Free Double Trouble by Susan May Warren Page A

watched his chest rise and fall. “I can’t go into details, but we had a murder last night in Kellogg. And it was someone we knew.”
    Someone they knew? Of course in a town the size of Kellogg the odds of that were great, but . . . “Who?”
    He pushed his lunch to the side and leaned over the table, his voice in sleuth mode. “Remember Allison Miller?”
    PJ mentally scrolled through her yearbook. “Uh . . .”
    “A class ahead of us, she was a cheerleader.”
    PJ couldn’t breathe. Yes, she remembered her   —long blonde hair, an amazing toe touch. Too curvy for her age and a reputation to match. “Yes.”
    Boone blew out a long breath.
    PJ again reached for his hands.
    He surrendered them to her, holding tighter than she’dexpected. “She was working for me   —sort of an informant on an investigation. They found her body last night in the Kellogg harbor.” He shook his head, the memory lingering in the back of his eyes, eating his words.
    PJ waited, counting her heartbeats, trying to imagine what he’d really seen and then not wanting to.
    Boone stared at their clasped hands on the table, running both thumbs over her fingers. “She was beaten to death. It was brutal. And . . . the truth is, it was my fault.”
    “Boone . . .”
    “Last time I talked to her, she said that they were onto her   —but she wouldn’t say who. She told me she could handle it. And I believed her.”
    When he met her eyes, she recognized the emotion in them. Regret. And it was aimed right at her.
    “She thought she was tough enough to stand up against a group of people who played by an entirely different set of rules.”
    He didn’t have to fill in the proper nouns for PJ to know who he was really talking about. She held on to his hands a moment longer, then sat back.
    “I’m really sorry, Boone.” But she wasn’t Allison. And besides, she could take . . . care . . . “I really am going to be okay.”
    Based on his reddened eyes on hers, he didn’t believe her. “Don’t do this. Don’t make me show up someday to fish your bloated body out of the Kellogg harbor.” His voice hovered just above a moan.
    “I want to do this. It makes me feel like, for the first time in my life, I could be good at something.”
    “You are good at a billion things.”
    “Name one. One. I have lost or quit so many jobs from one end of the country to the other that my résumé could wallpaper Jeremy’s office. I like this job. I have instincts   —”
    “Instincts nearly got you hurt yesterday. Who knows when you’ll wind up in the middle of something dangerous?”
    “My instincts might have saved Geri’s life for all we know.”
    “If you do this, I’m going to spend every waking hour worried about you. I’ll think about you while I’m doing my job   —”
    “Don’t put that on me, Boone. I’m not your wife.”
    His mouth tightened. Behind them, the sub clerk called out an order. The bell over the door dinged. Boone’s eyes never left hers. “I am hoping there is a yet at the end of your sentence.”
    PJ’s throat tightened. “Don’t you see? This is my chance to do something with my life. To be someone extraordinary. To finally make my mark in Kellogg.”
    “You’re already extraordinary.”
    “Not . . . to me.” She looked out the window at the sun glaring on the pavement, the college students hiking home from summer classes, backpacks bumping against their shoulders. She hadn’t finished college. Hadn’t really finished anything.
    “I want to do this. And Jeremy’s got a new case for me. It’s important to me.”
    “And you’re important to me. I can’t let you do this.”
    “Don’t make me choose between you and my job.” PJ wasn’t sure where the ultimatum came from and wanted to snatch it back as quickly as the words tripped out of her mouth, butthey hung there between them, ugly and sour. She had no choice but to cross her arms, lift her chin.
    As she expected, her words, so