“Sorry, but you know this place better than anyone. Maybe you can give us a lay of the land there. Where would Mars hide?”
“I need to finish booking the perp that Harley brought in.” He turned to her. “By the way, Travis Malone is wanted for assault and attempted murder down in Anchorage, so ... well done.”
She stilled but found a tight smile.
And just like she might have predicted, Jericho’s shoulders stiffened, his jaw ticking, his eyes widening for a split second before his face hardened. His voice stayed calm, but she knew better. “Homicide?” His hazel-blue eyes bore down on her. “You chased down a killer on your own?”
“I knew what I was doing. Just...” She sighed. “Jericho, I know how to take care of myself. You can stop worrying.”
She hadn’t realized that her voice fell. He latched onto her gaze with his, a sort of desperation, maybe, in his expression.
The power of it reached right in, took her breath even as he drew in his own.What—?
Then, just like that, he shook his head and ripped his gaze away. “Sure. Whatever.”
Ouch. Clearly he still possessed the ability to make her feel, well, slapped. Weak. Silly. Maybe even a troublemaker.
And that just lit a fire inside her. “Not that it’s your business.”
Oops. Because clearly, it lit a fire in him too, as he turned back to her. Still the low voice. Still the edge, so much more in it than his words. “It’s my business if we’re working together.” His eyes darkened. “You have to promise me that you’re not going to do something stupid and get me or my dog hurt.”
The words simply scrambled inside, then. She didn’t know where to start. Except, “You’re the very last person who should lecture me on hurting people.”
Aw, and now—shoot—her eyes burned. C’mon. She was so very over this stupid, annoying, in her face, arrogant—
“Me?”
“Yeah,” she said. “You blow back into town and act like you suddenly care? Like you didn’t”—she hazarded a glance at Crew, then Deke, but frankly, Deke already knew—“like you didn’t completely abandon me. That you didn’t blow apart my world. That you didn’t give one tiny whit about the fact that your dad killed mine! So yes,you, Mr. Watch Me Run.”
His mouth opened then, and he looked—honestly looked—like she’d delivered a blow.
She looked away, fast, because the last thing she needed him to know was that she’d needed him.Reallyneeded him.
But that was then, this was now.
Deke cleared his throat.
She glanced at the sheriff. “Sorry.”
“Are you sure you two can work together?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Mm-hmm,” Jericho said. His gaze softened. “Harley—”
“Leave it,” she said. “It’s old news. Sorry.” She focused back on the map. “What time do we go in?”
“Harley,” Jericho repeated softly behind her. “I’m around now. And I’m not watching you get yourself killed.”
“Good to know.” She forced a smile. “I’ve managed without you for years. I’ll manage now.”
Silence.
Finally, Deke said, “We leave first thing in the morning—five a.m. sharp.”
“I’ll be here,” Jericho said. “Let’s go, boy,” he murmured, his voice soft, the kind of softness that once upon a time, he’d used for her.
Her chest ached.