Page 40 of Hard Heart

“For what?”

“For…overstepping.”

“Don’t apologise for showing compassion. It’s becoming a lost art.”

She offered a shaky smile. “This wasn’t how I thought today would go. I thought you’d be…uh…”

“More murdery?”

“Not quite so vulnerable,” she said finally. “And perhaps a little more murdery.”

A soft knock on the door heralded Jim’s return. He poked his head into the room. “Five minutes.”

Levi nodded. He had commitments. “Understood.”

“The possum is calling?” Serafina asked after the door closed again.

“Something like that. Thank you for coming, Serafina. This has been the highlight of my decade.”

He delivered the line as a joke, but he wasn’t fibbing.

“So, what happens now? Can I come back?”

“Do you want to?”

“We’re only halfway through the timeline. Maybe not even that far.”

“I’m a realist. It’s been good to get this off my chest, but I know I’m never walking out of here. A part of me thinks you should devote your time to more viable endeavours.”

“And the other part?”

“The other part wants to finish the story. To get my words out there. To give Justin sleepless nights.”

“Then I’ll come back.” She set her pen on the table. “Thanks for the coffee.”

As Jim led Levi from the room, he glanced back through the door for one last look at Serafina Hennessy. She had a quiet beauty. Eyes that sparkled like blue topaz, full pink lips, hair the colour of the afternoon sun that fell in loose waves around her shoulders. She didn’t wear make-up because she didn’t need to. The last thing he saw was her fanning herself with the legal pad.

CHAPTER 14

SERAFINA

“Okay, fine, I admit it. I don’t think Sykes killed her.”

Heidi made an “I told you so” gesture with both hands, except she was holding a croissant, and bits of pastry flaked off and floated onto the floor. Sunday morning, and I was still half asleep from the long drive home, but I’d crawled to the kitchen to load up on caffeine because the bar exam wouldn’t study for itself.

“And he’s hot. You have to admit that too.”

“He’s reasonably handsome.”

No way was I mentioning the jailhouse muscles. Or the five o’clock shadow. Or the dimples, or the smile, or the soft brown eyes flecked with gold.

Or the way I’d touched him. The electric tingle I’d felt had been totally unexpected, and honestly, I hadn’t intended to reach out to him in that way. It had just…happened.

“Does he have any tattoos?”

“How the hell should I know? I didn’t ask him to strip naked.”

“I meant that you could see.” Oh. “They’re a thing in prison. Like, if a convict kills someone, they get a teardrop tattooed on their face.”