Free Hot Contact by Susan Crosby Page B

work together? Especially now, after having sex.”
    Her directness reminded him of her reputation for being unsentimental. He’d seen evidence contrary to that. Now he saw truth of it, too. Their lovemaking had apparently affected him more than her.
    â€œTonight I remembered something important,” he said, dragging his hands down his face. “I was fourteen when your father died. I remember because it was my freshman year in high school, which sticks in your memory, and my dad was on edge for months. Mom and I tiptoed around him. He must have been investigating your father’s death.” In fact he’d been strung as tight as Joe had been for the past year. The parallels weren’t hard to miss. Was it the case—as part of it was for Joe with the unsolved Leventhal case—or more?
    â€œJoe.” She stopped, closed her eyes for a second. “How can we work together? One of us might find out something horrible about our father. There are ethics involved here, and our individual and personal need to keep our fathers honest and upright in our memories. That kind of conflict would be hard to reconcile.”
    â€œSo we should each investigate on our own? After twenty-five years and so little information to go on, how far do you think we’ll get? If we put our heads and resources together, we might find something.” He leaned toward her. “I may learn my father didn’t do his job competently. You may learn something about your father you don’t want to know. But our goal is to find the truth, isn’t it? No matter what the truth is. No matter how painful.”
    She took a long time in answering. “Would you have told me about it, if you’d found the file before I came after the truth myself?”
    â€œI don’t know,” he said honestly. “Maybe I would’ve explored it first, then taken it to you. It’s irrelevant, Arianna. We seem destined to work together on this. To know the truth.”
    She cocked her head. “I never would’ve pegged you as a fatalist.”
    â€œThings happen. If you don’t accept them and move on, you wallow in it. Blaming fate is a good enough excuse.”
    â€œIt’s not good to wallow,” she said, the beginnings of a smile forming.
    â€œDefinitely not.”
    â€œOkay.” She rubbed her hands along her thighs. “Okay. We’ll partner up. The cop and the P.I. Strange bedfellows, as Scott said.”
    â€œâ€˜Strange’ isn’t the word I would use.” Extraordinary. Incredible. Premier. For a second he thought she might blush, but she didn’t. She did ignore his comment, however.
    â€œWhen do you want to get started?” she asked.
    â€œYou name it. Tomorrow. Tonight. You’re welcome to spend the night.”
    â€œI can’t,” she said instantly. “I have an early meeting and a full day. I can come after work.”
    â€œThat’s fine. I have plenty to do.”
    She stood, so he did, too. “Is everything done at your parents’ house?”
    â€œNo. But it’s getting there.” He pointed to the packet she still clutched. “I think you should leave that here.”
    She pulled it tighter. “Why?”
    â€œBecause you’ll stay up all night trying to make sense of it. You need some sleep.”
    â€œIf I leave it, you’ll do the same.”
    â€œI won’t. Put it down, Arianna. It’ll be safe here.”
    â€œI want to make copies of everything, just in case.”
    â€œI’ll do that tomorrow.” He slid it from her hands. “Get some rest. I’ll have dinner for you tomorrow.”
    He wanted to ask her if she was okay to drive. He wanted to drive her home himself. Better yet to have her stay with him, sleep beside him. Just sleep. But he knew what her answer would be.
    The moment grew more awkward. They’d made love. Shouldn’t they kiss good-night? She