Not because she didn’t want to kiss him. She did. Again and again. She knew that now. Knew it with a certainty, but she’d also figured out why he kept pulling back. He wasn’t over losing Lori, and he’d mixed up all those feelings about her with caring for Kat. Knowing that should make her feel better, but it didn’t.

  How could she when she was a stand-in for another woman?

  She needed a cup of tea to help her relax if she was going to get any sleep. She kicked off her slippers so as she went through the family room she wouldn’t make noise and wake him up. As she passed the sofa, she imagined him asleep, his guard down, looking vulnerable. With a silent groan over her traitorous thoughts, she hurried on and crashed into a small table, sending it wobbling.

  Mitch leaped up, his gun drawn.

  She jumped back. “Relax. It’s just me.”

  “Kat?” he asked, his voice low and gruff.

  “Yeah, who’d you think it would be?”

  He whooshed out a breath and switched on a lamp. He still wore his jeans, but had shed his shirt and a white T-shirt hugged his body. “Don’t you know better than to sneak around a house filled with people who own guns?”

  “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping.” For some reason his admission gave her hope again. Hope that maybe he wasn’t confused about Lori, but he’d lain awake thinking about her. Hope that the caring she’d seen in his eyes earlier really was just for her.

  She tipped her head at the kitchen. “I’m going to make some tea. You want some?”

  He watched her for a long moment, then shook his head. “But I’ll sit with you while you make it.”

  She heard his bare feet hitting the wood floor behind her on the way to the kitchen. She grabbed the teakettle and filled it with water.

  He took a stool across the island from her. “I’m sorry, Kat.”

  Surprised at his statement, she spun. “For what? Kissing me?”

  “No. I shouldn’t have done that, but I’m not sorry I did.” He let his gaze linger until she felt her face color. He came around the island and stood facing her. “What I’m apologizing for is barging in here tonight. Your family can take care of you. You don’t need me.”

  She did need him. That was now clear. But with all the turmoil between them, she wouldn’t tell him. “It’s okay, Mitch. I get it. Taking care of me is your way of working through losing Lori.”

  “That’s part of it, I guess.” He slipped a strand of hair behind her ear, and she had to work hard to concentrate on what he was saying.

  “And the other part?”

  “I like spending time with you. When you’re not with me, I miss you.” He smiled and the warmth of it had echoed in his words.

  “I like spending time with you, too,” she admitted and found it impossible not to return his disarming smile.

  He suddenly laughed. “I just never knew I’d have to battle your brother to get close enough to talk to you.”

  “Who, Cole?” she asked and he nodded. “You’d do the same thing for Angie if she was in this situation.”

  It was almost as if she threw a wet blanket over his head as his eyes darkened. “And more, I guess. Problem is I can’t help her.”

  “Hopefully she’ll agree to go to rehab tomorrow.”

  “I’m guessing she will, but what you said earlier is probably true. I’m the one pressing her to go. She has to want to do this on her own or she won’t stay in the program.”

  “Still it’s a start, right?”

  The teakettle whistled, and she turned away.

  He reached out and caught her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day. We should get some sleep.” He walked away and though she was tempted to watch him, the teakettle demanded her attention.

  She went to the stove and prepared a cup of chamomile. Probably the first of many because she knew without a doubt she’d spend the night remembering his gentle touch and not get a wink of sleep.

  FIFTEEN

  Outside the rehab center the next morning, tears glistened in Angie’s eyes while she hugged her brother. As she pushed out of Mitch’s arms, Kat could barely keep her own tears at bay as she watched them say goodbye.

  “It’ll be okay, bug,” he said, then took a few steps back. “I’ll come visit as soon as I’m allowed.”

  Kat was touched at his use of his sister’s nickname, and if Angie’s tears flowing over sunken cheeks were an indication, so was she.

