“Sure you’re up for that?”
No. At the moment, she didn’t feel up for anything except this. Just this. Resting here with Luke. “I’m sure.”
Minutes passed during which she tried to convince herself that she could trust Luke’s promise not to risk himself.
“I’m sorry, Finley,” he whispered all of a sudden. “I hate that I didn’t keep you safe.”
“But you did.” Against the odds, he’d kept her alive. He’d gotten her help. “If it weren’t for you, they’d have killed me.”
“They almost did kill you.”
“Almost. But not quite.”
She could feel just how much he wished he’d been able to do more.
“I’m grateful to you,” she told him.
“No,” he said. “Don’t be grateful.”
“I can be grateful if I want to be. And I do.” She toyed with the collar of his T-shirt. His palpable anguish broke her heart. “I don’t blame you at all for what happened. What I’d like, very much, is for you to find a way not to blame yourself.”
Luke was incredibly loyal. But how much of this devotion could now be attributed to obligation? To pity? To a misplaced sense of responsibility over her injury? She desperately wanted him beside her . . . but not for those reasons. Not because he had a PhD in carrying guilt.
“The Vance brothers aren’t going to get away with what they did,” he vowed.
Apprehension pierced her.
She and Luke had come so far. She couldn’t stand to come this far only to watch vengeance tear him apart.
Trish and Kat’s voices stirred Finley awake the next morning.
Luke was gone. When she asked after him, they said he was at his apartment and would be back soon.
Her employees offered her the herbal tea they’d brought and chatted until a police officer arrived. He introduced himself as Detective Romano and said he’d come to take her statement.
“I’m very sorry,” Finley told him when they were alone. “I wishI could remember the things that happened that night, but I can’t. My doctors tell me this issue is common for someone who’s experienced a head injury like mine.”
“I understand.” Romano was of medium height. He had a wiry frame and a still, observant manner. The front middle of his brown hair looked like it wanted to remain on his forehead, but the sides had given up and receded. “Can you tell me what you do remember about the treasure hunt and the days leading up to Sunday?” he asked.
She recounted every detail until the point when her memories abruptly cut off.
“Ken Vance and his brothers admit that they were on the side of the mountain that night. They say they were out there for fun, enjoying a drive.” He scratched his cheek. “They saw Luke push you off the cliff and then place the gold in a backpack. They say they tried to intervene, but that Luke shot at them to protect the treasure.”
Fury swept hotly up Finley’s face. “That is a pack of lies.”
“How can you be sure?” he asked calmly.
“Because I know Luke.”
“He’s out on parole for felony theft.”
She wanted to scream. Her hands fisted in the hospital sheets. She’d never felt such a primal need to defend another human being in her life. The need was so all-consuming that it blotted out everything except one diamond-bright revelation, simultaneously earth-shattering and simple.
She loved Luke.
Heaven help her, she did.
“Are you all right?” Romano asked.
