“Okay,” Ethan said, thankful for the interruption. “Since we’re a go on the darkroom, let’s get back to work and iron out our details.”

  Ethan watched Cole and Kat share a knowing look before returning to their seats without further discussion. Still, Ethan knew he should give their suggestion to change details some thought.

  He took his place at the head of the table. “Before we get into specifics, Jen, why don’t you share any other commitments you have for the next few days that you absolutely can’t get out of?”

  “I rescheduled everything at work except for a shoot tomorrow morning. I tried to get it reassigned to another photographer, but my boss refused.”

  “Can’t it be postponed?” Ethan asked.

  “It’s time sensitive. Bitsy Standiford—the woman featured in this article—is receiving an award Friday night for her charitable contributions, and the paper is doing a feature on her for Sunday’s edition. So the photos have to be taken this week.”

  “Why can’t another photographer do it?” Cole asked.

  “The managing editor promised Bitsy I’d do it. When she saw my photos in the paper for my show, she insisted on having me do the shoot. She’s an investor in the newspaper, so he agreed. Supposedly, she thinks my connection to Photos of Hope will make her seem even more giving.” Jennie wrinkled her nose as if the thought was distasteful to her.

  Ethan’s first reaction was to say she couldn’t go. On the other hand, if they could do a risk assessment and determine the threat was low, engaging in a normal activity could help remove some of her anxiety. “How many people know about this shoot?”

  “My boss and the reporter assigned to the story would be the only ones who need to know.”

  “Do you go directly to the location or stop in at the paper first?”

  “Directly.”

  “Can you jot down the address and give it to Cole?”

  She nodded.

  He let his gaze connect with Cole’s. “You’re the best at logistical details. I’d like you to check it out—including a security check on the photographer and editor—and if you think it’s safe, plan the transport.”

  “You got it,” Cole answered. “I’m assuming you want me to check out Michael’s darkroom first?”

  Ethan nodded. “It’s also a good idea to avoid Jennie’s usual haunts for the next few days.” He looked at her again. “And that includes your house. Are you okay with staying at Kat’s until the show is over?”

  “Yes, if Kat’s okay with it.”

  “Are you kidding?” Kat laughed. “I like having you there.”

  “Kat also raised a valid point earlier. If our suspect determines we’re providing protection it could lead him here. I’d like to hold any future meetings at your place, Kat. Since you’ve only owned the house for a month, the deed won’t be recorded yet and there’s no paper trail that will lead them to us.”

  “Fine with me,” Kat said as Cole’s phone rang the army’s theme song.

  He lifted it and looked at caller ID. “It’s Patrick.” He answered and left the room.

  They spent the next twenty minutes discussing transport details from Kat’s place to the darkroom. Ethan could easily drive Jennie every day, but he wanted to mix things up so there was no consistent pattern for attack.

  He caught Dani’s gaze. “If Jennie goes to the shoot tomorrow and if Cole thinks I need assistance for the transport, I’d like your help.”

  “You got it.” Her lips twitched in a brief smile.

  Yeah, he was right. They’d kept the sisters away from the danger too long. Time to let them spread their wings so they weren’t stifled. He only hoped he could back off and let them do the job.

  Cole returned, and Ethan didn’t like his scowl.

  “What’d you find out?”

  “Patrick couldn’t find Caldera. He hasn’t shown up to work today and seems to be AWOL.” Cole dropped onto his chair. “He did learn that Caldera’s in the U.S. illegally. He came here two years ago. Until then he was a very active member of the Sotos drug cartel as an enforcer.”

  Jennie gasped. Her expression said she knew an enforcer employed drastic measures to make sure no one double-crossed the cartel.

  “He’s also cousin to none other than our Juan Munoz,” Cole added.

  “So there is a connection between them,” Ethan said.

  “The big questions we need to ask now are,” Kat said, then paused as if this needed emphasis, “are Munoz and Caldera working together? Is Sotos the one pulling their strings? And if so, why?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ethan ignored the caustic chemical smell saturating Michael’s miniscule darkroom as he focused on Jennie. She seemed calm, but was it just a front? Since Cole had shared the news of Caldera’s involvement with the cartel, Ethan had been fighting the desire to hold her and comfort her. But with feelings swimming through his gut that had nothing to do with her safety but everything to do with her as a woman, he had no business taking her in his arms. Not when he’d never enter into another relationship with her.

  He should just go outside and stand guard, but he didn’t want to leave her alone with worried thoughts that traveled across her face like a stock-market ticker ever since they’d heard about Caldera. Even in the space lit only with a soft glow of the red safelight, he could still see her lingering concern. He wanted to tell her everything would be all right, but that was a promise he couldn’t make. Besides, she didn’t seem to want to talk.