  Mitch reached up as if to wipe them away, but then seemed to think better of it and shoved his hands in his pockets. Tears continued to prick Kat’s eyes. For Angie, yes, but mostly for the anguish on Mitch’s face. On the thirty-minute drive, Angie was sweating, shaking and huddled in a ball, not aware of what was going on, but Kat saw Mitch white-knuckle the steering wheel for the entire ride. He’d acted so tough so strong and optimistic for Angie, but he was hurting. Badly hurting.

  Angie turned to Kat and Mitch backed even farther away. “Thanks for keeping Mitch company on the ride.”

  Kat dug out one of her business cards and pressed it into Angie’s palm. “Feel free to call me if you need something and can’t get a hold of Mitch.”

  Angie flung her arms around Kat’s neck. “Please make sure he’s okay once you get on the road,” she whispered. “I love him so much, and I’ve done nothing but hurt him.”

  “I will,” Kat answered earnestly, but she wasn’t sure how she could help him or even if he’d let her.

  Angie leaned back. “You love him, too, don’t you?” she said so quietly Mitch couldn’t possibly have heard.

  Kat nodded. “Don’t worry about Mitch. I’ll take care of him, Angie.”

  Angie gave a clipped nod and after a long look at her brother, she rushed away.

  Kat took a few deep breaths and joined Mitch as he stood looking over the peaceful rolling hills of the property just outside the Portland metro area. The lush green landscape belied the harsh struggles of people inside this facility.

  “Weichert is expecting us.” He gestured at his car, his iron control back in place. Jaw tight. Mouth a flat line. Shoulders rigid. And she wanted to smooth it all away. To tell him things would be okay. But would they? Would Angie stay here? The odds were against her.

  They went to his car and, ever the gentleman, he opened her door and made sure she was seated before climbing behind the wheel.

  “She’ll be okay,” Kat said, sounding so lame and wishing she could’ve thought of something better to say.

  He didn’t respond as he eased the car out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

  “Not that I’ve gotten very good at this yet, but I know it would be a lot easier on you if you could leave this in God’s hands,” Kat said. “Would you like me to pray for her?”

  “Please.”

  Kat took his hand from where he rested it on the gearshift and twined her fingers with his. He glanced at her and his gaze held such tenderness that she had to draw in a deep breath before offering a prayer on Angie’s behalf. She finished her plea then squeezed his hand. She expected him to pull it free, but he didn’t move.

  “For the first time in a long time, I feel like that really might help,” he said and smiled at her. “Thanks to you.”

  She squeezed again, and he lifted her hand to his lips where he pressed a soft kiss before letting his hand settle on his knee, hers still held firmly by his.

  She should be thinking about their upcoming meeting with Weichert but thoughts about the wonderful man sitting next to her filled her mind. She took a quick look at their hands twined together and knew if she wanted to be happy, it was time for her let go of her past.

  To let God take charge. Once and for all, really let Him take charge.

  To trust Him no matter what happened and start living again.

  To live as she had before the fear of loss took over and maybe, just maybe, find that contentment that had been so elusive in her life.

  * * *

  “All right. Fine,” Weichert grumbled from behind his desk. “I knew about the letter. Knew about it, but didn’t do anything. So yeah, it’s my fault Nathan was killed. When my supervisor finds out, he’ll fire me. That’s why I had to cover it up.”

  Mitch actually felt sorry for the man, but he’d still have to pay for his mistakes. “Is there a reason you ignored the letter?”

  “We get threats all the time, but no one ever follows through on them. I thought this was just another one of those and we’re so overworked here that I didn’t want to take the time to check it out.”

  Mitch’s phone chimed Tommy’s ring tone. “Now would be a good time to start making up for stonewalling us and make a copy of Paul Granby’s file,” Mitch said as he dug out his phone. He was liking Granby for the attack, but he still needed to cover all bases so he added, “And I’d also like that list of Bodig’s coworkers, too.”

  Weichert hopped up and rushed out of the room.

