More important, why hadn't Connie responded to her letter? A cold chill crept up her spine, raising the hair on the back of her neck. Maybe Connie had responded. Maybe the letter had been intercepted. No, she had seen the postman drive up every day since she sent out the letter. No one had been to that box before her. Yet nothing had ever been placed in the box. She was letting her imagination run wild again. Len's comment was proof enough that Connie received the letter. Had she talked to Howard or Len - or both? If Connie didn't tell Allen where to find her, who did? Yancey? Did he have business with Yancey? Yet someone had told him that she was working for Sarah. Who would have known that but Connie?

The ride back was quiet, but the silence was a comfortable one, only becoming awkward when they reached the door of his house. Lisa gazed up at him in the darkness; acutely aware of the way the moonlight softened the rugged angles of his face. He was a tall dark figure in the night, as he stood looking down at her. It was too dark to see his expression, but it was obvious he was watching her. He was standing close and she was startled by a desire to be swept into his arms again. She spoke quickly, hoping that desire could be covered up by a professional front.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening. I didn't realize how much I needed to get out."

"It was nice, wasn't it?" he answered, reaching for her hand. "We'll have to do this more often." His lips brushed the top of her hand lightly.

The night air was chilly on her bare arms and she shivered involuntarily, annoyed at herself because it looked like an obvious ploy.

"Cold?" He asked softly.

"A little, why don't we go in and I'll make us some coffee?" She felt disappointed when he released her hand and dug in his pocket for the house key. He opened the door for her and they entered, quietly slipping into the kitchen. The porcelain clock on the wall proclaimed the time as ten minutes until twelve, but it didn't seem that late. She started the coffee and picked up an empty pop bottle from the counter to discard in the trash. Noticing a deck of cards on the counter, she paused. "Want to play a game?"

He glanced at the bottle in her hand and lifted an eyebrow "Spin the bottle?"




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