out were as remote as James Patterson strolling into the squad room to interview her for his next book.
She should be so lucky.
“Catch any bad guys tonight?”
“I think they stayed inside out of the heat.”
“Smart of them.”
“What about you?”
“Did I catch any, or was I one of them?”
He was a mind reader. Her lips curved while she made some notes in the file and closed it. “You said it, I didn’t.”
“I’m not a bad guy, Anna.”
“So you say.”
“Anything on George yet?”
“I’m not discussing a case with you, especially one you’re directly involved in.”
“Indirectly.”
“Whatever.” And no, she hadn’t found a thing, something she noted in the file she opened next. Unfortunately, she had no suspects. There were no prints at the scene and no witnesses. The only reason George Clemons was dead was a direct link to that night twelve years ago. And because of all of them.
Because of her.
Then there was Dante conveniently showing up at the same time a murder was committed. A murder of someone he was tied to.
And she knew nothing about Dante or where he’d been. No record, no priors, he showed up in no criminal databases, which she supposed should have relieved her, but the odd thing was he showed up nowhere. At all. It was as if he didn’t exist after he left here. Which made her more suspicious, not less.
She knew a lot of guys worked odd jobs for cash, so they never reported income, but for twelve years? Come on.
It made her wonder even more what the hell he’d been doing for the past twelve years. And why he was suddenly back. He said he was back for George and Ellen’s anniversary party. But then George turned up dead. She didn’t like it. Not at all.
As much as she wanted to keep the past where it belonged, as much as she didn’t want to encourage Dante, especially after last night, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get close to him, to find out where he’d been and what he’d been doing while he was gone. Because if he was connected in any way to George’s murder…
“Anything on the flowers and note?”
She shook her head. “Forensics got no prints, which doesn’t surprise me. The scene around my house came up clear, too. It’s just like the alley.”
“What about the alley?”
Dammit. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“Talk to me, Anna.”
“No. I’m not discussing this investigation with you.”
She laid her head in her hands.
“Tired?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Did you sleep?”
“I got a little.” Mainly what she got was a whole load of frustration, staring at the ceiling and fantasizing about Dante.
Hot, steamy fantasies. Naked ones.
Ugh.
As if late June wasn’t already hot enough…
Cool fingers swept across her neck, pressing in and massaging the tight muscles there. For a split second she forgot she was at work, that there were other cops there.
Then she jerked her head up and shrugged his hand off. “Stop that.”
His lips curled. “You don’t want me to stop.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“You didn’t want me to stop then, either.”
She looked around, expecting to find the entire squad room of cops staring at her.
No one was even in the room.
Shit.
“You can’t do that here.”
“Where would you like to do it?”
She sighed. “You’ve been back in town for a little more than one day. We hardly know each other anymore. Why the hard press to get in my pants?”
He took a seat in the chair. “Is that what I’m doing? I was just asking you out for a meal.”
She slanted him a look. “You’re asking for a lot more than a meal.”
“What if I want to get to know you again, figure out what you’ve been up to all this time.”
“We aren’t going to find out any more about each other over a meal today than we did yesterday.”
He laughed. “One short conversation? You think that’s all we have left?”
“I don’t have time for relationships in my life, Dante. I’m busy.”
“I didn’t ask you for a relationship, Anna. There are things we need to talk about, and you know it. We all need to talk, not just you and me.”
He wanted more from her than talking. She knew it and he knew it. She hadn’t been a cop for seven years—a damn good cop—by ignoring signals and body language. Dante’s body language told her a lot about his intentions.
Intentions she had no desire to act on.
Okay, maybe she had desires, but she knew nothing about him.
“You want to talk, how about you start by telling me the truth about you?”
He leaned back, a look of wariness on his face. “What truth?”
“About where you’ve been for the past twelve years.” And why he left in the first place.
That shut him up.
“And why you show up here and suddenly someone close to you is dead.”
Now he looked pissed. A sure sign of something to hide. “Circumstance. I had nothing to do with George’s death.”
“So you say. But it sure is a coincidence that George is murdered—” she looked around to make sure no one had wandered into the squad room “—in a place very familiar to you, that no one knows about, on the same night you come back after being gone for twelve years. I’d like an explanation for that one, Dante.”
“So would I. I’d also like an explanation why after the murder someone
