Jasmine understood immediately, of course. Wynne needed to know that Jasmine wasn’t in trouble. That she hadn’t fallen under the spell of power and supposed protection once again. Jasmine’s counselor had pointed out to her that, in truth, she never did fall. She always got out before she lost herself.

  She was a strong, capable woman.

  One who could struggle when it came to falling in love.

  “Heidi’s accused Josh of abuse,” she said softly, moving more closely to the state representative who always seemed to have people around her these days. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “What? Heidi’s back at it again?” Wynne glanced toward Greg a second time. He’d chosen not to wander off on his way, as Jasmine had half hoped he would, but rather, stood there, watching the two of them. And she remembered that he’d been impressed that she knew Wynne Anderson.

  “Where are my manners?” she exclaimed with a last glance at Wynne, needing the other woman to keep her counsel until they could talk alone. “Greg, this is Representative Wynne Anderson. Wynne, Detective Greg Johnson. He’s working on my brother’s case. We’re just coming from a preliminary hearing.”

  Glancing around, Wynne asked, “Where’s Josh?” And then held out her hand to Greg. “Nice to meet you,” she added, almost as though it wasn’t an afterthought. Jasmine knew her better than that, though. Wynne had reservations about Greg.

  Old jealousy rearing its head? Or valid concerns of a close friend?

  “Josh is still upstairs with his lawyer,” she said, trying to walk the three of them toward the door where she could make her escape before her too-complicated world exploded into painful shards.

  Wynne stopped after just a couple of steps. “I actually have to get upstairs myself,” she said. “I’m late for a meeting. But...you going to be home tonight?” The look she gave Jasmine was adamant, in an almost sisterly way.

  “Yes.” Please go. Let me go. Make him go. Let’s all be gone...

  “I’ll call you,” Wynne said and with a quick “Nice to meet you” aimed in Greg’s direction, she sped toward an opening elevator door.

  Turning her gaze back to Greg, Jasmine found him watching her. “You know her well.”

  “I told you I did.”

  “You’re close.”

  “We used to be.” She started walking. Needing to get Bella and keep the child close until she figured out the best way to win the current war they were facing.

  There was no doubt they’d win. They were survivors.

  “We don’t talk that much anymore,” she continued, since talking about Wynne seemed to be getting her closer to the door, the parking lot across the street, her car. “She’s busy, I’m busy...” Wynne hadn’t known about the charges against Josh.

  “Does she know what Desmond did to you? To keep you from meeting up with her?”

  “No.”

  He kept looking at her. She didn’t meet his gaze. On emotional overload already, she was in no state to get into the Wynne thing. Had no idea where he’d stand on the sexuality spectrum and didn’t have the energy to find out.

  Balmy air and a glorious blaze of sunshine hit them as they walked past a security guard and made it through the door.

  “Once she got heavier into politics, you didn’t have as much in common?” he asked, hands in his pockets. They walked in tandem toward the streetlight that would hopefully change by the time they got there and let her just head straight across the street without another delay.

  She shrugged at his question. “We just got busier with other things,” she said and then cringed inside. What things was she busier with that she hadn’t already been busy with during the time that she and Wynne Anderson were close? She’d already told him she was teaching back then. And other than the recent advent of Bella into her daily routine, what else did she do?

  Truth was, she still respected and appreciated Wynne’s opinion on any matter she brought up to her. The woman was incredibly smart. Analytical. And generally spot-on when it came to powers of observation, as well.

  She’d just been way too possessive for Jasmine. Wanting them to be so far into each other’s lives they never went anywhere alone. Not personally, at least. And then, once, Wynne had screamed horrible, demeaning things at her when she’d failed to comply and didn’t seem to want the same things for them. She’d later come to understand that Wynne had been dealing with her own tensions, her political aspirations and sexual orientation at war with each other, as well as her own insecurities about being a lesbian. The fact that Jasmine was bisexual made it more difficult for her to trust that Jasmine wanted her and only her. It was Jasmine’s belief that Wynne had shocked herself as much as Jasmine when she’d lost control that last night. She’d accepted the break in their relationship without a fight. Had asked only that Jasmine not say anything about her outburst and had taken an extended vacation, “caring for her ill mother across the country.” In reality, she’d put herself in private anger counseling, just in case, in another state.

  But Jasmine just wasn’t up to telling any of that to Greg Johnson as they walked across the street. Or admitting out loud that Wynne’s wife seemed to feel a bit threatened by Jasmine.

  She didn’t want to think about any of it.

  “So, you’ll talk to Josh tonight?” Greg asked as she reached her car.

  She’d said she would. He knew that she talked to him every night for Bella’s good-night story. And he’d know that after their day in court, of course they had to talk about his case. “Yes.” She pushed the button on the door handle that unlocked her car electronically in partnership with the fob in her purse.

  He turned away, tapped the hood of the car as though a form of goodbye, and then turned back. “Jasmine?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is Wynne the second one?” She knew what he was asking. The ex-lover that she still talked to.

