if something had happened to Leah—and if Thomas was responsible—she didn’t think she’d be able to live with herself.
“How was your day?” Scott held the cell phone as he stripped off his shirt, standing in the bathroom at the station. Then he wedged the phone between his shoulder and ear, reaching for soap and a towel. The guys would give him a hard time if he was in here too long.
And there was no way he was saying good-night to Tricia out there with all of them listening, razzing him, minding his business.
“Fine.” It had taken too long for her to answer and Scott’s neck tightened.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just…lonely.”
Oh. Well…good. He was, too.
“It was kind of an intense weekend,” he said.
“Yeah.”
“Hold on, will you?”
“Of course.”
He splashed a handful of water over his face, swiped it with a soapy washcloth and towel and quickly brushed his teeth.
“So what’d you and Taylor do today?”
“Swung in the park. Had lunch at KFC. Watched old Lassie videos.”
“With Timmy?” Taylor had a real things for dogs. Blue ones. Smart collie ones. And mutts in the park.
“Yeah.”
Pants unbuckled, ready to slip off at his bunk, Scott faced the door. He had to be getting back out there. “What’d you have for dinner?”
“Macaroni and cheese.”
She hated it about as much as Taylor loved it, which meant she’d probably eaten very little. He rubbed at the ache in his solar plexus, left the bathroom and walked outside. The guys would rile him about his obvious need for private conversation with the woman he’d picked up in a bar and been stuck with ever since, but at the moment he didn’t give a flying damn.
“You haven’t been thinking too much, have you?” he asked quietly as soon as he was outside. “About last night, I mean? Having second thoughts about staying?”
Not that he didn’t have second thoughts about her being there. At least once a day, it seemed. Especially at times like now, when he felt so helpless and out of control. Her past was a void and he sensed danger there and it frightened him.
But she didn’t need him to worry about her. She could take care of herself.
“No.”
Okay, well, fine.
“I…” She stopped, sighed, sounding almost frustrated. “I want to tell you something that has no relevance to anything, but I don’t want you to ask any questions. Is that fair?”
“It is in my book.” He’d accept anything as fair if it meant she was going to talk to him. Not that he wanted to hear so much that he’d have to get further involved. He just wanted to know enough so he wouldn’t have to worry.
“I—when I was growing up, I had this best friend. Leah was her name.” Tricia’s voice took on the soft note that melted him. So loving, compassionate. Honest.
“We met when we were three—our mothers knew each other. Neither of us ever had another close friend after that.”
If he hadn’t known Alicia, he probably wouldn’t have understood that. “Didn’t you get sick of each other?”
“Not really. We just fit, you know?”
He hadn’t, before Alicia. “Yeah.”
“Anyway, I was thinking about her today. Remembering the summer before we graduated from high school.”
Leaning against the back wall of the station, surrounded by yard and a privacy fence, Scott slid down to the cement, intrigued as hell. If this was what his questions last night had brought him, glimpses of a younger Tricia, he hadn’t made such a bad mistake in forcing the issue.
“We found this clearing. It was a cliff, really, high above the tracks for an old mining train.”
Which could’ve put her in a million places in California and Arizona alone.
“We christened it our sacred place and whenever either of us had a problem or needed some time alone, that’s where we’d go. Inevitably, if one of us went up, the other one found her there. It was kind of weird.”
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