  Mitch answered his phone and put it on speaker for Kat.

  “We got him,” Tommy’s excited reply came through the speaker.

  “What?” Kat asked.

  “Granby. We arrested him.” The excitement in Tommy’s voice said he was still on an adrenaline high.

  “Good job, partner,” Mitch said and watched Kat for her reaction. She seemed pleased but something else lurked in her eyes.

  “We’d like you to come down to the station, Kat,” Tommy went on. “I’ve arranged an auditory lineup. I’m hoping you can recognize Granby’s voice and ID him as the man who attacked you.”

  Kat visibly recoiled from the phone, her eyes filling with dread. Mitch had seen the same look in other victims’ eyes when they’d been called upon to see their attacker again and all the memories of their assaults came flooding back.

  “Kat,” Mitch said so she’d focus on him, not on her fears. “He’s in custody. He can’t hurt you.”

  “I know,” she replied, and yet she still shivered.

  “Tommy and I’ll both be with you.”

  “In an official capacity, of course,” Tommy said, making her cringe again.

  “Once we finish with Weichert, we’ll be down there.” Mitch clicked off his phone before Tommy could say anything else to make this worse for Kat.

  “It’s okay, Mitch. I know you’ll both have to keep a professional distance at the lineup.” She sounded so sad, as if she’d lost her best friends.

  In a way, she had. Granby’s lawyer, if he’d requested one, would be in the room with Kat and if he caught even an iota of personal involvement between any of them, it could jeopardize the case.

  Never had Mitch been so torn between his job and his personal life.

  Weichert came back into the room and handed over a thick file. “If you need anything else, please call.”

  Mitch noted the change in attitude, but they wouldn’t likely need anything else from this man. In fact, after Granby’s arrest they probably didn’t even need the file or the employee list, either. Still, he’d take it to be able to insure the man who’d sent this amazing woman next to him running in fear spent his life behind bars.

  Mitch urged her to her feet and escorted her to the car, passing Derrick who sat in his vehicle again today. Mitch could tell Derrick to go home, but until Mitch physically saw Granby in handcuffs, he wouldn’t relax a bit.

  Kat settled in and immediately opened Paul’s file as if she wanted to take her mind off the upcoming lineup. Mitch knew it would be better if she talked about it, but he wouldn’t force her to. Still he didn’t want her to feel alone. So he took her hand and wordlessly slipped his fingers through hers again.

  She glanced up at him, her tender expression saying he’d done the right thing by supporting her silently.

  Good. He only hoped he could figure out how to do the same thing without touching her when she relived every horrifying moment of her attack, moment by moment, as she identified the man who’d tried to kill her.

  * * *

  The minute they entered the Justice Center in downtown Portland Kat felt Mitch withdraw behind the professionalism of his shield. She got that he had to step back from her, though she didn’t like it. But she could look at it positively. With Tommy keeping his distance, too, now was the perfect time to put all of her trust in God.

  They rode the elevator to the thirteenth floor, her stomach burning with acid. When the doors slid open, she saw Tommy standing near the secured door to the department. They joined him, and Mitch congratulated Tommy on his collar of Granby with a fist bump.

  “You interrogate him yet?” Kat asked, hoping he’d say Granby confessed to killing Nancy, and she wouldn’t have to see the man until his trial.

  Tommy nodded. “He’s not saying much. Lawyered up right away. But you’ll be happy to know he doesn’t have an alibi for the night Nancy was murdered, and he has scratches on his arm consistent with your assault. Plus we confiscated a variety of drugs from his vehicle, which gives us reason to believe he had access to propofol.”

  “That’s good then.” Kat wanted to smile, but the thought of the man who’d attacked her sitting in this building—so close she could almost feel him—made her stomach churn even more.

  “What was he driving?” Mitch asked.

  “A stolen pickup,” Tommy answered. “We figure he knew we had an alert out on the van and ditched it. Hopefully a patrol officer will come across it and that’ll help solidify our case.”

