“Oh.” He nodded. “All right. She got into your head.” That was not a good thing. “You let her into your head, Laurel. Why?”

“Because she zeroed in on my biggest fear. I am different and . . .” She looked out the window.

He couldn’t imagine what it was like for her to be so different from other people, then find out she had a sister just as unique, and then find out that sister was nuttier than a fucking fruitcake. “Well, considering I was inside you less than twenty-four hours ago, and that you were whispering my name in my ear as you came, I can promise that you are not a psychopath. You are warm and kind and a very safe place for a battered ex-soldier like me to land.” It wasn’t a love sonnet, but it was the best he could do. Plus, it was the truth.

“Oh.” Pink filtered across her face. “That’s sweet, Huck.”

“Take that back,” he said.

She chuckled. “I won’t tell anybody.”

“I appreciate that.” It was telling how much lighter his chest felt just because he’d made her laugh. “I don’t have any advice for you regarding Dr. Caine. The relationship between you is a battle of wits, and when it comes to the two of you, I’m unarmed.”

She laughed full out this time. “You’re much smarter than you give yourself credit for, I think. Notwithstanding your penchant for trusting ex-girlfriends who are journalists to play by the same rules you do.”

“Maybe.” He had good instincts and could figure out most people, but there was no way his IQ was the same number as Laurel’s. Of course, she’d once told him that an arbitrary number could never give a true measure of intelligence. That was a statement Abigail Caine would never have made. “You and your sister are as different as can be, regardless of hair and eye coloring. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Half sister,” Laurel retorted as he pulled to a stop in front of an expansive greenhouse. “Thanks, Huck.”

“Anytime.” He actually meant it. Interesting.

* * *

Laurel loosened her scarf as she met Haylee at the entrance of the greenhouse with Huck and Aeneas behind her. They’d look around, and the crime techs would fingerprint the place the next day, but she didn’t hold much hope that they’d find anything. “Thank you for meeting us.”

“Sure.” Haylee rocked back on her brown boots, her sandy blond hair in a ponytail. “I’m happy to help, and I should be honest. We’ve been looking for a greenhouse, and if this one is for sale or rent, I want it. That makes me a bad person, but the business is really struggling.”

Laurel handed the woman latex gloves. “That doesn’t make you a bad person. It’s a logical plan.”