that entered her eyes, he knew he’d better not add killer. He hated to tell her, but whoever sneaked into her place and snooped through her office might be connected to the murders. She was up to her dainty nose in this investigation whether she wanted to be or not.
FIVE
Sam studied the profile of the man behind the wheel of the pickup. Nice strong chin, a little on the square side, but not jutting, and definitely not weak. Just right. And his hand holding hers had been just right, too, wrapping her palm and fingers in a big grip, but not squeezing.
All well and good, but why was she alone in a pickup with a guy she’d just met? She’d wanted to escape the deluge of reporters as much as Ryan, but why did she feel perfectly at home sitting here? And safe? The police maintained he wasn’t a suspect in the murder case. However, those words hadn’t meant a lot to her inner security barometer. Less than an hour ago she’d believed him capable of breaking and entering. What had changed?
The dog. Despite his tough exterior, the man had a core of kindness. Even her moody cat knew it and trusted him. And Sam trusted animals. They had a sense about people that human beings often didn’t.
Ryan shot her a glance with his intense blue eyes, and the corners of his mouth tilted up.
What was the matter with her? She’d better quit staring, or the guy would get the wrong idea.
She looked out the window where the tree-lined bluffs of this picturesque area flashed past. Ryan’s place of business was roughly a half hour from her dry cleaners. Funny that they both lived where they worked and owned their own businesses. Did that mean they were the same sort of people?
Not really, because that was where the similarities ended. He lived in a secluded woodland area, she in a business district. His house traveled with him whenever he wanted to pick up and leave, while hers stayed planted where she intended to put down roots. No, when a person looked at it logically, they weren’t much alike at all. If they could get this awful investigation behind them, they would have no basis to develop an ongoing relationship. She’d just have to disappoint Jenna and Hallie in the matchmaking department. So why did that thought make her heart sink?
Shake it off, girl. Stick with the program. “Why do the police say you couldn’t have been the one who—er, you know? They generally look at family first. Excuse me for asking. My gut says you’re okay, but my head’s not quite there yet.”
Ryan let out a short laugh. “I’m familiar with that internal tug-of-war, and I don’t blame you for asking. They did suspect me at first. Who wouldn’t? But they ran into a brick wall when they considered timing and gunshot residue.”
“I don’t follow what you’re saying.”
“A stray pellet stopped the clock on the wall behind my dad’s desk, pinpointing when the shootings took place. When the crime scene techs tested me from top to bottom for gunshot residue, they didn’t find a speck. No way could I have taken a shower, changed clothes, dried my hair, and dispose of my tainted outfit between the time the murders were committed and the time the first squad car arrived on the scene. They were pretty much forced to acknowledge that my part in events was exactly as I said. That’s when they decided the whole thing was murder/suicide, and my dad was the bad guy.” He snorted.
“Precisely what whoever did it wanted people to believe.”
Ryan met her gaze, grim-faced, then turned his attention back to the road. “And I was no better than the cops in my thinking.”
“Why should you have been?”
“Because he was my dad, that’s why! A son should know better!”
Sam lifted her hands, palms out. “I get the point.”
His shoulders sagged. “Sorry. I’m still riled about all this.”
“I don’t blame you. When you and Hallie were talking, what were you about to say you gave the police?”
“The code for a storage unit. They said they’d check it out today. I rented a unit near the old neighborhood, and that’s where I stuck all the family stuff I didn’t get rid of after the funerals. I was pretty shook up and didn’t sort through anything after selling the house and the furniture. Just boxed it and stuffed it into a rental garage. I pay the rent bill every month, but to tell you the truth, I haven’t been back since.”
Sam frowned. “I can understand why you were in no shape to look at things at the time, but ten years is quite a while to leave your family memories locked away in a storeroom.”
His knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. “Not if you think your bid for independence as good as pulled the trigger.”
“Do I ever understand that ‘bid for independence’ thing! I’m still fighting for mine.”
“What do you mean? You own a business, and I don’t see you living with parents.”
“A month ago you would have seen exactly that.” Sam rolled her eyes. “And no business, either.”
“No kidding!”
She bobbed her head. “Not even a teensy exaggeration. After finishing high school half a year behind the rest of my class, it took me another six to finish college because I needed to work so much to help pay old medical bills. Happily, my job was in a dry cleaners, where I learned a trade hands-on. So when my maternal grandmother left her only granddaughter a sizable chunk in her will, I suddenly found myself free of financial obligation and able to pursue a career that combined my experience with my business degree.” Sam stretched out her legs in the roomy interior and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “The only hitch was finding a dry-cleaning establishment to purchase that would get me out from under my family’s watchful eye and yet not be so far away that they would have instant heart failure when I told them I was moving.”
Ryan chuckled. “Where are you from?”
“Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Hallie’s from there, too, as well as another friend I’m close with, Jenna. She’s part owner and full-time chef at The Meridian.”
Ryan whistled under his breath. “I’ve heard that restaurant is the hottest taste sensation since buttered toast.”
Sam laughed. “I take it you haven’t paid a visit.”
He waved a hand over his polo shirt and jeans. “Suits and ties and power lunches were my dad’s thing, not mine.”
“Jenna’s restaurant welcomes tennis shoes seated next to designer leather loafers. We’ll have to go sometime.” Sam halted on an intake of breath. Did she just ask this guy out?
“Sounds great!”
By the size of Ryan’s smile, that’s exactly what she’d done, and there was no taking it back now. At least not totally. “You know, to apologize for accusing you of taking my cat. You did flowers—I guess I can do lunch.” She forced a big smile. Could he see her pulse racing? Well, he probably couldn’t miss the flush that heated her face.
“You know,” Ryan said, “Bastian likely just slipped out to explore the neighborhood. He seems to possess a normal case of curiosity, considering his species.”
“You’re
