She sank into the comfort of his embrace. “I’ve got this feeling that something is wrong, that something terrible is about to happen, and I can’t shakeit.”
“You’ve been through a lot this past couple of weeks. I think anyone in your shoes would feel the way you do right now.” He didn’t use the term post-traumatic stress, but she knew that’s what hemeant.
“I suppose that makes sense.” But it didn’t. Not really. “I served in a combat zone with a man who hated me and tried to make my life hell, and I didn’t feel like this. When I close my eyes, I’m there at the elevator again. When I’m awake, I keep seeing him standing up there on that balcony looking at me and then walkingaway.”
She pulled away from Joaquin and walked to the window, feeling too itchy to sit still. “It’s like I’m forgetting something—something important. I can’t put my finger on it. Sorry. I’m not much funtonight.”
Joaquin got to his feet, came up behind her, rested his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t apologize. I don’t expect you to entertain me. What you’re going through—this is real life. I told you I wasn’t going anywhere, and I meant it. Tell me, Mia—what are youfeeling?”
“Powell’s arrest—something doesn’tfit.”
“You’re not sure the cops have the rightguy.”
She turned, stared up at him, his words hitting the nail on the head, unleashing a wave of panic. “I’m not. I can’t say why. I’m being stupid. It’s probably just stress, right? If the cops and the FBI say Powell didit…”
“Do you want to talk itthrough?”
A part of her just wanted to forget, but she couldn’t think about anything else at the moment. “I’ll get paper andpencils.”
Joaquin headed for the kitchen. “I’ll pour thewine.”
* * *
Joaquin lookedat his blank sheet of paper. “Okay, what am Idoing?”
Mia shook her head, frustration and anxiety lining her face. “Hell if Iknow.”
“Why don’t you list the things that make you feeluneasy?”
She did that, naming them as she went. “Why would Powell want to kill Andy and Jason? He thought Andy was funny—the company idiot, always getting himself into trouble. Everyone likedJason.”
Joaquin grabbed at a straw. “Did either of them give away anything during the investigation into the looting that might have upset him or made him lookbad?”
Mia thought about this for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t know. I doubt Andy would have said anything. He was involved himself. Jason was the one who figured out that they’d been exposed to mustard agent. I remember him asking again and again how they’d been exposed, and no one would tellhim.”
She made a note next to Jason’s name, then wrote down her next couple of questions. “Powell isn’t an idiot. Why would he leave shell casings and slugs? Why would he start killing people now all these yearslater?”
“Sometimes people grow more bitter over time. His life went to shit after Iraq, didn’t it? He went from being an Army officer to a disgraced asshole and a junky. Maybe he’s spent these past few years growing angry andvengeful.”
Mia wrote that down, too. “Why did he try to frame me if he planned to killme?”
That made no sense to Joaquin either. “Yeah, I got nothing there—unless he’s half out of his mind on drugs or someshit.”
Mia hadn’t touched her wine, the distress on her face making Joaquin’s chest ache. “This isn’thelping.”
Joaquin reached over, pushed her wine closer. “Try torelax.”
She picked up the glass, sipped, set it down again. “Okay, I’mrelaxed.”
He bit back a grin. “Right.”
“We’re gettingnowhere.”
“We’re just getting started.” Joaquin had an idea. “Shoals talked about this being a puzzle. What are the missing pieces? There are questions about why he framed you. There’s Powell’s motivation for killing Andy and Jason. There are the questions you’ve already written down. There’s physical stuff, too, like Frank’s wallet and Jason’s wallet. There’s Andy’s body. He was the first to be killed,but…”
Chills skittered down Joaquin’sspine.
He looked up to find Mia staring at him through wideeyes.