Married to the job, he thought. He grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and poured himself and Holly some tea. He settled onto the couch in the living room and closed his eyes. Sleep would come easily right now. He thought about Holly and her brush against him in the car. Had it been an overture, an invitation? He supposed it could’ve been by mistake, but in his experience, women were acutely aware of that type of contact. It didn’t take much to send the wrong signal to men. He wasn’t presumptuous enough to believe she had given him a green light for anything more than a snooze on the couch, which was looking more and more likely the longer he sat here with his eyes closed.

What a draining twenty-four hours. He ran the events through his mind. The helicopter ride into Sacramento. The ride out to the farmhouse. Henning’s challenging and arrogant attitude. The Bridgestones’ cousins’ dog-and-pony show under interrogation. The buried cash. The long ride into the mountains with Holly. James Ortega’s charred body. The SWAT raid at the farmhouse. The second tunnel. The dead surveillance techs and cousins. And the Bridgestones’ knowledge of Nathan’s involvement. What else might they know? He closed his eyes and sighed. The four hours of sleep he’d gotten earlier seemed like decades ago.

Chapter 10

Chapter  10

“Nathan?”

He looked around. Holly’s living room. She stood a few feet away.

“How long?” he asked.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes, not too deep. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I checked on you ten minutes ago and saw you’d dozed off. I didn’t want to wake you. I have a spare bedroom if you want a bed.”

He waved a hand at the floor. “Do you care if I stretch out in here?”

“On the floor?”

He shrugged.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble setting you up in the spare bedroom.”

“I’m good right here, thanks.”

“At least let me put some blankets down, that wood is like concrete.” She returned half a minute later with an armful of blankets and a quilt.

Nathan picked up the coffee table and moved it aside. He didn’t want to drag it across the oak floor. Then he helped her spread the blankets out.

“Do you sleep on the floor very often?”

“I usually end up there by morning, so I may as well start there.”

“Bad dreams.”

He nodded. “It’s just something I’ve gotten used to over the years. It’s no big deal.”

“I know I keep saying this, but I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

“I’m just a guy.”

“No, you aren’t just a guy. Trust me on that.”

“We had a hell of a day.”

She took a step forward and took his hand. “Yes, we did. It doesn’t have to end just yet.”