  He’d encouraged her by asking open-ended questions, but she’d gone straight to mixing up foul-smelling chemicals then pouring them into trays and turning on an exhaust fan, thank goodness. She’d then bent over a large piece of equipment she’d called an enlarger. She slid negatives into some sort of carrier, shone a light down through the negative and played with a bunch of knobs. Now she slipped a piece of paper into another carrier and hit a switch.

  She took a step back and looked up at him. “It’s hard to do this with you watching me so closely.”

  “Sorry.” He smiled. “This is pretty interesting stuff.”

  “Honestly? Or are you still trying to figure out how I’m doing with everything that’s happened?” She’d always been able to read him.

  “You know me too well, don’t you?” he answered.

  The light went out and she picked up the paper, slid it into the first tray and set a large timer. “So you don’t think this is interesting, then?”

  “No… I mean, yeah, it’s interesting. I had no idea printing a picture involved so many steps.”

  With a gentle rocking motion, she sent waves of chemicals rushing over the paper, where the first hint of a picture appeared. “Actually, this is the second step in the process. You have to develop the film first.”

  “And that’s done in a darkroom, too?” he asked, hoping to keep her mind occupied.

  “Complete darkness. You can’t even have the safelight on for the first step.” Her voice had taken on an excitement he’d not heard in years. She picked up a small stainless-steel tank, opened it, then lifted out a reel. “With all the lights out, you open the film container and lace the film through this reel. When you’re done you seal it in the tank and then you can turn on the lights.”

  “So you can’t see what you’re doing?”

  “Right. It’s all done by feel.” She peered down at the paper, now clearly a photo of a little boy, and then, using plastic tongs, she lifted the paper out of the first tray and slid it into the second one.

  He imagined her at the Grotto in the inky darkness of a room similar to this one. The door locked by a measly privacy lock set—the easiest of locks to penetrate—that could be opened from the outside by poking something narrow into the opening. Some hulking guy with ulterior motives barging into the room and attacking her.

  Not if he could help it.

  When this was all over, he’d talk to the owner of the Grotto about safety precautions for their clients. He’d insist on having dead bolts installed on all the doors and making the door to the hallway accessible only with an electronic card or code.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

  “Nothing.”

  She arched a brow and studied him. “Looks like you’re thinking about something pretty serious.”

  Nothing he’d share. “How in the world did you get started doing this?”

  “You say that like it’s a freakish thing.”

  “Not at all.” He laughed. “It’s just that this involves lots of equipment and knowledge, so I wondered how you began, that’s all.”

  She eyed him for a few moments then returned her attention to the tray. “When I was in high school, I couldn’t afford to go to extracurricular activities. So I joined the yearbook staff and went to the events to take pictures for the yearbook.”

  “Sounds like a good way to be able to attend.”

  “Yeah… No…” She shrugged. “I mean, not really. I got to go to everything, but I still wasn’t a part of anything.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Even though I was there, I was still invisible. No one talked to me or noticed me. I was still the new kid from the wrong side of the tracks.” She shifted the picture to the next tray and moved it around in the liquid with the tongs.

  He watched her and waited for her to look up again. He’d always wondered if something in her past was the reason she’d bailed on him. She’d refused to talk about her background when they dated. But now she seemed more open, as if she was ready to have a conversation about her past, and maybe discuss their relationship, too.

  As if feeling his eyes on her, she glanced at him. “What?”

  “This is the first time you’ve talked about how you were raised.”

  She lifted her shoulder in a quick shrug. “It wasn’t relevant to any of our discussions.”

  “Even that last one. When you split.”

  She stilled her hand midair, but didn’t look at him or say a word. He’d hit on a nerve.

  “Why’d you really leave me, Jen?” he asked softly to encourage a response.

  Quiet descended on them. Like a rough blanket on a sweltering day, it felt oppressive and he needed to end it.

  He moved closer, her sweet fragrance overtaking the chemical odor. “Jen?”

  She stood with her hand frozen in the air. He eased even closer and she took a hurried breath.

  “We need to talk about this,” he said.

  “I need to focus on what I’m doing here.” She lowered a shaking hand, and he heard a breathless quality to her tone. Their closeness was affecting her, too.

  She peered at him for a long moment. He stared into the bottomless brown eyes and felt her drawing him in again. Her eyes held so much anguish it made his chest hurt.

  “Please, Jen,” he said, hoping she’d let down her defenses and talk. “I need answers.” He reached for her, intending to pull her into his arms, then remembered why he shouldn’t and let his hands fall. “And talking this out will be good for you, too. It’ll give us both some needed closure.”

  She shivered before her eyes cleared, and she stepped away, taking the photograph to a wire rack. “This isn’t a good idea, Ethan. Our past is in the past. Let’s just leave it there. We have different goals and dreams, and no matter the obvious attraction between us, we don’t need to go there.”

  He could see her struggling to put the walls back up between them, and that was the last thing he wanted. He crossed the room and turned her by the arm. “Have or had?”

