Free MIND READER by Vicki Hinze Page B

tremble. “I’m sorry, Caron.”
    “Fine.”
    If her voice got any tighter, she’d squeak, but she didn’t move her hand. The top of hers nestled under his palm. Warm. Tiny. Fragile. When he knew what she was, what she’d done, how could she strike him in that way? How could she make him want to prove her innocent? How could she touch him emotionally?
    They lapsed into silence. Rain pattered against the windows and the hood of the car, steady, rhythmic, relaxing. The silence wasn’t heavy, Caron decided, just indicative of both of them being tied up in their own thoughts. She watched the drops hit, bead into balls and glisten in the glow from the streetlamp. Rubbing her leg with her free hand, she wondered why Parker was still holding her other hand. Why didn’t he move it? Why didn’t she? Did not be ing alone in this situation feel that good?
    “Where do you come from?” Parker asked.
    “Here.” She rubbed harder, grazing her shin. Her leg felt swollen, but it wasn’t.
    “Me, too.” He sighed. “You are single, aren’t you?”
    “What?”
    “Single,” he repeated. “As in no husband to hunt me down for being alone with you in a dark car.”
    “I wish I was married. You could use a little attitude adjustment. But, no, I’m not.”
    She studied the feel of her leg, wishing she’d worn a skirt instead of slacks so that she could better isolate the pain. The girl must be injured. Caron sensed swelling.
    “Do you have family here?”
    “They’re in Mississippi.” She glanced at him. “You?”
    “My mother and Megan.” He let his head loll back against the seat. “You remind me of her.”
    “Who?”
    “My mother.”
    Caron grimaced. “Just what a girl wants to hear.”
    That remark earned her a grin that was more lethal than his smile. “Yeah, well...She’s a special woman.”
    “Most mothers are.”
    “Do I detect an ‘except mine’ somewhere in there?”
    “No.” Caron fiddled with the keys dangling from the ignition. “Including mine.”
    “Hmm...” Her words said one thing, her tone some thing else. Her relationship with her mother was strained; he’d have bet his license on it. “What about your dad?”
    She stiffened. “I haven’t seen him for a long time.”
    Pain etched her voice, and Parker just couldn’t make himself push her. He rubbed her thumb with his.
    After a long moment, he looked over at her. The strain was still there, around her eyes, but she was in control again. “You haven’t told me what Sandy said about Decker.”
    Caron paused, then decided that if he was to be of any use to her, Parker had to know what was going on.
    She wished for the hundredth time that she could read his thoughts. She couldn’t read Sandy, because she refused to probe. That wasn’t the problem with Parker. But she was positive she’d figured it out. It was so basic, so simple that she couldn’t believe it had stumped her. Physical awareness dulls psychic awareness. The moment she’d looked into his eyes, her awareness of Parker Simms had tossed her into a total psychic shutdown. “Sandy didn’t find any thing on Decker. Not even a traffic violation.”
    “And?”
    Caron held off a sigh. So Parker knew there was more. Sandy had said Parker was sharp; that, at least, had been the truth. “And there’s still no report of any abduction.”
    “So we still have no hard evidence.”
    “Ina saw Decker getting a girl’s bike out of his car trunk. It was lavender...just like the bike I imaged.”
    “Mmm.” Parker stretched out, rested his arm on the back of the seat. “We need more.”
    They did. But at least he wasn’t disputing her images. That was progress. Only then did it occur to her just how much she wanted him to believe her.
    Her stomach rumbled.
    “Didn’t you get enough to eat?” he asked.
    Her hand felt cold without his covering it. She buried it in her lap. “Too much.”
    “Why’s your stomach still growling?”
    His fingertip brushed her nape. Caron