“Long enough,” he said. He studied my face, his eyes thoughtful, and I knew he was getting a virtual tour of the inside of my brain. “I thought you’d be happier, once I scared my mother into forking over the life insurance money.”

I laughed, sounding a little raw, and shoved my hair back from my face with one hand. “I need tea,” I said. “Feel free to join me and sniff a few Oreos.”

He followed me into the kitchen, Russell trotting at our heels. “Your head is a real jumble. Lillian’s awake. Greer’s acting weird. And you wish you knew where the cop is, and whether or not he’s sleeping with his ex-wife.”

I thought hard about Lillian, since I didn’t want Nick viewing anything else that might pop into my head, especially where Tucker was concerned.

He sighed. “I’ve accepted it,” he said. “You’re boinking the cop.”

I whirled on him, in the kitchen doorway. “You didn’t—?”

“Watch?” Nick grinned. I was blushing like mad, and he clearly enjoyed my discomfiture. “Nope. Too much male ego for that. And give me credit for a little class, will you?”

“I forgive you. Go away.” I wrenched open a cupboard door, tossed him the bag of stale Oreos.

He caught them easily and chuckled, but his eyes were sad. “You really don’t want me to leave. You’re lonely and you’re upset and you figure I’m better than nothing. Admit it. I’m right.”