  With one foot in the car, she hesitated. Was cornered. Him there, asking for truth. Her not wanting him to have it. But needing him to trust her so that he’d believe her about Josh...

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 12

  Greg waited for Jasmine’s call. He knew Bella went to bed fairly early. He didn’t actually start watching the clock until nine. By ten he was actively staring at his phone. Checking to see if he’d missed a call.

  Forcing himself to focus on things other than Jasmine Taylor. Fighting a mind that wanted to give him a continuous thread, running over and over, including every picture his memory had stored of her. From the moment that she’d opened her door to him almost two weeks before until she’d told him that Wynne Anderson had been her lover and then ducked into her car and drove off without looking back.

  She hadn’t even given him a chance to react, to show her that he saw her exactly the same, whether she’d had a female lover or not. She was loyal and kind, steadfast in her devotion to her loved ones. Her sexuality was a part of her. It didn’t define her.

  And she hadn’t trusted him to get that.

  At 10:20 he had a text.

  Talked to Josh as requested. Will be available to speak with you tomorrow after class.

  She wanted to talk in person, then? His body jolted. No reason. Just a jolt. He started typing immediately. Phone is fine.

  He wanted to hear what she was going to tell him now. Didn’t want to wait overnight. He knew that Heidi had been living with Josh. There was security camera coverage of her car in his driveway all night. Provided willingly without warrant by Josh’s next-door neighbor. What Greg needed to know was whether Josh was lying to Jasmine or Jasmine was lying to Greg.

  Why he needed to know he didn’t question at the moment. He was working a case. And if that particular piece of information didn’t directly affect the case, well, then, that would be something he’d figure out some other time.

  Okay, good, I’ll wait to pick up Bella from daycare until after you call

  What? No...wait.

  What about now

  He hit Send. Waited. A minute. Ten.

  Talking now I mean

  More waiting.

  Had she gone to bed? Put her phone on charge and left the room? Gone out to sit on that private deck and let breeze from the waves caress her skin after a long, hard day?

  Dropping his phone on his nightstand, Greg decided waiting to speak was a good idea and went in to take a cold shower.

  * * *

  Jasmine didn’t sleep well that night. She spent a lot of the time in a rocker lounger in Bella’s room wrapped in a fleece blanket, dozing on and off. Being close to the baby girl she’d defend with her life was her only priority during those dark hours.

  Josh was scared to death. He’d already resigned from the board of Play for the Win. The idea that scandal might make parents and guardians leery of letting kids participate in activities or be associated with the organization disturbed him. But even then, he knew that he could always start again, somewhere else, with the same idea. It wasn’t like the charges against him, if they stuck, would get him jail time. Not likely. Not on a first offense.

  What was sending her younger brother into panic mode was the idea of losing Bella. He just couldn’t fathom life without her. But more than that, the idea that his precious baby might become a ward of the state...

  Jasmine had promised him, from the depth of her soul, that she wasn’t going to let that happen.

  Which was why protecting Bella was her first priority the next afternoon when she sat, cell in hand, waiting for it to ring. Bella needed to be at home with her father.

  Not with her aunt. Not being questioned by child psychologists who would use her answers to try to convict her father of a crime he didn’t commit.

  Greg Johnson was the surest way to make that happen—and maybe the biggest stumbling block to it happening as well. He was coming to her for answers.

  Somehow she had to capitalize on that to secure Bella and Josh’s future.

  The thought made her slightly sick. She didn’t use people.

  But what if he was using her?

  The thought had occurred to her every time she’d jolted awake the night before. She’d had a brief conversation with Wynne before Andrea got home and Wynne had to go. Wynne had warned her not to fall into her old pattern. Not to trust until trust was earned...

  Her phone rang.

  “I have something to show you,” Greg said in response to her polite “hello.” “I’m almost to The Lemonade Stand. Can you meet me outside and take a little drive with me?”

  She already had her bag packed up and on her shoulder, in preparation for collecting Bella as soon as the call was through. “I’ll stop at the daycare and meet you outside,” she said before second-guessing herself. He was the key to her family’s future. Whether he was trustworthy or not.

  Giving Maddie the fruit snack pouch she’d packed for Bella and letting her know that she’d be back as soon as she could, Jasmine stopped at Lila’s office to let the director know where she was going.

  She wasn’t getting in the man’s car without letting someone know. Detective or not.

  Greg was waiting for her in the dark blue SUV she’d seen in her driveway both times he’d been over. When she saw his jeans and flannel shirt, she wondered if she should have asked where they were going. Her leggings and long-sleeved, midthigh-length sweater had been fine for the mid-September Santa Raquel morning, but the wedges she had on weren’t going to make it if he had anything athletic in mind, like a walk...

  He didn’t get out and open her door. She opened it herself. Climbed in. “Where are we going?”

  The car was warm. Smelled of him. A wave of sweet goodness washed over her. She basked in it for a second. Then she buckled her seat belt.

  “I have something to show you,” he said. “It’s not far.”

  She liked the mystery. And heard Wynne telling her not to fall...

  She liked not having to deal with Josh and Bella and losing her family for a second. They’d have their talk. She had no doubt about that. They both were determined to get what they wanted and needed. His want. Her need.

