He shook his head. “I think it’s better if you don’t know that, Gin.”

I nodded. Maybe it was.

“I also came here to warn you,” Donovan said in a soft tone. “Jonah McAllister is out for blood for whoever killed his son. He won’t stop until he finds the person responsible. One of my sources says he’s looking into everyone Jake had a problem with—including you. And Mab Monroe doesn’t think you died in the mine with Dawson. My captain got a call from her the other day wanting to know if we’d found any more bodies in the rubble. So watch your back.”

“Why tell me all this?” I said. “It’s not like you care. Not really.”

Not enough to stay. That’s what I wanted to say, to scream at him. But I didn’t.

Donovan shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I felt I owed it to you. The department’s already replaced me.”

“With who?” I said it more to say something than out of any real curiosity.

He shrugged again. “Some hotshot from Savannah named Coolidge. That’s all I know. A woman. Supposed to be a real go-getter. Just like you.”

Donovan stared at me again. His gold eyes burned into mine. Emotions flashed in his gaze. Longing. Fear.

Regret. Determination. For once, I softened my face and let him see what I really felt for him. Surprise flickered in his eyes, and for a moment, I thought it might be enough to change his mind. But then his face hardened, and I knew I’d lost him. I hoped Donovan Caine’s morals kept him warm at night because I never would again.

Not now.

There was nothing left to say. The detective nodded at me a final time, stared into my eyes a moment longer.

Then he turned and walked out of the Pork Pit, leaving my gin joint, my heart, cold and empty and aching.

35

35

I gave Violet and Eva their promised milkshakes, then kicked them out and closed down the restaurant for the night. Thirty minutes later, I was just about to leave when the phone rang. On a whim I picked it up, half-hoping that it might be Donovan Caine, calling to apologize or—something. Anything.

“Pork Pit.”

“Hello, Gin.”

Owen Grayson’s deep voice flooded the line. A pleasant sound, but I couldn’t hold back my disappointed sigh.

“Owen.”

“You don’t seem overjoyed about hearing from me,” he said.

“What do you want?” Maybe I should have been nicer, maybe I would have been nicer if not for Donovan Caine.

“I just wanted to talk to you, see how you were, since you haven’t returned any of my messages,” he said in a mild voice.