bring the image of his partner’s widow to mind.
He’d failed his partner, Drew Massey, when he’d lowered his guard with a young drug runner. And when Drew’s wife, Elaine, had accused him of causing Drew’s death, he couldn’t defend himself. Because she’d been right. Thanks to the eyewitness’s cell-phone video, the whole world had been able to see how he’d failed his partner. Including his fiancée. Cheryl had wasted no time in leaving him.
“I’m sorry, Jonah,” she said, interrupting his tumultuous thoughts. “I wish now that I had paid more attention.”
“Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? I’m not planning to stop for a while yet.”
“I’ll try,” she murmured.
She didn’t sleep, but she didn’t talk, either. He was oddly relieved to discover Mallory wasn’t the type to fill a silence with small talk.
No matter how much he told himself to keep an open mind, deep down, he believed Mallory’s story. For the past twenty-four hours, he’d been hoping that finding her would be the key to blowing his case wide open. But overhearing a snippet of a conversation wouldn’t get him anywhere close to pressing charges. If they couldn’t corroborate Mallory’s story, they had nothing.
Which meant not only was Mallory’s life still in danger, but he was right back to square one.
* * *
Mallory yawned so wide her jaw popped. She scrubbed at her gritty eyes, trying to force herself to stay awake. Finally, just as dawn was breaking over the horizon, Jonah pulled into a motel with a flashing vacancy sign out front.
“Where are we?” she asked, realizing she hadn’t even noticed the name of the town.
“Glen Hollow,” Jonah replied as he shut off the car and opened his door. “Population less than nine hundred.”
She slid out of the passenger seat. “Honestly, as long as there’s running water and a shower, I don’t care how many people live here.”
He flashed a tired grin, and she was struck by how handsome Jonah was. He wasn’t overly tall, just barely six feet in her estimation, but he was muscular. And she liked the way he wore his dark hair short. He opened the back door and rummaged around in a duffel bag. Before she could ask what he was doing, he stripped off his old shirt, revealing the blood-stained dressing covering the right side of his chest, before he pulled a black T-shirt over his head.
She turned away, feeling light-headed but unsure whether it was the blood or Jonah causing the sensation.
Must be the blood because she was immune to handsome men. She only dated men on her terms, determined to be the one in control. Never again would she let her guard down.
“Wait for me in the car,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t want the clerk to be able to identify you.”
Unable to argue with his logic, she nodded and slid back into the passenger seat. It was only a few minutes before he returned.
“Here.” He handed her a key. “We have adjoining rooms, numbers ten and twelve.”
“Ah, okay.” She was surprised he cared enough to respect her need for privacy. She couldn’t remember the last guy who’d put her needs before his own.
She told herself not to place too much emphasis on Jonah’s kindness. For all she knew, he was simply biding his time before he slipped handcuffs on her and hauled her off to jail.
If he tried that, he’d learn firsthand what it meant to be a black belt in Tae Kwon Do.
* * *
Jonah grabbed his laptop and his duffel bag from the backseat of his car. He caught Mallory eyeing his duffel with longing. Luckily he had plenty of cash—there would be time to pick up a few things for her later.
They went into their rooms. Jonah dropped his duffel bag on the bed and then crossed over to unlock the connecting door on his side of the two rooms. He was surprised to find that Mallory had already opened her side, too. He hovered in the doorway, not wanting to encroach on her personal space. The faint scent of juniper greeted him, as if Mallory had stashed a few Christmas trees inside. “I—uh—thought we’d head over to the diner for breakfast before we get some sleep.”
“Sure.” Her smile was weary. “But if you could stop at the front desk to get me a toothbrush, I’d appreciate it.”
“No problem.” He grabbed his computer and followed her outside.
She glanced at the computer in surprise. “Do you really think the café has Wi-Fi?”
“According to the desk clerk they do.” He’d made sure there was an internet connection in the rooms, too. “Figured I’d do some research on your former boyfriend over breakfast.”
Mallory didn’t say anything in response, but followed him inside the café. He chose a booth in the back. But when he booted up the computer, Mallory slid in beside him.
“What are you doing?” he asked in alarm, trying to ignore her juniper scent.
“I’m not just going to sit there and watch you work,” Mallory said in exasperation. “I can help.”
He wished he’d brought more than one computer, to keep Mallory on the opposite side of the booth where she belonged. Yet he could hardly blame her for wanting to help. When the waitress came over with a pot of coffee, he stopped her from filling his cup. “Just orange juice for me, please.”
“Me, too,” Mallory chimed in.
While they waited for their order, he began to search for recent information about Anthony Caruso.
“Do you know what we’re looking for?” Mallory asked.
“A needle in a haystack,” he muttered. His computer skills were decent, but attempting to breach the security of a state senator’s home computer probably wasn’t smart, especially on a public network, so he refrained. Thinking clearly wasn’t easy with Mallory glued to his side. He hadn’t been this distracted by a woman in a long time.
And he shouldn’t be now, while he was in the middle of a case.
They took a break from the computer search when their food arrived, and thankfully Mallory went back to her side of the booth. Neither of them said much as they ate. His original plan was to stay at the café and work while Mallory went back to the room to get some sleep. But exhaustion was already weighing him down.
Once they’d finished breakfast, Mallory again abandoned her side of the booth to slide in beside him.
“Why don’t you cross-reference Caruso’s name with Jefferson’s?” she suggested.
He typed in the two names, and the first item to come up was a newspaper article regarding a charity event that had been held a week ago, down at the Pfister Hotel in Milwaukee. When a color photo bloomed on the screen, he heard Mallory gasp softly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. And then he noticed the slender woman in a deep blue gown standing off to the side. The photographer had only caught her