  But if he was open to being friendly with each other, or doing something nice, in the midst of taking care of business, if he was experiencing any of the same personal pull that she’d been fighting the past two weeks, then...she was game. To a point.

  He had classic rock playing. Not booming. Just playing. She looked around. The car was clean. No bits of shoe grit on the floor mats. No spare clothes or wadded receipts anywhere to be seen. The console’s two cup holders were empty. No pencils or other paraphernalia collecting there.

  The dash system was touch screen.

  She loved hers.

  He turned and turned again. Seeming not to notice that she was sitting there. And still, she felt comfortable. Glad for the odd moment to spend with him without having to be on guard.

  Curious.

  Maybe they were going to get a coffee or something, or sit by the ocean in some scenic layover he’d noticed on his way in from Santa Barbara.

  If that’s where he lived.

  It occurred to her she had no idea.

  “You work in Santa Barbara,” she said. “Do you live there, as well?”

  “I have a place just outside town.” He was watching the road. And she felt her first fissure of tension.

  He made another turn. Slowed. They were nearing a park by a large cliff that looked out over the ocean. She knew the place. Had been there once for a picnic with Josh and Bella. And knew that though there was a cliff face, the other side wasn’t a straight drop to the water. It was a wooded hillside that was angled enough to get down with relative safety.

  Not in wedges, probably, and there was no reason for them to—

  Greg slowed the vehicle more, and she thought he was going to turn in. Getting outside, talking in the park, was maybe a good idea...

  He didn’t stop, though. Just slowly drove past. She looked at the park, wondering what on earth he was doing. Looking for. She was done playing his game.

  “What’s going...” The word on never made it off her tongue. A vehicle was parked in the last spot, behind a dumpster. She recognized the Play for the Win logo on the door. And then saw the couple sitting across from each other at a picnic table made out of stone. They were in earnest conversation.

  And she knew what they were talking about.

  * * *

  “I’m part of the High-Risk Team’s crew doing extra drive-bys at Heidi’s place.” Greg started with the spiel he’d rehearsed as soon as they were past the park. He hadn’t been sure she’d just ride with him without an explanation, but he’d needed her to see for herself.

  No explanation on that one forthcoming. He could have just told her what he’d seen. If she were any other possible witness he suspected of hiding information, he’d have just told her, as part of a shock interrogation attempt to get information from her.

  She’d know about the drive-bys from being familiar with the High-Risk Team. Though she might not have known that they’d taken Heidi’s case.

  “I saw your brother parked, his car running, far enough down the street to not be seen with her, but, of course, I couldn’t ignore his presence. Before I could park and approach him, ask him what he was doing there, I see Heidi coming down the street in her car, toward him. He pulled out in front of her. She followed him. So I followed them.”

  Not one to fall prey to tension, so much as to be prepared for others’ possible over-the-top reactions to it, Greg pulled over at another, much smaller, cliff-side layby and waited. Would she start to cry? Turn on him—the messenger—with anger?

  He wanted to reach out to her. Pull her to him. Let her know she wasn’t alone and... What the hell? Bothered by his reaction, he pictured Josh and Heidi back at the park, sitting across from each other. Wishing Heidi hadn’t made that particular choice. Just as William had been adamantly against Heidi not getting a permanent restraining order.

  Without her cooperation, there hadn’t been enough evidence for the judge to order one for her own protection. Josh Taylor had physically harmed his wife. Once that they could prove. That made a bad day. A man who perhaps grabbed her arm too hard in the heat of the moment. Still punishable. Worthy of record. Not yet an ongoing threat. That they knew of.

  That Heidi was ready to say.

  Something that, unfortunately, wasn’t all that unusual in domestic violence cases.

  Until Josh hurt Heidi again, all the court could do was handle the one charge.

  And chances were, based on statistics, and on the extents of Josh’s subterfuge, he would hurt his wife again.

  And someday, maybe even his daughter, too.

  “Josh wants to give me permanent custody of Bella before his rights are possibly severed.” Jasmine’s voice cut the car’s silence, slicing through him. She was staring out the window toward the horizon beyond the cliff’s edge—the ocean they couldn’t see from their vantage point. She hadn’t looked his way since she’d buckled her seat belt.

  And suddenly the confines of his vehicle, the scent of her, was...uncomfortable to him. “You want to get out and walk?” he asked.

  She shrugged, unbuckled, let herself out. And leaned back against the front end of his car, facing the ocean. Not the walking—the expulsion of physical energy—he’d envisioned. But he leaned with her. Next to her.

  Close enough to touch her if the need arose. A ludicrous thought. Left over from Liv days—without the sense of suffocation he’d felt back then. Must mean he was finally getting rid of some of the guilt his ex had saddled him with.

  “So he admitted to you that he’s guilty?” he asked softly. Wishing the situation had turned out differently even though he’d known all along how it was going to go. He’d seen the way Josh Taylor’s glance had darted around the room when he’d asked the man about the morning that Heidi had been hurt—the varying versions of the story.