“I can manage,” she said. But she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to get more than two feet from Sam’s side right then, and frankly, the thought of spending the night alone in a strange, impersonal hotel room didn’t appeal in the least.
Sam shook his head and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll go with you. We don’t want you accidentally tromping on evidence, after all.”
She let him guide her toward the front door of her house, belatedly turning back to the chief. “It was nice meeting you, Chief Skinner,” she said, holding out a hand.
He had a notepad in one hand and a cell phone in the other, but he gave her a nod, attempted a sympathetic smile, then moved toward his officers.
“Come on, Meg.” Sam led her into the house, straight to her bedroom. He stood just inside the bedroom door, looking around. “Do you think he came in here at all?”
“I don’t think he had time,” she said. “Nothing’s out of place. He was coming through the kitchen, maybe made it almost into the living room by the time I got out and ran. And then you were there. I imagine he went right back out when he heard your car.”
“Thank God the hospital’s only five minutes away.”
“The hospital is fifteen minutes away, Sam.” She tipped her head up to look at him.
“Yeah, well, I’m trained in high-speed techniques.”
“You were worried about me.”
“I was freaking petrified.”
She smiled just a little. “Thanks for that.”
He shrugged, averting his eyes. She decided to let it go for now, but God, it did her good to know he felt the power of what was between them as clearly as she did. And to know it wasn't all pretend, on his part. She tugged an overnight bag from a shelf in her closet, tossed it onto the bed, then went to her dresser to open drawers. She pulled things out almost at random, her attention not on the job as she tucked items into the bag. In the end she didn’t even know what she’d packed. She was too busy analyzing what was happening between her and Sam, wondering what her dreams had been telling her all this time, speculating on the killer’s reasons for coming after her tonight.
“You need anything from the bathroom? Toothbrush, makeup?”
She nodded vaguely, realizing she had gone still with her hands buried in her top drawer. She shook herself, then went into the bathroom off her bedroom and gathered more items. “What do you think he wanted?” she asked.
Sam stood in the bedroom, beyond her range of vision. “We don’t even know for sure it was him.”
“Of course we do. Your Chief Skinner does, too. At least, he didn’t disagree.”
She heard Sam sigh.
“He seems nice, Chief Skinner. Even if he doesn’t believe I’m for real.”
“He’s a decent guy. Taught me everything I know about being a cop.”
She frowned, coming out of the bathroom with her hands full of things from her counter. Hairbrush, makeup, deodorant, toothbrush. She stood in the doorway, where she could see him. “I would have thought your dad would have done that.”
He looked at her sharply. “You know about my father?”
She shrugged, moving to the bed to drop her collection into her overnight case. “I got curious. Did a little internet research on you tonight.”
“Why?”
“I told you earlier, I got the feeling you were being less than honest with me about something. I thought maybe I could find a clue what.”
He sighed. “And I told you, I’ve got nothing to hide from you, Megan. My father was killed in the line of duty. I was only a kid at the time.”
She nodded slowly, bent over her bag to zip it up. “What happened to him?”
“Liquor store robbery. He and his partner showed up before the perps got out of the store. One took the back door, one the front. Bad guys decided to shoot their way out the back. Dad chose the wrong door.”
She felt the heartache in his words, the loss. It still hurt. “I’m sorry.”
“Skinner opened fire, got them both. Too late, though. Dad was already down.”
“Skinner? The chief was your father’s partner?”
He nodded. “It hit him as hard as it did the rest of us, I think. He took us under his wing after that. I think he felt like it should have been him instead of Dad. He didn’t have a wife or kids.”
“Survivor’s guilt,” she said.
“Yeah, I guess so. He was there for us after that. Kind of stepped in, took care of things my father would have. My grandmother resented it, I think, him stepping into her son’s place. But the rest of us were awfully glad to have him around.”
“God, it must have been awful for your mother. How many kids did she have?”
“Three. My two sisters and me. And my grandmother, to boot.” He moved to the bed, picked up her bag. “You ready?”
“I can’t find Percy.”
He frowned.
“My cat.” She looked in all Percy’s usual hiding places–under the bed, in the bathtub, in the closet–all the while wondering if she wanted to pry further than she had into Sam’s personal history, and decided she might as well. “Your grandfather died in the line of duty, too, the paper said.”
He frowned at her. “You really have been snooping, haven’t you?”
“The article mentioned it.”
“Yeah, he died on duty, too. Car wreck. Anything else you want to know, Megan?”
“Quite a lot, actually.”
He watched her face, waiting, his own seeming clouded or angry or something.
“But not now.” Did he seem a bit relieved by that? Hard to be sure. “The Windsor’s right in town, ten minutes from here. I can get a room there. I’m sure they aren’t booked up this time of year.” She looked around, but there was still no sign of Percy. “There’s plenty of food and water here. I guess he’ll be all right.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine. But you’re not going to the Windsor.
“I’m not?”
“No. I want you someplace safe, someplace this guy wouldn’t think to look for you, just in case your hunch is right.”
She blinked. “And what place would that be?” she asked.
He sighed. “Mine. If you're okay with that.”
“I’m okay with that."
“Good.” He actually smiled a little, and it lightened the somber mood brought on by what had happened tonight, and by her morbid, probing questions. “Because I’m going to pry into your past to pay you back for prying into mine. Come on.”
Chapter 7
“Did you get to see the girl from the park at the hospital tonight?” Megan asked, probably to change the subject.
He glanced at her as he drove, decided to let the matter of her snooping go, for now. “Yeah. Her name’s Linda Keller. I didn’t get much out of her, though. She didn’t get a look at the guy, and was still too shaken up to give me anything helpful.”
“Maybe ... I could see her.”
He blinked, looking at her face, her eyes. She was still trying to help, even after all she’d been through tonight. “I don’t know if you noticed, Megan, but being involved in this might have put you at risk.”