Hidden Riches

don’t know for certain. Weeks, probably months.”
    “I’d like to have that film developed, if you don’t mind.” Brent smiled. “It never hurts to check.”
    “I’ll go get it.”
    “It doesn’t fit,” Jed said when she left the room. “A guy doesn’t kill a cop, then walk across the street to rape a woman and raid her photo album.”
    “We have to start somewhere. He wanted a picture, we’ll look at her pictures. Maybe she took a shot of something she shouldn’t have.”
    “Maybe.” But he couldn’t make the piece fit into the puzzle.
    “Did you get a good enough look at him for a make?”
    “Six foot, a hundred seventy. Dark hair, dark eyes, slim build. He had on a cashmere coat, gray, and a navy or black suit with a red tie. Funny a guy wearing a suit and tie for a rape.”
    “It’s a funny world.”
    “Here’s the film.” She set the container on the table. “There were a couple shots left, but I don’t think I’ll be using them.”
    “Thanks.” Brent pocketed it. “I’d like you and Jed towork with the Identi-Kit. It’s a little toy we have to help put together a composite.”
    “Sure.” The show must go on, she thought miserably. “I’ll get my coat.”
    “Not tonight.” Brent adjusted his glasses and rose. “You need some rest. You’d do a better job of it tomorrow. If you think of anything else, you call, anytime.”
    “I will. Thanks.”
    When they were alone, Dora stacked the cups and saucers. It was still too difficult to look Jed in the eye. “I haven’t gotten around to thanking you.”
    “You’re welcome.” He put his hands over hers. “Leave them. I should probably take you to the hospital. Let them examine that hard head of yours.”
    “I don’t want doctors poking at me.” She pressed her lips together to keep her voice from quavering. “I don’t want anybody poking at me. The aspirin’s taking the edge off the headache.”
    “It doesn’t do much for a concussion.”
    “Neither does anything else.” She turned her hands under his, linked fingers in a plea for understanding. “Don’t push, okay?”
    “Who’s pushing?” He slipped his hands from hers to tip her head back and examine her eyes. What he saw was simple exhaustion. “Go to bed.”
    “I’m not tired. All this coffee will probably keep me awake for . . . I nearly brought Richie back here with me tonight.” That thought churned in her stomach. “If he . . .” That was one train of thought she couldn’t afford to indulge. “It should have been safe here.”
    “It will be.” Gently he laid his hands on her shoulders and kneaded the tight muscles. “The next time I go out for cigarettes and milk, I’ll take you with me.”
    “Is that where you were?” Because she wanted to lean back against him, a little too much, she picked up the cups and carried them into the kitchen. “I didn’t see any bag.”
    “I left it in the car when I heard you scream.”
    The cups rattled when she set them down on the counter. “Good thinking. Do you always take a gun to the market?”
    “They really hose you for milk in those convenience stores.” He touched her hair when she managed a choked laugh.
    “Don’t worry, I’m not falling apart.”
    “I’m not worried.” But he left his hand on her hair, lightly. “Do you want me to call your sister? Your father or your mother?”
    “No.” Dora plugged the sink, flipped on the water. “I guess I’ll have to tell them something tomorrow, and that’ll be bad enough.”
    She wasn’t fooling with dishes out of a sense of neatness, he knew, but because she was postponing that moment of being alone again. At least that was something he could take care of.
    “Tell you what, why don’t I bunk out on the couch for tonight? I promise not to leave shaving gunk in the bathroom sink.”
    With one indulgent sigh, she shut off the tap and turned to bury her face against his chest. “Thanks.”
    He hesitated, then slipped his arms around her. “Don’t thank me yet. I might snore.”
    “I’ll risk it.” She rubbed her cheek against his. “I’d tell you that you could share the bed, but—”
    “Bad timing,” he finished.
    “Yeah. The worst.” She eased away. “I’ll get you a pillow.”

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
    S he looked good. Really good. Jed hadn’t spent much time observing sleeping women, and certainly not unless they’d shared the bed with him, but none had looked better than Dora in the morning.
    She slept sprawled