“Why would she feel guilty?” he asked.
She pretended she hadn’t been admiring him. She knew better than to get caught up in that, didn’t she? She was just too tired to fight her natural inclination. It’d been so long since she’d been with Jonah. She couldn’t help wondering if he kissed the same, touched the same…
Clearing her throat, she told herself it didn’t matter and answered his question. “She’s the one who encouraged April to try an online dating service. That’s how she met her own husband, so she was high on the idea and thought it might work for her sister.”
He made a clicking sound with his tongue. “That’s too bad.”
It was worse than “too bad,” but no words were adequate and she understood that.
Suddenly, Jonah looked over and saw her studying him again. She’d been searching for subtle changes in his body. His thighs were slightly thicker. His hands had a few more nicks and scars—or maybe they had a lot more. Hard to tell in the dim glow of the instrument panel. His biceps seemed more pronounced beneath the soft cotton sleeves of his Cabo San Lucas T-shirt.
She thought maybe he’d ask her what she was looking at, but he didn’t. Their eyes met and held, then his eyebrows jerked together as he returned his attention to the road. “Any chance you could get some sleep?” he asked.
Had he spoken merely to break a silence that had become too intense? She got that impression. There was no real expectation in the question. He knew how wound up she was, that it would be impossible to relax so soon. “No. First I need to decide whether or not to contact the people Dean mentioned.”
“You were staying with Heather. You didn’t tell her before you left?”
“She was already asleep when he called, and I wasn’t sure waking her was a good idea. She has no family in this part of the country and her boyfriend is in jail. Where would she go in the middle of the night with a three-year-old?” Refusing to let her gaze linger on him, she frowned and watched the pavement rush beneath their tires. “I wrote her a note, telling her not to divulge any information to Butch Vaughn, Paris Vaughn or Dean Wheeler, should they call, and to contact me in the morning so I could explain why I had to leave, but…maybe I should’ve done more.”
“What about Adriana?” he asked.
She’d planned on calling Adriana, but by the time she’d finished her conversation with Jill, Jonah had arrived to take her to Prescott. “I definitely need to call her.”
“What are you waiting for?”
Some privacy. She feared Adriana would pump her for information about Jonah, and she didn’t want him overhearing the whole thing. But it’d be after midnight by the time they got to Prescott. If she was going to warn Adriana, she’d better do it now. Adriana’s name had been in that stack of messages she’d received from Heather, too. As soon as she’d hung up with Jonah, Francesca had flipped through the rest of them, but she hadn’t yet tackled her voice mail. She’d started to, then heard that it was full and hung up. Twenty messages? Too many. She couldn’t deal with her regular clients in the midst of all this. Besides, quite a few of those messages were probably from Adriana. She was nothing if not persistent.
The phone rang twice before Adriana picked up.
“Where the heck have you been?”
“Dealing with a case.”
“A man by the name of Dean Wheeler called here. You must’ve left your purse in Prescott because he was trying to return it to you. I’ve called and called, hoping to get you, but—”
“He got hold of me. I’m heading there now. But I wanted to let you know about something that’s going on, something that has me worried.”
“What?” she asked, then fell silent as Francesca explained.
“This Butch guy came to your house?” she said when Francesca was done. “You were afraid he might try to break in when you woke me up last night, and you didn’t say a word?”
They’d been too busy talking about Jonah. “I didn’t want to scare you. I figured I could handle it myself. But now…I think you need to know that he might try to hurt me by hurting people I love. He has your address as well as your phone number. Tonight his brother-in-law, Dean, mentioned you and Josephine, even Heather and her son.”
“And you believe this man, this Butch, killed a woman?”
“I believe he may have killed a lot more than one.”
“My God, this is surreal. Like something out of a movie.”
“It’s not. Take it seriously, Adriana.”
“How?”
“Lock your doors and windows. Tell your husband to watch for any suspicious activity. Keep a cell phone handy in case you need to call the police.”
“You’re scaring the shit out of me,” she said.
“That’s what I’m trying to do. Then you’ll be cautious, watch out for strangers, look around whenever you leave the house.”
“What about you? So what if this guy has your purse? Maybe you should just let him keep it.”
“I’m hoping it’ll help maintain contact. If he’s focused on me, he won’t be out killing anyone else. I hope.”
There was a brief silence, then Adriana asked, “Does Jonah know about this?”
“Yes.”
“He called here earlier, too. He wanted me to give you the message that he’s trying to reach you.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” She wasn’t sure why she didn’t admit that he was sitting in the car next to her. Like everything else about the three of them, it was complicated.
Glad she’d given Adriana some notice, Francesca felt the tension begin to seep from her body. “I’ve got to go. I’ll check in tomorrow.”
“Francesca?”
She hesitated. “What?”
“If things between you and Jonah are heating up again, I hope…well, I hope you won’t let the past stand in the way of…of a reconciliation. If that’s what you want. If that’s what you really want.”
“It’s not what I want,” she said. She had no intention of asking for a second helping of the kind of hurt he’d dished out a decade before. For all she knew, he’d lied about having a girlfriend.
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Maybe he’s changed, Fran.”
“And maybe he hasn’t.”