“Because of the structure? The protocols?” He’s genuinely curious, not pushing. But it still feels like an interrogation. “Or because you wanted to help people in a different way?”
Both. Neither. I don’t know anymore.
“Marco doesn’t like talking about his service.” Rachel’s voice cuts through the conversation. She’s appeared beside Paul with a bowl of chips. “Paul, your wife’s looking for you. Something about needing help with the dessert setup.”
“Oh, right. Thanks, Rachel.” He nods at me. “Good meeting you, Marco.”
He walks away, and I’m left standing there with Rachel, who’s watching me with those green eyes that see too much.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say.
“Do what?”
“Rescue me from the conversation.”
“Looked like you needed rescuing.” She sets the chips down on the nearest table. “You had that expression people get when they’re about to bolt.”
“I don’t bolt.”
“Everyone bolts sometimes.” She glances toward where Tommy’s still running around with his water gun. “Paul means well, but he doesn’t know when to stop asking questions.”
“Neither do I.”
She laughs. Slight sound, but real. “Fair point. Comes with the job, I guess.”
We stand there for a moment, and I realize this is the first time we’ve talked when I’m not interrogating her about a fire. The first time, she’s not a witness, and I’m not an investigator.
She’s just Rachel. And I’m just… what? Jake’s friend? The guy who pulled her out of traffic? The investigator who keeps showing up in her life uninvited?
“How’s the case going?” she asks. “The café fire. Any leads?”
“Not yet. It’s complicated.”
“Everything’s complicated lately.” She adjusts the strap of her sundress, and I force myself not to notice how the fabric moves against her skin. “Jake’s excited about Alaska. Scared, but excited.”
“He should go. It’s a good opportunity.”
“That’s what I told him.” She looks at me directly. “He’s worried about leaving me alone. Worried I can’t handle things.”
“Can you?”
“I’ve been handling things my entire life. This isn’t any different.”
But her voice wavers slightly on the last word, and I realize she’s not as certain as she wants to be.
“You’re not alone,” I say before I can stop myself. “Jake’s got friends here. We’ll keep an eye on things while he’s gone.”
“We?”
“Cole. Theo. Me.” I take a drink of my beer to avoid looking at her. “You need something, you call one of us.”
“That’s very protective of you.”
“That’s very practical of me. Jake’s my friend. Making sure his sister’s okay is basic friendship maintenance.”
“Is that what this is? Friendship maintenance?”
There’s something in her tone. Something I can’t quite identify. Not flirting. Not exactly. More like she’s testing something and seeing how I react.
