“How does Pat’s murder affect you?” he pressed.
“Unless you’ve caught the person who’s responsible, it affects everyone, doesn’t it?”
He shoved away from the railing. “That’s it? You’re worried about safety?”
“I think we all are.”
“Pat’s murder doesn’t hold any special significance to you.”
“I’m sad it happened.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
She ruffled her hair again. As short as it was, she couldn’t do any damage. “Then I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re after.”
“This doesn’t relate to your uncle or your ex-husband?”
“No.”
“Do you know anything about why it occurred? Who might be responsible?”
Guilt stabbed her like a knife to the gut. It was possible she did. If what she feared was true, she should say something. But what if she was wrong? The information she had to offer could derail the investigation as easily as help it…?.
It was better to wait. Why ruin the life she’d created here, which she was so intent on protecting, if she didn’t have to? “Of course not. What makes you think I might?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Something’s up with you. I can’t figure out what it is but—”
“I already explained.”
“When you told me about your ex-husband.”
“That’s right.”
“And his name is…”
Fresh alarm curled through Vivian’s veins. She couldn’t give him Tom’s name in case Myles used it to dig up her real identity. And yet she couldn’t come up with a good excuse not to. “I don’t even want to say it.”
“Because…”
Shit. She’d thought a quick mention of her abusive ex would put an end to the sheriff’s queries, provide an excuse for her secrets, but it’d only made him hungry for details. After two years in this place, she’d broken down and done exactly what she’d sworn she’d never do—she’d shared a specific detail that could, if she wasn’t careful, unravel the whole truth.
“Because he’s part of my past and I won’t revisit those years,” she said.
He turned her arm so he could see the scar Tom had left. “Tell me about this.”
Thanks to years of healing, the initials her ex had carved with his pocketknife weren’t as visible as they’d once been. Even if Myles could decipher them, there wasn’t much he could do with TH. But the possibility that she could be underestimating him added to her anxiety.
“There’s no need to go over it.” She pulled her arm out of his grasp. “It’s not related to anything.”
“Did you kill him?” His eyes seemed to drill a hole right through her.
“Who? My ex-husband? Of course not!”
Lines formed on his forehead. “Then why won’t you tell me about him?”
She stood. “Because it has nothing to do with you or…or this town…or Pat’s murder.”
“Are you on the run, Vivian?”
“No!”
“Then what?”
“I just want to mind my own business, to be left alone!”
He looked disappointed. “Thanks for the trust.”
“Why should I trust you? We barely know each other!”
“Is that right?”
“Yes! We—we’re neighbors, nothing more,” she said, but couldn’t quite meet his gaze because what they’d done in her dreams was certainly more intimate than anything that would occur between strangers.
He lowered his voice to a muted growl. “Then why do you find excuses to come outside whenever I’m working in the yard?”
Her mouth dropped open. This was the last thing she’d expected. “I—I don’t!”
“And why do you follow my every move when you think I’m not aware that you’re there?”
Oh, God… Heat rose to her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The invitation you extended last night didn’t come out of nowhere, Vivian. There are plenty of other men in Pineview who’d gladly take you to bed. But, to my knowledge, you’ve never had any of them over here.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t!”
“Yes, it does. That’s not your style. What happened last night didn’t come from wanting to get laid as much as it came from all the hours you’ve watched me…like I’ve watched you.”
It was difficult to speak with her heart in her throat, but she had to make the effort, had to reel in the emotions that seemed to be exploding between them. “Look, I’ve already tried to explain. Last night was a—a mistake. One you won’t have to worry about me repeating. I don’t know what I was thinking or…or feeling, but…it was just a weak moment, okay?”
“And now you regret it.”
“Exactly.”
“Would you regret it as much if I’d said yes?”
“Probably more,” she admitted.
“That’s why I refused.”
She narrowed her eyes. If he wasn’t going to let her get away with anything, she’d hold him to the truth, too. “That isn’t the reason.”
“Then what is?”
“You’re afraid of me. Afraid of what you don’t know.”
He ignored the accusation. “About that gun…”
Her stomach muscles tightened. “What about it?” Would he confiscate her Sig? She got the impression he was considering it. But now that she’d made the decision to keep the weapon close at hand, she didn’t want to lose the advantage it could give her.
“It’s dangerous to have it in the house.”
It was more dangerous not to have it, which was why Virgil had given her the Sig in the first place. “I’ll be careful.”
“Do you really need it? I mean…I’m right next door.”
With a thirteen-year-old. No way would she get him involved if The Crew came to call. The Crew would kill him and Marley, just like they’d butchered that U.S. marshal…?.
The panic she’d felt as she called 9-1-1 that night a few years ago returned to her mind, along with the memory of the marshal’s blood, still warm, as she tried to hold the wound in his neck closed. She couldn’t let anything like that happen again. Ever. Which meant she had to control herself and her emotions. “Thank you, but…I can take care of myself.”