Lucy sat Indian style on the chair closest to the fireplace, not an open hearth like at RCK, but enclosed and functional, designed to heat the house.
“Well, I thought we should celebrate,” Sean said as he sat on the couch, “but I forgot to pick up champagne.”
“Celebrate?”
“I talked myself out of a speeding ticket.”
Sean grinned widely and Lucy smiled, just a bit. “You did?”
“Yep, the trooper was a hard sell, but that’s simply a new challenge.”
“How?”
“My charm and wit.”
She laughed, then covered her mouth as if she’d surprised herself.
“I can’t give away all my secrets,” Sean said. “But I did want to talk to you about something.”
His tone, though he tried to keep it light, gave him away, and Lucy’s good humor quickly dissipated. She was exceptionally perceptive, even to the subtlest signs. It was unnerving, and Sean almost didn’t tell her what he was up to. But her family had kept her in the dark for years; he wasn’t going to start this new friendship—this relationship—with deception.
“Patrick called me earlier and wanted to fly back, but I convinced him to stay in California and finish the job.”
Lucy rubbed the back of her neck. “I talked to him late last night and told him not to come, that I’m fine. Morton’s dead; he can’t hurt me.”
Physically was the unspoken word. “That’s what I said, but Patrick’s concerned and asked if I’d kind of keep an eye out for you. I wanted to be up front about that, because I promised him I would.”
She frowned but didn’t say anything.
Sean continued. “One of the things we’re concerned about, from a security perspective, is that we don’t know why Morton came to D.C. It probably has nothing to do with you, but because he was killed nearby, and we don’t know what he was up to, I’m going to look into Morton’s death. On the q.t.”
Lucy had to have heard Sean wrong. Her stomach churned uncomfortably, her light dinner now feeling like a lead ball. She could understand Patrick asking Sean to check up on her, that didn’t really bother her that much—in fact, it bothered her not at all—but what did that really have to do with Morton?
She said, “I don’t get it. Why?”
Sean leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs. “It’s my job, it’s what I do best, Lucy, but I don’t want to do it behind your back. I’m not going to interfere with the FBI investigation, but some of my research may cross paths with theirs, and I don’t want you to be surprised.”
She shook her head. Nothing about this would end well, she was certain of it. “I can’t have you crossing any paths with the FBI. It could hurt my chances getting accepted.”
“I have many contacts, and the FBI has many limitations.”
But maybe it wasn’t just that Sean might get in hot water with the Bureau. It was that he would be digging into her life and her past. It would be inevitable, even if Morton’s murder had nothing at all to do with her.
Except that wasn’t the case. Kate was at Quantico now because Morton had been starting Trask Enterprises all over again.
“Lucy?”
“The FBI found evidence in Denver that Morton was re-creating a new online sex website,” she said quietly, unable to look Sean in the eye. “Kate’s going through the files at Quantico.”
Sean didn’t say anything. Her stomach tightened even more, and she thought she might be sick. She didn’t want to talk about any of this with Sean, but she didn’t see how she could avoid it.
“Luce.” Sean took her hands into both of his. She stared at their joined hands, a warmth spreading through her, relaxing her better and faster than any of her panic-control techniques, as if he were drawing her tension into him.
“You’re not alone. Kate is good at her job, you know that. I’m good at mine. I can find answers. At the very least, we need to know if you’re in any danger.”
“The only danger I’m in is of being humiliated and exploited on the Internet,” she said bitterly.
His hands tightened around hers. “I won’t let anyone exploit you.”
She jerked her head up and stared at Sean. She had never heard him sound so venomous. Every time she’d seen him, up until last night, he’d been witty and seemingly lighthearted. Smart, but shallow.
He had far more depth than she’d thought. It made her wonder if his typical carefree attitude was his protective shell.
“The FBI isn’t going to let this case go. Kate won’t let them.”
“I agree. But it won’t hurt if I sniff around. Quietly.”
“Just don’t get in trouble.” And don’t get me in trouble.
“I’ll do my best,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing. “Patrick said there’s something you need to do tomorrow. Said if you won’t cancel, I should go with you.”
“It’s a fund-raiser for WCF, the victims’ rights group I volunteer for. You’d be bored.”
“But you’re going?”
“I have to. And honestly, whatever Morton was here for, if it was to hurt me—he’s dead. I don’t know any of his other cronies, so I highly doubt anyone is after me. There’s no reason.”
“I agree, but humor us, okay?”
She nodded. She hadn’t wanted to go alone, anyway.
“Good. Now, how formal?”
“Business attire.”
“And here I thought I could wear my tux. I bought it for my brother’s wedding and haven’t worn it in two years.”
Suddenly, there was nothing Lucy wanted more than to see Sean in a tuxedo. He would look good in anything, but a tux would be … incredible. “That might be a tad too formal,” Lucy said.
“Another time.” He smiled at her and Lucy knew he was talking about them, a date—her and Sean. Just the way he smiled, the way his blue eyes brightened mischievously, the way his fingers began to tap on the palm of her hand, she realized he was flirting. Subtle, but she couldn’t miss it. She was speechless.
She couldn’t just stare at him. “You want to drive tomorrow or shall I?” Lucy asked Sean.
He looked at her with mocked indignation. “I always drive.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You do?”
“I’m a guy. You have brothers, you must understand that it’s our right. Isn’t it in the male code book? Men always drive?”
He said it with such a straight face she couldn’t help but smile. “What if I drive your car?” she asked.
Now he really did look pained. “My car?”
“What, you don’t let anyone take it out?”
“No.” He was serious about that one. “I might let you drive it someday,” he said cautiously. “But not tomorrow.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Yeah, I thought so,” he grumbled.
TWELVE
Lucy had heard Kate come in late, and hoped she’d get a chance to talk to her about Morton’s files first thing in the morning, but while Lucy showered, Kate left. She’d sent her a text message on her cell phone:I’ll be at Quantico all day. We’ll talk later. Love you, sis.
—Kate.
“Kate.” Lucy shook her head, her smile more bittersweet than happy. She loved her sister-in-law so much, which made the lies that much harder. She had to find a way to forgive her, and Dillon, or she wouldn’t be able to live under the same roof. More than that, she didn’t want this distrust to become a chasm between them, but she didn’t know how to get rid of it. It was easy to say “I forgive you,” but it was much harder to feel it. She prayed time would help.