  She gave him a narrow-eyed gaze. “Had, I guess. I don’t really know much about you now.” She freed her arm and turned to the counter. “I need to work.”

  He let out a long breath. Dragged in another. The room was thick with tension and it felt stifling. When he’d taken this case, he never imagined it’d be like this. He was over her. Had been for a long time. So how could he know every time he looked at her some deep-rooted insecurity would rise up and blindside him like this, making him just as desperate for answers as he’d been all those years before?

  He watched her as she repeated the same procedure with another picture. He should call Madeline. Tell her that he’d put one of his siblings on Jennie’s detail, that he couldn’t do this.

  Jennie looked over her shoulder, lingering anxiety darkening her eyes. His heart broke. Shattered into pieces. He took a step back. He had to get away from her. Just had to or he was going to get hurt again.

  But he couldn’t go. Not now and leave her care to anyone else. He didn’t want to do this, but there was no other choice. He trusted his family, but making sure Jennie stayed safe was more important than his feelings, and he wouldn’t back off while her life was in jeopardy.

  * * *

  Jennie kept her back to Ethan. With his restless shifting and sighing for the past few hours, she’d barely been able to work. Since their conversation, he’d moved from sitting on the counter behind her and swinging his legs to either pacing or leaning against the door. She wanted to ask him to leave. To go outside and wait, but if she looked at him again, looked into his eyes that had reflected her feelings, she’d be lost.

  “I realize you need to focus, but is any conversation off-limits or just our past?” His words rushed out as if he’d been ready to say this for some time.

  Maybe a conversation about some meaningless topic would lighten the tension. “We can talk.”

  “In all the confusion, I didn’t ask if there were people who might be wondering where you are and if we need to contact them so they don’t worry about you.”

  She glanced up at him. “People at work know I’m unavailable.”

  “Isn’t there someone in your personal life you might need to contact?”

  She slid a fresh piece of paper into the easel. “My friends are used to me taking off without notice. So they shouldn’t miss me for a few days.”

  “What about a boyfriend?”

  Surprise made her hand jerk, and she ruined the photo.

  “I’m not seeing anyone.”

  He pushed off the door and came closer. “Why not? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “I do mind.” Telling him about her almost fiancé, Owen, rejecting her because she couldn’t commit to her daughter would bring them right back to the parts of her past she wanted to keep hidden. She needed to put the focus on him. “How about you? Are you dating?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s personal.”

  She pivoted and searched his eyes. “See? When the tables are turned, you’re not so happy answering my questions, are you?”

  He locked gazes with her for a moment, and she made sure hers held a challenge. His battled back for a few moments, but finally he shook his head.

  “Fine,” he said. “A few years ago, a woman bailed on me a month before our wedding day.”

  The air seemed to leave the room, and it felt as if he’d plunged a knife into her back. Shocked at this visceral reaction, she took a step back and busied her hands by moving tongs on the countertop.

  What was going on here? She’d long gotten over her feelings for him, hadn’t she? If so, why did the thought of him getting married hurt so much? And why, for goodness’ sake, did she want to continue this conversation when it could only lead somewhere neither of them seemed to want to go? Because he brought it up and now she needed to know, that’s why.

  She faced him again. “What happened?”

  He shrugged as if it was unimportant, but she could see his lingering pain. She let her nails bite into her palms to keep from moving toward him and comforting him but didn’t take her eyes off him as she waited him out.

  He ran a hand around the back of his neck. “We wanted different things. Carla loved her job more than anything. She got a promotion and decided her job as a VP didn’t mix well with marriage.” He didn’t say that she’d loved her job more than she’d loved him, but Jennie could hear the hurt in his tone that said he couldn’t believe the woman he’d planned to spend his life with chose a job over him.

  The light went out behind her and Jennie dragged her gaze away before she got caught up in his anguish and did something dumb like rest a hand on his shoulder and tell him that she hated that he was hurting.

  She took a few deep breaths and slid the paper into the developer. “And you haven’t dated since then?”

  “No.” Jennie never knew one word could hold so much sadness.

  “Why not?” As much as she wanted to look at him, she kept her eyes forward.

  “You can only be abandoned so many times in life and be willing to put yourself out there again.” He moved next to her, and she looked up at him, trying to hide the sorrow, maybe guilt, for her part in hurting him.

  He peered over her head, a distant look in his eyes. “For as long as I can remember, I felt different from my friends. I didn’t know why until I finally realized that my parents—the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally—chose to give me away.” He shrugged. “I wanted anything back then but to be different. I’m okay with it now, but when someone walks out on you, it all comes back.”

  Jennie knew exactly where his sadness was coming from. Had lived it herself. Her mother dying. Her father leaving her emotionally. Her church friends and Owen rejecting her when they learned about the baby. And she was the worst one of all, abandoning her own child and then, when she was afraid to tell Ethan about it, abandoning him, as well. She couldn’t continue with this discussion.

  “I think we should move on,” she said and went back to work.