Even though I was thousands of feet away, Donovan Caine somehow sensed my steady gaze, the way people do when you stare at them long and hard enough. His head turned right, then left, trying to find the source of his unease. He said something to Grayson and headed in my direction. Donovan kept looking right and left at everyone he passed. I stepped farther out onto the edge of the ridge, so he could hopefully see me. The detective walked back through the mass of people and machines.

After a moment, Owen Grayson followed him. Probably curious as to what the detective was up to.

Donovan Caine was halfway across the basin toward me when he stopped and finally looked up. Our eyes met and held over the distance. Gray on gold. Owen Grayson reached his side and followed the detective’s line of sight.

He spotted me too. He actually smiled.

At least somebody was glad to see me, because Donovan Caine wasn’t. He tipped his hardhat back, and I spotted the frown on his face. The sight, his lack of happiness or even just some relief, cut me more than the rocks that had sliced into my feet.

I focused on Donovan Caine and lifted my bloody hand in greeting. The detective stood there for several seconds—immobile. Then he turned and said something to Grayson, who frowned and nodded his head. Grayson walked a few feet away and pulled out a cell phone. He punched in a number and spoke to someone, still looking at me.

Grayson finished his call and said something to Donovan, who nodded back. Then the detective turned and walked toward the entrance of the collapsed mine. He didn’t even glance back at me.

And it fucking hurt.

Donovan turning his back on me hurt far worse than anything Tobias Dawson had done to me in the coal mine. Or anything else I’d endured these last few hours.

But I didn’t have time to dwell on the detective’s harsh reaction because of Owen Grayson.

Grayson didn’t stay where he was, but he didn’t go back either. Instead, he walked closer to me, glancing over his shoulder every once in a while to make sure no one was too interested in his whereabouts. He stopped close to the bottom of the ridge where I stood, close enough now that I could see the grin that stretched across his features.

Too bad the smile was on the face of the wrong man.