Time of Death. BEVERLY BARTON
won’t keep you long,” he said.
“That’s all right. I’m in no hurry.”
“I just thought that maybe you … Well, it is Friday night, and—”
“I don’t have a date.”
“Good.” His cheeks blotched with embarrassment. He coughed and then cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean it’s good that you don’t have a date. I meant it’s good that I’m not keeping you from anything important.”
“I knew what you meant.”
He nodded. “You didn’t move in with Maleah last night.” He worded it as a statement of fact, not a question.
“No, she actually spent the night at my house and left early this morning. She was expecting Seth over for breakfast. And Derek Lawrence was supposed to arrive sometime this morning to assist her with my case.”
“Is she staying with you again tonight?”
“No, I’m going home this evening, packing a few things, and moving in with Maleah until further notice.” Lorie wished Mike would stop looking right at her. His intense scrutiny unnerved her. “What is it? Do I have dirt on my face? A black hair growing out of my chin?”
“Huh?”
“You’re staring at me as if I’ve suddenly grown an extra head or something.”
“Sorry. I … uh … Why don’t I follow you home and then escort you over to Maleah’s after you pack a bag.”
Had she heard him correctly? Was Sheriff Birkett, the man who thought she was only one step above pond scum, actually worried about her?
“Why?” she asked.
“Why what?”
“Why the pretense of being concerned about my welfare?”
“I’m the sheriff. You’re a citizen of my county whose life has been threatened. I’m just doing my civic duty.”
“Bull. You could have sent a deputy to check on me.”
“You’ve been monitored all day today,” he told her. “Between my men and Chief Ballard’s police force, somebody’s been by here every hour since you arrived at Treasures this morning.”
“So to what do I owe the honor of your visit this evening? Why put yourself out for little old me?”
“Damn it, Lorie, that smart mouth of yours—” Grimacing, he clenched his teeth together and snorted. “I came by here to apologize.”
“What?”
Their gazes met and locked. For a split second, she thought she saw something achingly familiar in the way he looked at her. But the expression vanished so quickly that she realized she had probably imagined it.
“I let my personal feelings get in the way of doing my job,” he admitted. “I had no right to assume you were lying about being threatened and to dismiss your concerns as if they were nothing. I’m sorry.”
To say she was stunned was a gross understatement. She never thought she would live to see the day that Mike would ever again apologize to her for anything.
“I’m sorry, too,” she told him. “I’m sorry that I gave you reasons to believe I’d do anything to get back into your good graces. I should have accepted the fact, years ago, that you didn’t want to have anything to do with me … and with good reason.”
He shuffled uncomfortably. “Yeah, sure. Apology accepted. So, what about you?”
She forced a fragile smile. “Apology accepted.”
“Good. Why don’t I help you close up shop and then I’ll follow you home.”
“There’s nothing to do except turn out the lights, get my purse, and lock the back door on my way out.”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said. “You’re parked in back, right?”
“Right.”
She glanced at him briefly. He smiled. Her nerves tingled with awareness. This was the first time since her return to Dunmore that Mike had smiled at her.
Don’t make too much of it. He’s just doing his best to be civil, to do his job, to prove to you and Maleah—and probably to Jack and Cathy—that he won’t allow his personal feelings to interfere with doing his duty.
Mike loaded Lorie’s suitcase into her Edge SUV and closed the hatch. “All set?”
“Yes, but it’s really not necessary for you to escort me to Maleah’s. I’m sure you’d rather be home having dinner with your children.”
“Hannah and M.J. are visiting Molly’s parents over in Muscle Shoals this weekend. Carl and Gail picked them up right after school today. They stay with them on average one weekend a month and they go over for a couple of weeks every summer.”
“I know your wife’s parents appreciate your being so generous with the kids.”
“It’s what Molly would have wanted.”
Lorie smiled and nodded before moving away from him and grasping the driver’s side door handle. “I’m ready to go.”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
As soon as she pulled out of her driveway, he started the truck’s engine and fell in behind her. He really wasn’t sure why he was doing this.
Paying penance, maybe.
His feelings for Lorie hadn’t changed. He still hated her, still wished she would leave Dunmore and never come back, still wanted to drag her off to the nearest bed and fuck her like crazy.
But he owed her the common courtesy of showing her that the sheriff’s department intended to do everything possible to keep her safe. He might despise Lorie, but he couldn’t bear the thought of someone killing her. She might deserve some of the bad things that had happened to her, but she didn’t deserve to die.
You’re an idiot, Birkett. A damn idiot.
Lorie didn’t deserve any of the bad things that had happened to her. Just because she’d left him high and dry, had broken his heart and nearly destroyed him didn’t mean she should be punished forever for wanting a life he couldn’t be a part of. She had begged him to go to LA with her.
“Oh, Mike, it’ll be so much fun,” she had said. “We can both get jobs. You can go to school at night until you get your degree and I can sign with an agent and get small parts in TV at first. And later on, when you’re a big-time LA detective and I’m a movie star, we’ll be the envy of every other couple in Hollywood. Just think how romantic that is—the detective and the actress.”
Those had been her dreams, not his. She had wanted a glamorous life surrounded by the rich and famous. All he’d ever wanted was to finish college, work for local law enforcement, get married, and raise a family. He was a simple man with simple wants and needs. Lorie had been—and probably still was—a complicated woman with the kind of wants and needs he could never fulfill.
It had been his choice to stay in Dunmore and not follow her to LA. At first, she had called him every day, then every week and then every month. He would never forget the last time she’d called and the things they had said to each other.
“Honey, forget all that fame and fortune bullshit and come home where you belong.”
“Oh, Mike, why can’t you understand? I just got a speaking part on a Law and Order episode. I want you to be happy for me. I want you to fly out here and—”
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“Yeah, okay. I won’t. I don’t belong out there and neither do you.”
“That’s