Page 73 of Walking the Edge


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One customer left. Forty minutes later, the clerk took the cell-phone guy outside to find his car, leaving them alone. This is your chance. Tell him now.

She tossed a hot-rod magazine on the table and walked to the dusty window. Not exactly stalling. More like loosening up. “I saw you looking back at the street when we got here.” Outside, the clerk and the customer disappeared behind a red delivery van. “You think someone could have followed us?”

“Never hurts to check your back.” Mitch stretched his long legs and crossed his ankles. Lucky him, his pants looked dry. “But I figure at this hour, the drug dealers are sleeping.”

“We hope.” She stared out at the lot. The sun continued to beat down on the empty street entrance. Nothing new there. “Who do you think is the ‘big boss’ they mentioned?”

“Their supplier. The criminal with connections to smugglers.”

“My brother had to have been a minor customer for them.” She turned around to look at him sitting there so calmly. Looking at his phone. Did he even relate to what she said? “A college kid on scholarship doesn’t have piles of money.”

Mitch stowed his cell. “When we find him, he can tell us.”

“The big boss?”

“Your brother. No way am I looking for some drug lord.” Mitch straightened the stack of magazines. “I’m glad he was smart enough not to show.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Why don’t I believe that?”

“It was so black under the eaves, imagine how hard it would have been to communicate with him.”

“I could have signed to him.”

“I know, but I could hardly see your face, or anyone else’s, much less their hands.”

“You’re right.” Every time she turned around, she discovered how much more Mitch perceived. And how smart he was. Maybe she should keep her mouth shut and let the temptation of a next time simmer between them. That’s what she wanted, but that would be unfair.

Cath clutched her lucky charm. “We need to discuss something else before too much more time passes. Anything can happen, and I want to be fair.”

Maybe she should leave things alone. Talking about her feelings might make working together harder. Like when she’d instituted the no-touching rule.

He met her gaze, his brows creasing. “Care to give me a hint what this is all about?”

How could he not have a clue? She sat one seat away and took a deep breath.

The door opened, and the cold air inside rushed past her on the way to warmer climes. One of the lot attendants clomped in and glanced at them. Mitch held up his number, and the man jerked his chin toward the counter.

“We’ll talk later.” Mitch laid a hand on her shoulder. “Let me get my truck first.”

* * *

Gravel crunched under his tires. Mitch exhaled a deep breath and pulled to a stop outside his aunt’s back door. Cath turned around in her seat and stared at the house, chewing a fingernail. He released his seat belt. “No one followed us, in case you’re wondering.”

“I don’t feel safe yet.”

“Neither do I. We need to keep a lookout until Detective LeNoux makes an arrest.” Mitch hauled a white paper bag into his lap. “But we’re home now.”

The aroma of grilled meat made his head swim. He unwrapped his hamburger and chewed a bite, waiting. Something had been bugging Cath ever since they’d caught the taxi from the inn. Since he expected a discussion about him and her, he’d been stalling her all day. He didn’t consider relationships conversation gambits, but he had not had the time earlier either. What she’d said so far—not much—sounded like a heavy-duty convo in the making. He’d wanted to be able to listen. Now he finally could.

Her seat belt swooshed into its keeper. “Why are we eating in the driveway?”

“You wanted privacy. We’re alone. The yard is empty. This is as private as we’ll get.” He rattled the paper bag in her lap. “If I hadn’t been a doofus and parked in a tow-away zone, we could have had breakfast. You didn’t even get coffee.”

“I was actually standing right next to the coffee urn too.” She filled the car with another wonderful greasy smell and chewed a bite of her sandwich. “But I got to talking to the manager about putting some of my brochures in the lobby.” She raised a hand to a yawn. “But you could have drunk a cup while waiting on the porch for the cab.”

Not true. Mitch twisted his lips. He’d been too busy flashing back to an IED explosion after a car backfired in the street. The only good thing he could say for today was that Cath had been inside then and hadn’t witnessed his panicked reaction.

“I intend to reimburse you for the tow-away fine. When I get my business reopened.”

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