Free Close Proximity by Donna Clayton Page B

anything. Maybe she had simply been grasping at straws. Maybe she’d madea wild guess. Reporters were known to do such things. In fact, a journalist’s ability to anticipate a story before his or her colleagues was what separated the good correspondents from the mediocre ones.
    In Libby’s line of work, she’d dealt with her fair share of media persons, and she knew in her heart that the reporter who had just accosted her would keep nibbling and grinding away until she had herself a story.
    An aggravated sigh rushed from her. She was annoyed with Rafe for not returning to the station for her when he said he would. She was annoyed with the reporter. And she was annoyed by the information she’d discovered about Charlie O’Connell’s death.
    Sgt. Kade Lummus had been open and frank with Libby. O’Connell’s car crash had been ruled an accident. However, there had been plenty of questions surrounding the whole incident—questions that, to this day, remained unanswered.
    She wanted to discuss the information with Rafe.
    Rafe. The thought of how he was making her walk home in the rain made her smolder all the more. And she was still fuming minutes later when she pushed the key into the dead bolt on the front door.
    She was wet. She was tired. Her feet hurt like the dickens. And the grumbling of her stomach reminded her that she’d skipped lunch. She kicked off the sopping leather pumps and slid out of her soggy sweater. Deciding she wasn’t in the mood to cook, she made up her mind to go out and pick up some burgers for her and Rafe’s dinner.
    He’d feel bad enough for having stood her up at the police station. Once he found out she’d gotten drenched while walking home and then turned around and driven out to pick him up something to eat, he’d feel like a real heel.
    A grin threatened to soften her anger when she imagined the contrition she just might witness in Rafe’s intense dark gaze. Most often those mahogany eyes of his were hard as flint and he looked as if he was harboring a thousand secrets.
    Solving the puzzle that was Rafe James intrigued her to no end. Even though she had no desire whatsoever to be captivated by him—or any other man for that matter—she’d be lying to herself if she said the urge to figure him out, crack the shell he seemed to be hiding in, didn’t intrude on her thoughts, on her dreams.
    He was fiercely proud of who he was. Of where he’d come from. But something tormented him. Something in his head, in his past. She could see it, feel it, and it made her wonder…
    Libby shook her head to clear her thoughts as hunger pangs rumbled in her belly. She slipped her feet into dry shoes and grabbed a rain slicker from the hall closet. She’d expelled enough energy on Rafe. Right now she wanted to satiate her appetite for food.
    Luckily, she’d closed the door of her sedan just before the sky opened, dumping a torrent of rain from the steely clouds. She backed out of the drive and headed out of town in the direction of her favorite burger place.
    To an out-of-towner, Jake’s probably looked like a real dive. But many people of Prosperino knew that the tiny restaurant was always filled with luscious aromas and friendly faces. In this day and age of healthier eating choices, she wondered how Jake’s, with its greasy hamburgers smothered with thick slabs of cheddar cheese, stayed in business, but somehow it did.
    She’d order two of the special sirloin burgers with the works and an extra large serving of the trademark seasoned baked potato wedges. The restaurant was a bit out of theway, but the food was well worth the drive. Rafe would be getting a treat tonight.
    The wiper blades slapped a steady, lulling beat, and she began thinking about the hot shower and dry clothes that were waiting for her when she returned home. About the glass of red wine she’d enjoy with her burger and spicy fries in