A renewed surge of panic—triggered, perhaps, by the whispered echoes of her co-workers’ remarks—made her say, instead, “Thanks, but not tonight. I’m really exhausted. I think I’ll just have a sandwich or something and turn in early.”
There was a brief pause, and then Wade spoke, obviously trying to sound understanding. “Maybe you shouldn’t have gone back to work today.”
“It wasn’t so bad. Just tiring.”
“Then why don’t I bring something there? Chinese? Barbecue? Chicken? Pizza? Anything’s better than a cold sandwich, isn’t it?”
“Thank you, Wade, but I’m really not too up to it tonight.” In many ways, she could have added, but remained silent.
The pause was longer this time, heavier. Apparently, Wade sensed that there was more to her reluctance to see him than weariness. Just as obviously, he realized that this wasn’t the right time to grill her about it.
“All right, then,” he conceded after another moment. “Get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Wade.”
“Emily, I...I’ll miss you tonight,” he said, sounding as if he’d abruptly changed what he’d originally intended to say.
“Good night, Wade,” she repeated, not knowing what else to say. And then she hung up.
She stood for a long time with her hand on the telephone. Something drew her attention to the grouping of framed photographs on the table nearby. Moving as if in slow motion, she picked one up. Studied it. Touched a fingertip to the face of the boy in the picture.
Lucas, she thought, ignoring the stern-faced man and unhappy-looking woman holding a smiling baby girl. He hadn’t been much older than Clay when this photograph was taken, but already he looked distant and angry. Only with Emily had he shown his tender side.
And then he’d left her without even saying goodbye.
How would he feel if he knew she was selling the house? Her father had left a will, leaving everything to her, making no mention of his only son. But Emily would have gladly shared what there was, if only she’d known how to contact her brother.
But she hadn’t heard a word from him since he’d left. Maybe he’d never given her another thought.
Lucas had left Honoria and its pettiness behind without a backward glance. Who knew how many places he’d seen since? How many adventures he’d experienced?
She put the photograph down with a thump. Ignoring both weariness and hunger, she pushed herself into action.
By the time she fell into bed at midnight, so tired her entire body throbbed and her mind was too cloudy to think, she had accomplished a great deal.
WADE KNEW he should have called Emily before turning into her driveway at nine-thirty Thursday evening, but something had told him it was better to show up without warning, as he had before. He’d had a niggling suspicion that if he’d called, she’d have talked him out of seeing her again that evening, just as she had last night...and that was a chance he hadn’t wanted to take.
He saw the curtain at the window beside the door flick when he rang the doorbell. Emily was checking the identity of her caller, something he hadn’t noticed her do before the break-in. While he approved of her heightened sense of caution, he hated the reason behind it.
Maybe the news he had for her tonight would give her back a small portion of the confidence that had been stolen along with her mother’s bracelet.
She opened the door partway. Apparently, she hadn’t been home long. She was wearing a long, floralprint skirt with a soft pastel blue sweater that brought out the color of her eyes and made his hands itch to touch her. “Wade? I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”
“We caught them,” he said, deciding direct confrontation was the most effective way to storm the emotional barriers she’d inexplicably erected between them since they’d made love.
&nbs
p; The door opened a bit wider. “You caught them?”
He nodded. “An hour ago. They’d broken into the Gellmans’ house out on Paradise Road. They knew the Gellmans were away this week, so they decided to help themselves to their stuff. One of my patrol cars was passing by checking on the place and the officers caught the kids before they were able to get away.”
“Kids?” Emily repeated with a frown.
“The O’Brien boy and his cronies. I suspected him all along, but until tonight there wasn’t enough evidence against them to follow up with a warrant. We’ve got him now. One of his buddies started crying and confessed to the entire string of break-ins...except for yours,” he added a bit reluctantly. “They all swear they had nothing to do with the hit here.”
Wade was tempted to tell her that the boys’ insistence that they had nothing to do with the break-in and attack on Emily had been so fervent that he’d begun to wonder, himself, if they were telling the truth. The doubt had nagged at him ever since he’d left the kids in the lockup.
But Emily suddenly looked nervous again, and he had a need to reassure her. “Then who...?”