Page 95 of Hard Evidence
“I’m here for you, I promise.”
Justin only hoped it was a promise he didn’t have to break.
Jessie had gone quiet, and that worried Justin more than anything.He’d learned to handle Eliza’s panic attacks, and Melanie’s yelling, and Rebecca’s slamming doors, but how was he supposed to deal with silence?
The water in the oversized tub was cooling, the bubbles long gone, and Jessie was sitting there with her eyes closed, an empty wine glass beside her.Justin wasn’t trying to be a voyeur, but she’d been knocking back Syrah as if it were soda, and he didn’t want her to drown.And he also didn’t want to waste a single moment with her.So he watched her, and while he watched, he thought about the morning’s shitshow.The warrant for the house search was sketchy, his lawyer said, and most judges wouldn’t have signed off on it.But one asshole had, so Justin had been forced to watch as his space was violated.He wouldn’t have minded if it got them closer to finding Amie.But what had rummaging through his kitchen cupboards achieved?
Something bugged him, a stray thought, and he struggled to reach for it.
At least they’d searched this place and not his old home.That would have felt so much more personal.Here, he was still living with a mix of emergency purchases and furnishings chosen by Norquist’s two-person design team.He was pissed they’d taken his truck, though.He’d bought that pickup when he still lived in Blackstone House, and although he’d toyed with the idea of replacing it over the years, the old adage was true—if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.The engine still ran smoothly, Jake took care of any rust spots, and the bed was big enough to fit lumber in, not like modern trucks that were designed for comfort rather than work.
“The water’s cold,” Jessie mumbled.
“You want me to refresh it?”
“I need to dry my hair.”
“You sit; I’ll dry it.”
“Uh…”
“Don’t look so nervous.My mom ran a hair salon—I do a great blowout.”
Once, Justin thought that maybe he’d be a stylist.He’d been shampooing hair since he was a kid—the older clientele thought it was cute, and they tipped well—and his mom had taught him how to cut and colour.A woman’s happiest when she looks her best, Emily Norquist always used to say.Even Melanie had no complaints about his blow-drying skills.
Jessie still didn’t look convinced, but once Justin had bundled her into his bathrobe, lifted her onto a chair, and given her a scalp massage, she relaxed and turned sleepy.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but your skills are wasted building houses,” she said.
He chuckled softly.“My hands are for your pleasure only.”
“Do you take requests?”
“What were you thinking?”
“Well, I always wanted bangs…” She broke into giggles.“Uh, I don’t know how to do all that dirty talk.”
Justin leaned in close, close enough that his lips brushed her ear.“You want me to fuck you with my fingers?”
Another giggle.“And other things?”
Tempting.So fucking tempting.But that giggle… “Exactly how much did you drink?”
“Not enough?”
Fuck.
“Too much.”He wanted to see her fall apart beneath him, but he didn’t want her to regret it in the morning.“Let’s get you some coffee.”
“Ohhhh, boo.”
She had beautiful hair, like silk between his fingers.He dried it into loose curls and carried her to the kitchen, then set the coffee machine to brew a strong Americano.They needed to eat as well.Marion had shown up in the middle of the police search with four bags of groceries, a kind gesture but one fuelled by nosiness, Justin suspected.And Marion shopped with coupons and an eye for discounts rather than using a list, so now they had a package of frozen burritos, four pounds of potatoes, canned pumpkin puree, a dozen undersized eggplants with clearance stickers, family-size grape jelly, a gallon of unsweetened almond milk, hot dog buns—but no hot dogs—pickled okra in a jar, microwave popcorn, powdered ranch dressing mix, and a dented can of crushed tomatoes.Oh, and two pounds of ground beef, manager’s special, expiring tomorrow.At least Marion had given the detectives a lecture on the perils of harassing innocent citizens.
“Burritos for dinner?”he asked Jessie as he set the coffee in front of her.“That’s hot.”
“Do the burritos come with Tylenol?”
“Yup.”
