Blake wouldn’t have left her. She didn’t know where he’d gone, or when he would return...but she knew he’d come back for her. He’d asked her to trust him. Against all reason, perhaps, she trusted him with her life.
She tried to be patient until he returned. She flipped channels on the television, searching for something to catch her interest, but nothing did. She thought wistfully of the unread novel on the nightstand in her apartment. She hadn’t been able to concentrate enough to enjoy reading during the past couple of weeks, but if she had it now, she could...
No, perhaps not. She wasn’t sure a hair-raising murder mystery would be something she should read just now.
Her attention fell on the duffel bag sitting at the foot of one of the beds. She doubted that Blake had a book in there. But she supposed it couldn’t hurt to look. She had nothing else to do. She didn’t think he’d mind, since he’d already given her access to his things.
She didn’t find a book. What she found, at the very bottom of the bag, was a stack of ID cards bound with a rubber band, all bearing photographs of Blake. Each card bore a different name.
It seemed somehow inevitable that he would choose that moment to return. She still had the cards in her hand when he unlocked the door and walked into the room.
“I was looking for something to read,” she said inanely.
Removing his damp hat, he glanced at the ID cards, apparently unperturbed by her snooping. “Find anything interesting?”
Mimicking his insouciant tone, she shrugged and stuffed the cards back into the bag. “Not particularly.”
Blake tossed his hat on the dresser and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll be glad when this rain stops,” he said. “A guy could drown out there.”
“Where have you been?” she asked, still trying to speak casually.
“Back to Atlanta to make some calls from a pay phone. I got the answering machine at your apartment, by the way. Either they’ve left the place, or they’re screening calls through the machine. Either way, it would still be unwise for us to go there.”
Though it had been less than twenty-four hours since she’d left her apartment, it suddenly felt like days. Tara thought wistfully of her clothes, her things, her own bed...and then she told herself to stop wishing things were different and concentrate on helping Blake.
“Did you have a good nap?” Blake asked, smiling. “You were sleeping so soundly when I left that I hated to disturb you.”
“Yes, I feel much more rested, thank you. You, um, might have left me a note or something, though,” she couldn’t help reprimanding him. “When I woke up and couldn’t find you, I wondered where you’d gone.”
He frowned, looking at her questioningly. “Surely you didn’t think I’d left you here?”
“The thought crossed my mind for a moment. Once I stopped to think about it, though, I knew you’d be back.”
“Thank you for trusting me,?
? he said quietly.
She shrugged, and changed the subject. “Did you find your friend from the insurance company?”
Blake’s eyes turned grim, letting her know that she wasn’t going to like his answer. She was struck for a moment by how quickly she was learning to read his expressions.
“I reached him,” Blake said flatly.
“And?”
“He didn’t know anything about what’s happened to us. He claimed he had no idea I’d been asked to delve into the Willfort robbery. According to him, there had been no reason to believe it was anything other than what Willfort reported to the police. And he’d never heard the name of the so-called insurance-company employee who contacted me.”
“Do you believe him? That he knew nothing about it, I mean?”
“Yeah,” Blake answered reluctantly. “I believe him. Which means I’ve been a total idiot.”
She immediately bristled on his behalf. “In what way?”
“I didn’t verify,” he admitted. “I always verify an assignment This time, I just took the caller’s instructions at face value and followed them without a qualm. Not only that, I pulled you into it without knowing what I was getting into. I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am about that.”
“You have nothing to apologize to me for. You’ve already said you had no idea this case would turn dangerous when you asked me to join you.”
“I just wanted an excuse to take you out,” he admitted, startling her. “I thought you could be my date at the gallery, give me a little cover for being there, and then we could go out for a nice dinner afterward. I didn’t expect to be at the gallery more than forty-five minutes or so—just long enough for me to meet my contact and let him slip me an envelope.”