some much more colorful theories about Anne’s visit. If Anne denied Kate’s story, she’d just fuel the curiosity. She certainly wasn’t going to lie about it, but maybe the safest thing was to say nothing and let them think what they wanted.
“I’m sure Mitch is busy.” She settled on noncommittal. “I probably won’t see much of him while we’re here.”
Kate swung around again, eyebrows going up in surprise. “Not see much of him? Well, of course you will. After all, his house is right across the street.”
“Right—” She stopped. Anything she said now, she’d probably regret. Instead she headed back to the car for the next load, fuming.
So Mitch lived right across the street, did he? He might have mentioned that little fact about The Willows at some point in their discussion. He hadn’t wanted her to come back to Bedford Creek at all; that had been clear. He certainly didn’t want her to join in his investigation. But apparently he felt that if she did come, she should be under his eye.
Well, they’d get a few things straight as soon as possible. She was used to doing things on her own, and that wasn’t about to change now—
It looked as if she’d have a chance to tell him so in the immediate future, because his police cruiser was pulling up directly across from The Willows.
Mitch got out. He closed the door, hesitated a moment, and then headed straight for her.
“Anne. I see you arrived safely. Any problems?”
“Not at all.” She tried for a cool politeness. It would help, she thought, if she didn’t experience that jolt of awareness every time she saw his tall figure. “We just got in a few minutes ago.”
“I’ll take that.” He reached for the suitcase she’d begun to pull from the trunk, but she tightened her grip.
“I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can.” His hand closed on the bag, his fingers brushing hers. “But why should you?”
“Because I don’t need any help.” Mitch Donovan had to be the only person in her life with the ability to make her sound like a petulant child.
They stood staring at each other, the bag trapped between them. Then his lips twitched slightly. “Something tells me that’s your favorite saying.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being independent.” She’d had to be, even when she was a child, even when she’d been married. She didn’t know any other way to behave.
You can’t do it all yourself, child. Helen’s voice echoed in her mind. Sometimes you have to let go and let God help.
“You can be independent and still let me carry your bag upstairs.”
She held on for another moment, then released the handle. With a half smile, he hoisted the bag, then grabbed a second one with his other hand.
Typical cop, she thought, following with an armload of her own. Give him an inch and he’d take a mile.
Unloading the car took only a few minutes with Mitch helping. She glanced around the same sitting room they’d had before, amazed as always at the amount of gear required by one small baby. Mitch set the stroller behind a bentwood coat rack.
“Looks like that’s it.”
She nodded. Maybe this was the chance she needed to set some ground rules for this visit. He had to understand that she wasn’t going to be a passive bystander to any investigation he planned.
“We need to talk. Have you found out anything more about Tina’s stay here?”
His eyebrows lifted. “It’s only been a day.”
“I don’t have much time, if you’ll recall. The hearing is in less than a month, and the results—”
The sentence came to an abrupt halt when Kate, holding the baby, stuck her head in the door. “Getting settled?”
Anne managed a nod, her heart thumping. In another instant she’d have said something about DNA testing, and Kate would have heard. She’d have to be more careful.
Mitch gestured toward the stroller. “Why don’t we take Emilie out for a walk? I’m sure she’s tired of being cooped up in the car.”
Now that was exactly what she didn’t want: to have the whole town see them together and speculate about them. “I don’t think so. I need to put things away.”
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