deep, but, according to the M.E., they only nicked a few organs and no arteries, they bled to death slowly. With so many people, how did he prevent someone from finding them sooner?” His question was rhetorical, but when she offered a hasty, and poorly worded answer, he guessed that it had just sprang to mind, too sudden and shocking for her to hold it in, or even think it through completely.
“He was waitin’ for me...” Her drawl was thick, coated in fear, and her face was paler than it had been. His eyes were on her as a ripple of shock tore through her finely crafted features.
“What? Why would he wait for you? What makes you think that?” She knew something more, and now he was sure of it. He was staring at her when a shiver lit over her arms, making some foolish part of him reached out to her. The second his fingers touched her shoulder he regretted it. She rounded on him, all fury and no grace.
“If you have an accusation to make, make it! Otherwise, could you please refrain from touching me?” The ice in her voice almost burned him. So lovely and so cold, what had really happened so long ago to make her this way, he wondered, as he hastily retracted his dejected hand. “Everything about this was so planned, methodical, why not assume that I was meant to find it. Considering the phrase and the dress...” Her words faltered when she realized her mouth had betrayed her. She had said something she hadn’t intended to, and he pounced.
“What about the dress, Cord?” His voice was commanding and strict and she squirmed under his gaze. Part of him wanted to back down, but she had withheld information that could be important, something he, as her training office, could not overlook.
“It was just like the one my mom...was wearin’.” Her voice faltered and he heard that sweet southern drawl again. In spite of himself, he probed farther into the painful memory.
“And that wasn’t important until now because?” He very nearly growled at her. Why ? It was so obviously painful for her, and she hadn’t held it back for too long. So why did he feel so betrayed? Why did this girl, whom he had barely met, cause him such disquiet? Forcing his anger to ebb back, he cleared his throat and tried to ask his question again, with less hostility, if possible. “I mean, if you are the target, that’s something I should know sooner rather than later, don’t you think? How am I supposed to protect you if I am taking you to a crime scene meant to affect you specifically?”
“Protect me?” Her laughter was shrill and forced and he realized that this wasn’t really funny to her in the slightest. “Honestly, didn’t Moreano tell you anything about me?” Chuckling coldly, she turned and moved out of the stagnate, tented scene and back into the lobby.
“Damn it...” he cursed and followed behind her. By the time he cleared the tarp, she was pushing the door open. Chasing after her, he called out, making her stop a moment and look back at him. “Yes, protect you, that’s what partners do, or did Moreano not tell you that?”
A gray storm rose in her eyes and her plump lips pinched in anger. The sight very nearly sent he hurdling toward her, teetering between rage and desire. He was normally so smooth and deliberate. Until this morning he had been the youngest person promoted to detective. With two years in the army and only one year as a patrolman, he had impressed every superior officer and instructor he had ever had with his cool head, balanced temper, and kind demeanor. Why, then, did he lose himself in fits of irrational emotions, specifically anger, every time this wisp of a woman even looked at him?
“Perhaps I should ask for protective custody, run and hide until I’m no longer in danger. Is that what you suggest?” Her voice came out far calmer than she felt. He was very near to finding out just how little protection she really needed. Her retort seemed to enrage him even more and for a