His eyes lock with mine. In the depth of his gaze, I see a jumble of emotions, none of which I can read. The kiss that follows isn’t gentle. Yet I sense the fragility of the moment, something intangible slipping from my grasp even as something else settles more securely inside me.

“You’re wrong,” he tells me.

“Prove it.”

As he lowers his mouth to mine, I experience a fleeting sense of defeat followed by the realization that I’m no longer in control of the situation—or my life. That maybe I haven’t been for a long time and I was a fool to believe I could maintain that grasp. It stuns me to realize I’m willing to accept that. For the first time in my life, I’ve relinquished my heart and given someone else the power to hurt me. The thought terrifies me because I know there’s a part of him I don’t trust not to do just that.

Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Sleep is a precious commodity in the course of any homicide investigation, mainly because the first forty-eight hours are so crucial in terms of solving the case. I know better than to allow the things going on in my personal life to interfere with my job. But I have a feeling I’m not the first cop to let it happen anyway. Luckily, I’m pretty good at operating on little sleep and staying focused when I have other issues zinging around inside my head.

Tomasetti and I didn’t get much settled last night, not in terms of talking, anyway. We didn’t broach any of the topics I brought up. I didn’t ask for some magic solution and he offered none. We didn’t even talk about the case—and I would have very much appreciated his insights. Despite all of that, this morning I’m feeling optimistic that the kinks we’ve encountered will smooth out. I’m going to have to trust him and I’m going to have to be patient. Neither of those things comes naturally to me, so I’m going to have to work on them.

It’s 7 A.M., and I’m already buzzed on coffee and in that mental zone I find myself in when I’m embroiled in a case. In addition to the two homicides, I’ve been unable to account for Jerrold McCullough for nearly twenty-four hours. It’s possible he became frightened and left town. But I have a bad feeling in my gut.