didn’t want to think about the fact that her sister was gone. Everything that had taken place seemed surreal. As if she might wake up in the morning to discover this was all nothing more than a bad dream.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Both of us could use some time to rest and regroup.”
There was a long silence before Matt spoke again. “Duchess could use a few hours off as well, so I’ll find someplace to rest for what’s left of the night. I’ll report in to my boss first thing tomorrow morning.”
Since it was already nearing 2:30 a.m., she didn’t find that too reassuring. How many hours of rest would he give her? Five or six at the most?
Not nearly enough, but at this point she told herself to take what she could get. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The vehicle slowed and made a right-hand turn. She noticed that he’d pulled up to a motel with a bright Vacancy sign. She sat up straighter, keeping one hand against Rory, wondering if they had a crib available.
“This place will take cash from cops and they’re pet-friendly,” he said as he threw the gearshift into Park. “Two of my brothers are cops and have used this place to keep people safe before.”
Brothers? Plural? A sense of unease niggled beneath her skin. What if one of them was friends with David Williams? What if they found a way to convince Matt that she was the guilty one, not David?
Why had she assumed she was safe with this particular cop? So what if he loved his dog? She still didn’t know anything about him.
Except for the fact that he’d told her it was a good time to pray.
She didn’t really know any men who actually prayed. Oh, sure, her father used to take them to church, but it was nothing more than an act. In private, he was anything but loving. Going to church had only been to make them look good in the community.
Sad to think that Jill had married a man who was exactly like their father.
Duchess pressed her nose against the back of Lacy’s neck again, as if sensing her distress. She liked the dog better than she liked the master. The adrenaline rush had faded, leaving a nagging headache in its wake. Maybe that’s why she was having trouble thinking clearly. Who could concentrate after witnessing a murder, being shot at and then followed?
“Stay inside for a moment,” Matt said. “I’ll see if I can get us adjoining rooms.”
“Ask for a crib,” she interjected before he could slam the door.
“Oh, yeah. Sure.”
She rested back against the seat cushion, shivering in the night. A blanket of exhaustion dropped over her, and she had almost drifted off to sleep when Matt returned.
“We’re all set.” Matt slid in behind the wheel. “We have two adjoining rooms, one with a crib. The crib should be set up by the time we get inside.”
“That’s great, thanks.” The fact that he’d gotten adjoining rooms was reassuring. Maybe his kindness wasn’t just an act.
Matt drove around the motel and pulled up in front of two rooms on the ground floor, which would make caring for Duchess much easier.
After parking, Matt jumped out and opened the door for her. He offered his hand to help her out, and she took it, all too aware of the warmth of his fingers against hers. She dropped his hand, feeling self-conscious.
He used the key to open the door to room ten, then flipped on the light switch and handed her the key. She took Rory inside, grateful to see that there was in fact a crib in the room, set up near the bathroom.
The door closed behind her. She crossed over and gently began unwrapping the swaddling cloth that she’d used as an infant carrier. Rory squirmed, sighed and then quieted down again as she set him on his back in the crib.
For a long moment she stared down at his sleeping face, trying to find solace in the fact that he was too young to remember any of this.
A blessing, except for the fact that he would never know his mother. Fresh tears burned behind her eyelids, and she swiped them away and turned back into the room.
Rory wouldn’t be alone. He’d always have her. She’d care for him the way she knew Jill would want her to. She wasn’t sure how she would manage, but she would find a way.
There was a light tapping on the connecting door. Flipping back the dead bolt, she opened it up to see Matt standing there holding her purse, the diapers and the formula, with Duchess at his side. “I brought in your things.”
“Thanks.” She stepped back, giving him room to enter. He set everything down on the small desk, and she stole a glance at him. He was handsome, his mink brown hair longer than what most cops sported, with brilliant green eyes. He wasn’t that much taller than her own five feet and eight inches, but he was broad across the shoulders in a way that made her feel smaller than she really was.
No question, Matt looked as if he could have his pick of women. If you liked a man in uniform.
Good thing she wasn’t a fan. In her experience, macho men like her father and brother-in-law were the ones to stay far away from.
Although if she were honest, she had to admit that Matt didn’t act like her father or brother-in-law. Still, she wasn’t going to take anything at face value. Not anymore.
She crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture. “Will you talk to me before you call your boss?”
He lifted a brow. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”
“I’d appreciate it.” Duchess moved over to sniff at the crib, then returned to stand beside Matt. The dog was more gold than black, the long laceration on her right side an aberration against her glossy coat.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Matt said, moving back toward the connecting door. “And leave your side unlocked in case anything happens, okay?”
She gave him a terse nod. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
When he and Duchess left the room, she made sure the connecting door remained ajar as he’d asked before dousing the light and crawling beneath the covers fully dressed.
Sleep should have come easily, but for some reason her mind decided to replay the events of the past few hours. She pressed the pillow over her ears, as if that would help silence her sister’s pleas. The subsequent gunshots.
Deafening silence.
She must have slept a little because Rory’s crying woke up her up at quarter to six in the morning. Bleary-eyed, she dragged herself out of bed, stumbling a bit as she went over to make him a bottle.
She should have made it the night before. That’s probably what Jill would have done. Using warm water from the tap, she made his bottle, then quickly changed his diaper.
It was messy, and of course she’d completely forgotten about picking up wet wipes. The washcloth from the bathroom seemed too rough against his skin, but it did
