She continued to stand frozen, waiting for her breath and strength to return. She closed her eyes a moment, gripping the door frame, and wondered how the hell they were going to handle this. Like it had never happened, she decided.
But it had.
Finally, cussing under her breath, she dressed and went out to face the music.
Except there was no music. Toast and bacon heaped on two plates at the table, two mugs of steaming coffee and Cade busy looking over the notes he had written last night. He didn’t even look up as he said, “Good morning.”
She mumbled her response and sat across from him. It never happened. Except that she knew she’d be unable to forget that it had. Desires buried since she’d first set eyes on him and realized he didn’t want her for a partner, had broken free of their bonds, reminding her that she was a woman, and he was a damned attractive man. Basic. Simple. And oh so complicated in the present circumstances.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked casually, still not lifting his eyes from the notes he was leafing through.
“Lousy,” she admitted. “Nightmares.”
Finally he lifted his gaze, a brief glance. “Me, too. This case is getting at me in ways I’ve never had happen before. I don’t know if it’s the boys, the idea of this killer or what.”
“Yeah.” What else could she say? Biting into a strip of bacon gave her an excuse to say nothing at all.
“And these notes aren’t telling me any more this morning than they did last night. The evaluation by that psychologist is empty.”
“You think so, too?” She began to relax as the conversation remained work related. Male interest of any kind could easily send her into a self-defensive hyperdrive. It was one thing to feel an attraction herself; it was another to have it returned. Without fail, at those times she felt unsafe. “Generalizations. He could have been writing about almost any serial killer.”
“He sure as hell didn’t see any significance to the cargo netting.”
“Are you changing your mind?”
He lifted his gaze once again and this time didn’t look away so quickly. Control restored, she guessed. Good. “No. I think you’re right. This was staged as part of his ritual. The problem is, you can’t see any sense in it. Can’t feel what might be behind it. But it’s too elaborate to be anything else.”
She reached for a couple slices of toast, loaded on the bacon and made herself a sandwich. “Dreaming about it didn’t help, either. No brilliant bursts of insight from the subconscious. But when you think about it, Cade, an awful lot was involved in that staging. Getting the net strung on the trees, wrapping the bodies, getting them up there, hanging them. A hell of a lot of work, and the constant possibility of being discovered.”
“Maybe not so much before the resort started work. We need to talk with the guy at Masters General Contracting.”
“Should we call?”
“I already did. I got him on his phone at home, evidently.”
“A workaholic?”
“Yeah, like us.” Cade snorted. “We’re going to get the grand tour and big sales pitch today. Put on your high boots.”
“Waders might be better.” When he laughed, she decided that everything was definitely okay again. A momentary aberration, left in the past.