Page 65 of No Offense

“I’m talking about empathy.”

If she’d struck him, he could not have been more surprised. “You think I lackempathy?”

“I don’t know how much empathy you can have when you refer to a woman who’s been through what Tabitha has as bananas.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised, he knew. She’d already called him amoral and unconscionable. Why not add lacking in empathy to the list?

But he still stood there feeling as if he’d been gut-punched, while the cat slowly began to lick its other paw.Don’t look at me, buddy,the cat seemed to be saying. I don’t know what’s going on here, either.

“I think if you’d actually had a conversation with her,” John said, desperately trying to salvage the situation, “you’dagree with me that Larry Beckwith has brainwashed Tabitha Brighton to the point that she is bananas.”

It didn’t work. Molly had gone back into her room to fetch his gun belt. “I don’t think so,” she said, when she returned.

He knew he should apologize, but... why? He hadn’t done anything wrong! At least, not technically. He was the sheriff. It was his case!

“You can’t have it both ways, Molly,” he insisted. “You can’t demand that I publish my daughter’s photo in the paper and then also tell me not to contact Tabitha’s parents. I was right to call her parents, because she needs them. She does, desperately. And when you see that I’m right, you’ll... well, you’ll be the one bringingmepie.Bananacream pie.”

He smiled, proud of himself for the witticism. A little levity might help the situation. It had always helped with Katie, and even Marguerite, when they got emotional.

But he soon saw that it had definitely not helped now. He knew this the minute his gun belt came sailing at him.

Fortunately, he caught it before it hit the wooden floor. She’d practically thrown it at him, which wasn’t good. It was never a good thing to throw firearms, even when they were holstered, with the safety on.

“Not going to happen,” Molly said. She didn’t sound tearful now. She only sounded angry. “I’m going to bed. I think you should, too. Good night.”

“Good night,” he said, and watched as she ducked intoher room, slamming the door behind her, leaving him and the cat outside in the suddenly still, all-consuming darkness.

The cat, unperturbed, yawned and sauntered toward him. John took a quick step backward, knowing what the cat intended to do—rub up against him and once again get its orange fur all over his uniform trousers.

“No,” he said. “No way, cat.”

He hurried down the steps to the hotel’s courtyard, fastening his belt as he went. The cat sat at the top of the stairs and watched him go with wide, unblinking eyes. John couldn’t help but think that the cat was judging him, much in the way he was judging himself. The evening that had started out as one of the best he’d had in as long as he could remember had ended in disaster.

But how? He couldn’t understand it. What had he done? Violated HIPAA by calling a victim’s parents?

What was so wrong with that? When it was during the course of an investigation, that was hisjob.

And yes, maybe he had mentioned that Tabitha was a little bit off her rocker. But he wasn’t going to lie about the facts in a case. Facts were facts. That didn’t mean he was lacking in empathy. He had plenty of empathy!

Just not for nitwits who went around breaking the law, putting the lives and property of innocent citizens at risk.

If Molly Montgomery couldn’t see this, then maybe she was right, and they couldn’t connect on a basic level.

Except...

Except.

Everything felt so right when they were together. So right and so good and so true.

Only now that they were fighting, everything felt terrible.

What was he going to do?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Molly

Molly couldn’t sleep at all that night.