"I wasn't sure who came in."

She lifted the book to replace it and he noticed the cover.

"Were you reading that?"

Her face felt hot again. "No...Well, yes. I glanced through it." Was he angry?

He eyed her sardonically. "You're welcome to read anything in the house. It isn't necessary to cover up your interest."

She shoved the book back into its place and gave the shelf a last swipe, curbing her tongue as she dismounted the chair. She lifted the chair and ignored his offer to carry it to the kitchen for her. He was outspoken and direct, but why did it sound so much like he had caught her in a lie?

He followed her to the kitchen. "Are you angry with me?"

She scooted the chair under the table and tossed the rag in the hamper. "Does it matter? I'm here to do a job."

He was quiet long enough to rouse her interest, and she glanced up to determine the cause of his silence. He was lounging against the kitchen doorway, staring down into his coffee cup. Finally he glanced up and met her gaze.

"It matters."

She turned and rested her hands on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

"Look, Mr. Cade."

"Russ," he interrupted irritably.

She lifted her palms in resignation. "All right, Russ. All you have to do is lay down the ground rules. If you don't want to talk about your mother, we won't. But if I'm supposed to avoid the subject, don't act like I'm in the middle of some deceitful act when I try."

He was clearly surprised. "What makes you think the topic of my mother is..." He stopped mid-sentence and shrugged in resignation. He strode across the room and poured his coffee in the sink. "All right. It's a subject I'd rather not discuss. Not because she did anything wrong, though. I hold myself responsible for her death."

The statement was an open invitation but she was several conversations wiser now, and waited for him to volunteer the rest of the story. He obviously considered the subject closed and remained silent. So on to something else.

"The book I was holding. Did your mother write it?"

He nodded. "That and a couple dozen others. She had a short career as a writer." He rinsed his cup and turned from the sink. As he strode across the room she chanced a last remark.

"I'll try not to be so inquisitive."

He stopped and turned, frowning down at her.

"There's no harm in a healthy curiosity. It's flapping jaws that get people into trouble."

She stared at him. "Do you think my jaws flap too much?"




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