  “Did you collect any other forensic evidence?” Mitch asked.

  “Granby’s DNA isn’t in the database, so we swabbed him. I’m expecting it will come back as a match to Kat’s fingernail scrapings.” Tommy put a hand on Kat’s shoulder. “Ready to do this?”

  She nodded, though her stomach was still in knots. Tommy slid his card through the card reader and pressed her forward with gentle pressure on her back. At the end of a long hallway, they went into a small room with a one-way mirror.

  “You know the drill,” Tommy said. “Since you’ve seen a photo of Granby we have the men in ski masks similar to the one you described. Each one will read a specific phrase and all you need to do is listen and let us know if you recognize his voice.” He nestled an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Mitch stood stoically next to her, and she wished he could take her hand.

  “Here we go.” Tommy pressed an intercom button on the wall. “Send them in.”

  Kat squared her shoulders and watched as six men, all about the same size and build, filed into a room.

  “Number one, read your phrase,” Tommy instructed though the intercom.

  “Nancy had no right to share this information with a private investigator,” the man said. “Your death is her fault, not mine.”

  Terror hit Kat hard, and she stepped back.

  The words were so similar to the ones said by Nancy’s killer that Kat flashed backed to that night. She felt arms of steel holding her down. Saw the anger in his eyes, the thin line of his mouth as he held the syringe. Her heart started racing, and she glanced at Tommy.

  “How did you know what to have him say?” The words came out in a whisper, telling them both how unsettled she was.

  Mitch turned his back to the lawyer and met her gaze. She could feel the tension radiating off him, but his eyes were tender. “You told me the night of the attack so it’s in our notes.”

  Her heart pounded harder, and her legs trembled so she braced her hands on the back of a chair.

  Help me, Father, she begged and took deep breaths sending out the anxiety with each exhale. She could tough this out. After days of uncertainly, it was almost over now. She wouldn’t back down.

  “Have him repeat it, Tommy,” she said and closed her eyes to listen more carefully.

  She felt Mitch move behind her. He stood close and warmth radiated from his body. He didn’t touch her, but he was telling her that he was there for her. He was supporting her. With God above and Mitch close by, she would not back down.

  “Nancy had no right to share this information with a private investigator. Your death is her fault, not mine.” The line was repeated over and over, her eyes scrunched closed listening as if her life depended on it. Tommy occasionally asked the suspect to speak clearer and louder until the last man said his line and her heart sank. She couldn’t identify any of them.

  “Well?” Tommy asked and she opened her eyes already filling with ears.

  “I wish I could say it was one of them, but I’m just not sure.” She looked up to stem the tears. “I’m so sorry, Tommy.”

  “It’s okay, Kat,” Mitch said softly, still standing behind her.

  “But I was a cop. I know how important it is to pay attention to details. I should be able to do this.”

  “Cut yourself some slack, Kat,” Tommy said. “You were fighting for your life that night. Details take second place to staying alive.”

  She heard the conviction behind his words, but the disappointment in his eyes said she’d failed. And she had. Big time. She was the only connection between this creep and Nancy’s death. Until the DNA came back. That would prove his part in all of this. At least she hoped it would because she couldn’t stomach the thought that her failure to identify Granby would allow a killer to go free.

  SIXTEEN

  Mitch walked Kat to the door of her town house. He didn’t like the idea of her staying home alone, but with Granby behind bars, she was safe. Finally, safe.

  She slipped her key into the lock, and he tried to come up with a reason not to leave. He had no logical reason to stay, but he just plain didn’t like the idea of her not needing him anymore.

  Even worse, he didn’t like the idea of her needing him in the future and failing to be there for her. This afternoon’s lineup reminded him of how easily she could be hurt, perhaps killed. He hadn’t been there for her the night a man had beaten her. Tried to kill her. The odds of that happening again were slim, but it could happen again. Especially working for the agency.