Free Bond, Stephanie - Body Movers 06.5 by 6 1.2 Body Parts Page A

swallowed hard. “Yes. A three-diamond Cartier engagement ring, and a matching gold wedding band.”
    He whistled low. “I take it your husband doesn’t work for the city.”
    She didn’t respond, but their gazes locked and she saw the same confusion in his gold-colored eyes as before… he felt their connection, but didn’t understand why.
    He directed them to a table where the jewelry had been sorted. A uniformed cop checked off the items they claimed.
    Carlotta silently slipped on her rings and studied them—was it her imagination, or did they feel even heavier?
    “You act as if you’ve never seen those things before,” Jack remarked.
    She turned to find him scrutinizing her. “It’s… hard to explain.”
    “Life’s complicated, isn’t it?”
    There it was again, the tug between them that had erupted the second they’d first met in the police precinct when Wesley had been arrested… and still endured.
    “Are you through with me?” Hannah asked Jack, ending the moment.
    “Yes.”
    Hannah looked at Carlotta. “I’d offer you a ride home, but I have another work gig to get to.”
    “I’ll make sure Ms. Wren gets home,” Jack said.
    “Ashford,” Hannah corrected.
    “Right,” he and Carlotta said in unison.
    Hannah squinted back and forth between them, then lifted her hand in a wave to Carlotta. “Nice fighting crime with you.
    See you around the club.”
    She watched her friend give Coop an adoring glance as she passed him, then exit the club. Carlotta wondered if she and Hannah would ever be as good friends here as they were in the other place. It was, she supposed, a start.
    Coop gave them a flat smile as he walked up. “I’m finished here unless you need something else, Jack.”
    “We’re done. You driving straight home?” Jack gave him a pointed look that said he, too, had noticed Coop had been drinking.
    Anger flashed in Coop’s eyes, then he returned a curt nod. “Sure.” He turned to Carlotta. “It was nice to meet you, Ms.
    Wren.”
    “Ashford,” Jack corrected.
    “Right,” Coop said. His gaze lingered on her for a few seconds, then he turned and strode away, his long legs eating up the ground.
    “Ready to go?” Jack asked her.
    She nodded, suddenly nervous about being alone with him. When they exited, a TV reporter jogged up the sidewalk. He shoved a microphone in Jack’s face. “Detective, is it true the notorious fugitive Duke Thornhouse was taken down in a gunfight during an attempted armed robbery?”
    A muscle worked in Jack’s jaw. “No comment.”
    Carlotta smothered a smile—they both knew it was only a matter of time before the fifty or so women dining in the club restaurant circulated the story about her and Hannah foiling the robber’s escape.
    He hustled Carlotta into a familiar dark sedan—how many times had she been in Jack’s car? She settled into the seat, noticing it seemed much the same. From the empty coffee cup in the console, it appeared he was riding solo.
    Jack slid into the driver’s seat and clicked his seat belt into place.
    “You don’t have a partner?” she asked.
    His jaw hardened. “My partner, Detective Marquez, is in the hospital recuperating from a gunshot received in the line of duty.”
    Her pulse bumped. Detective Maria Marquez had perished in the other place, at the hands of a killer. “Is Maria going to be okay?”
    That garnered her a sharp look. “How do you know my partner’s first name?”
    She caught herself. “I must’ve heard it on the news.”
    “She’s going to be okay… but she has a long road back. What was your address again?”
    She told him.
    “Nice part of town,” he offered.
    “I suppose.”
    She studied his profile and allowed the electricity bouncing between them to charge the interior of the car. After a stretch of loaded silence, he looked over at her.
    “Are you sure we haven’t met before?”
    Her lungs squeezed. “Why do you ask?”
    He shook his head. “I can’t explain it. You just