The raw pain in his beautiful gray orbs nearly knocked her off her stool. The ache in her heart grew, but this time it wasn’t because of Becca. She ached for him and whatever secrets he’d buried inside. She placed her hand on top of his on the counter, and Graham twisted his wrist so his palm faced up. Their fingers linked, and a rush of heat flooded her body.
“I’m sorry you’re in the middle of all this, and I’m even more sorry I made things worse by not trusting you,” he whispered.
Relief had her leaning forward and resting her head against his hard chest. He’d told her before they’d left the house in Old Town he believed her, but hearing it again was like salve on a burn. She could stop fighting so damn hard to prove her innocence and concentrate solely on finding Becca.
“Thank you.” His dirty shirt muffled her words, and she glanced up, her chin still resting against his collarbone. His warm breath slid across her forehead, and he skimmed her arm with his free hand. He was so damn close that the rapid beating of his heart echoed against her.
She leaned back and the gentle touch of his long fingers against her stopped. He lifted his hand and tipped her chin up with his index finger. His eyes searched hers, as if waiting for some sort of signal or answer to an unasked question. Her pulse picked up and she moistened her lips, preparing for what she hoped was to come.
Graham’s mouth pressed down on hers, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. For a split second the nightmare of the last few days fled her mind, and she focused on the feel of the warm-blooded man in front of her. But the moment ended, and Graham pulled away. Reality crashed back down on her, and she glanced down. Her mud-caked feet and streaked skirt stared back at her, and humiliation heated her cheeks. No wonder Graham only wanted to give her a small peck on the lips. She had to look like death, and no doubt didn’t smell much better.
“Umm…could I grab a shower? I don’t want to sleep before I wash away the filth of the day.”
Graham shot to his feet, and the legs of his stool scraped against the hard wood. “Absolutely,” he said, his voice coming out thick and sexy as hell. “Everything you need is in the bathroom. I’m going to clean up the kitchen really quick. Do you want something to sleep in?”
“A shirt would be great. I need to wash my clothes, too. I have to work in the morning.”
Graham nodded and grabbed the dishes, clearing them before placing them in the sink. “No problem. I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks.” Mickey stood and turned to search for the bathroom. Two doors occupied the wall on the opposite side of the living room. She swept her gaze around the tidy living space. Nothing out of place except an opened laptop on the coffee table surrounded by scattered papers and files.
All the blood drained from her face as she stared at the computer screen. She lifted a finger and pointed at the screen. “Who’s that?”
Graham stepped up beside her. “Who?”
Her gaze never left the computer. “Who’s the woman on the screen?”
Graham turned toward the computer and tilted his head to the side. “Paula Williams. Her mom used to live with Pete’s father. Why?” He narrowed his gaze at her.
“She looks exactly like Becca, only about fifteen years older.”
Graham stepped around the sofa and stopped in front of the coffee table. He shuffled around the papers and pulled out a picture. His eyes squinted at the corners and then widened as he glanced up at her. “You’re right. The coloring, the face shape, even the way the hair curls at the ends. My God, they could be mother and daughter…or sisters.”
The back of the sofa pressed into her abdomen as she leaned forward to get a better look at the screen. “She looks more like her than Suzi does, and Becca looks a lot like her mother.” Her eyes scanned the information listed beside the picture. “She lives in Mexico?”
Graham bent down and closed the laptop. “Mickey, I told you, I can’t discuss the investigation with you.”
She planted her balled fists on her hips. “Even after everything we’ve been through tonight?” Her chin quivered, making her words tremble. His continuing to shut her out hurt more than she wanted to admit.
The corners of his mouth dipped down in a small frown and he walked over to her. He laid a hand on her shoulder and met her gaze. His eyes weren’t so intense this close. The gray not so unrelenting. “Even after tonight. Grab a shower. It’s been a long night.”
A beat passed before she gave in. “Fine.” She turned and walked toward the bathroom. She’d weaseled her way into enough of the investigation and needed to leave it to Graham. But as she stepped into the hot spray and rinsed the dirt and sweat out of her hair, one thing kept circling in her mind…the address beside Paula’s picture on the computer screen.
Casa Del Mar 500, Playa Del Carmen.
What an easy address to remember.
Darkness surrounded her.Her hands reached out and brushed up against the cold stone of the walls that encased her on either side. She tried to turn in a circle, but the walls moved in, wedging her between them. Her heels dug into the dirt floor and she used all of her body weight to try to push the wall back.
It didn’t work.
Panic gripped her heart and she clawed at the stone. A fingernail snapped and she yelped in pain and sucked on the wounded finger. A bright light shone from the distance and she turned her shoulders to the side to shimmy down the damp tunnel. She reached toward the light, but the more she walked the farther away the light moved.
“Help!” A shrill voice pierced the air.
She turned her head to the side. Who was that? Was someone down here with her? “Who’s there?” Her voice bounced back at her and echoed off the walls.
“Why did you leave me with them?” The small voice sounded like a child’s and a shiver of fear ran down her spine. Becca?
