the look in your eye.” She wanted to capture the youthful passion shining lighthouse bright on his face. As a reminder that some parts of the world were still worth looking at.
He grinned. She snapped.
MacAllister slowed the boat as he approached the dock. “We’re almost there.”
One hand on the wheel, the other on the throttle, he twisted around to face her. He opened his mouth as if to add something more. She adjusted the focus ring. Surprise rounded his eyes. Glass shattered. The report of a gun cracked through the sudden rev of the boat’s engine. MacAllister crumpled, taking her down with his dead weight.
“CAN WE STOP?” ABBIE ASKED as Gray’s Corvette burned up I-95. Red streaked the sky, reminding her yet again of MacAllister’s blood all over the patrol boat deck. Another dead cop. Because of her. Her stomach was a tangle of greasy knots, her mind a maddened beehive and her determination would capitulate into a white flag of surrender if she didn’t do something soon. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
His fingers touched her knee in concern and racked up her guilt another notch. “There’s a rest stop up ahead. Can you hang on for another few minutes? I don’t want to pull off on the shoulder.”
“Just hurry.” Would he leave her alone? She searched her memory for the layout of the bathroom but couldn’t remember if there was a back exit or not. Gray had changed into khakis, a polo shirt and running shoes. She wished he’d kept on his slippery leather shoes. Then she’d have half a chance at losing him.
“You holding up?” Gray asked as they passed a sign announcing their upcoming exit.
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