Free FATAL FORTY-EIGHT: A Kate Huntington Mystery (The Kate Huntington Mysteries Book 7) by Kassandra Lamb Page B

trying to raise Lisa pretty much singlehandedly, while I have to drop everything and travel at a moment’s notice, to God knows where for God knows how long.”
    He ran a hand through his hair again. “I offered to resign, but she said no, that I’d be miserable. Then she said it was probably too late anyway, that she’d had to harden her heart against the thought of losing me for so long that she’d stopped loving me.”
    Kate could relate somewhat. Skip’s work wasn’t as dangerous as a law enforcement officer’s, but it was sometimes risky. It had taken her years to let go of the constant anxiety that something would happen to him, that he would die like Eddie had. Not that she didn’t still worry, but it wasn’t a constant companion anymore. She hadn’t hardened her heart, though. She’d just come to the conclusion that living in constant fear accomplished nothing. What would be, would be.
    She patted Tim’s shoulder. “I meant to bring up a cheerful subject. Guess I failed.”
    He gave her a small smile. “How about you? Any kids?”
    She smiled back. “Two. Six and almost eight.”
    “Who’s watching them today?”
    “Their nanny. They’re starting to get too old for a nanny, but Maria’s been with us since right after Eddie died. She’s one of the family now.”
    Talking about other things seemed to be working. Tim was perking up.
    “I feel bad,” Kate added. “She’s usually off on the weekend. And we got a new puppy recently. Our cat, Peaches, is insanely jealous of him. She keeps attacking him when he’s sleeping, and then he thinks she wants to play.”
    Tim’s face relaxed some more as she regaled him for several minutes with the antics of the animals.
    When she paused for breath, he put his hand on her arm. Again, a warmth spread outward from it, up her arm to her chest and down to her fingers. They tingled.
    “Kate, I, uh, I was wondering if you’d have some dinner with me?”
    “What? It’s not dinnertime yet?”
    “No, not tonight. I meant when all this is over with.”
    “Like in a date?” she blurted out.
    He nodded, his eyes anxious.
    Oh, shit! I didn’t mean to lead him on.
    She was a little shocked as well. He didn’t seem to be the type who would ask a married woman out. But then what did she know about him really?
    “Tim,” she said quietly, “I’m not available.” She tugged her arm out from under his hand and wiggled her fingers. The overhead light sparkled on her diamond ring.
    Confusion crowded out the anxiety on his face. “Yeah, but you said it had been a long time. I thought maybe you might be ready to move on.”
    What the hell is he talking about?
    Understanding dawned. He thought she was still wearing Eddie’s rings, as widows often did. As she had, until the night Skip proposed.
    “Tim, I have moved on. I remarried in 2007.”
    He broke eye contact and turned his head away. A red tide crept up his cheeks. “Oh, boy,” he muttered softly.
    “Skip Canfield is my husband.”
    His head whipped back around. “The big, buff guy?”
    “You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Kate said, although she knew what he meant. Aikido classes three times a week kept her in shape, but still the lovely and voluptuous Julie Wallace was more in Skip’s league, in terms of physical attractiveness, than she was.
    “Oh, man,” Tim said. “I’m being a jerk all over the place here. Of course I think you’re a very attractive woman, or I wouldn’t have, you know…”
    “You’re not being a jerk at all. I’m flattered. I truly am.”
    And a little tempted , a tiny voice said in the back of her head. She shushed it.
    “Maybe we should get back to the case,” she said.
    His nod was vigorous.
    “You said the torture marks were similar on all five of the New Haven victims. Do you have crime scene photos for them?”
    He tapped his tablet sitting on the table in front of him. “Are you sure you want to look at them?”
    “I can handle it.”
    Tim called up