Silent Fall

wanted to go on kissing him for a long time, but the shrill clatter of the cappuccino machine reminded her where she was.
    Pulling away, she said, "Thanks," with a breathless smile.
    His eyes darkened as his hands gripped her waist. "Why are you thanking me?"
    "For letting me do that on my own, when you really wanted to be the one to question Joanna. I finally feel like I’m helping you." She paused. "It’s probably difficult for you to believe, but I used to fight for myself when I was a kid. I was pretty scrappy. I don’t know what happened to me. I guess I got tired. I lost my way. I started to let the nightmares rule my life. I gave up. But today, in a small way, I took a step toward getting my life back. Because you let me."
    "Because you demanded that I let you," he corrected. "I didn’t give you anything."
    "You’re just being nice now."
    "By admitting I’m not a generous man?" he asked with a quirk of his brow.
    She smiled. "By letting me take all the credit."
    "Well, hopefully these clues you found will allow us both to get our lives back."

Chapter Ten

    Several hours later Dylan’s optimism began to fade. The telephone number Catherine had taken from Erica’s apartment had rung through to a voice mail, a standard answering-service message, not a personal one. Rather than leave a message, he’d tried to match a name to the number using the Internet, but hadn’t had any luck. The Hawaiian resort had no reservation for Erica, so that was a dead end, too.
    While Dylan was on the computer, Catherine had gone through Erica’s checkbook, jotting down anything that looked intriguing or suspicious. After skimming the entries Dylan couldn’t find any clues. The bottom line was that they were no closer to finding Erica.
    He sat back in the chair behind his grandmother’s desk and stretched his arms high over his head, letting out a weary sigh. Catherine settled back in the chair across from him and yawned, reminding him that they’d both had a hellishly long day.
    "You should go to bed," he told her, the innocent suggestion sending an unexpected jolt through his system as his mind quickly flashed forward to Catherine in bed, her beautiful hair spread across the pillow. No matter how many times he tried to distract himself, the chemistry between them continued to sizzle. Well, it would have to slow-cook for a while. He needed to stay focused on finding Erica, and it was already clear to him that one kiss from Catherine would take his head right out of the game.
    "I think I will turn in," Catherine said, a brisk note in her voice as she stood up, carefully avoiding his gaze. "I’ll use the guest bedroom upstairs. You can have your grandmother’s room."
    "You don’t want to share?" he asked provocatively, knowing he was playing with fire, but unable to resist.
    "That would be a bad idea."
    "Would it?"
    His question hung between them for far too long. He hadn’t intended it to be serious... or maybe he had.
    "Yes," she said finally.
    He felt a wave of disappointment, which he quickly masked with a sharp clearing of his throat. "I’ll be in here. The couch is fine for me." The last thing he wanted to do was sleep in his grandmother’s room, where the damn photo album lay. Nor did he want to be close enough to Catherine to change his mind about staying away from her. A good floor between them couldn’t hurt.
    "If you hear any screaming in the middle of the night, don’t get too alarmed," Catherine said.
    "I thought you just heard screams. I didn’t realize you did the yelling."
    "It works both ways; at least, that’s what my last boyfriend said. Apparently I scared the crap out of him a few times. He started leaving right after we made love, so he wouldn’t have to actually sleep with me."
    "Sounds like a wimp to me."
    Catherine shrugged. "He was a professor of art at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo. He thought I was brilliant in the beginning. He found my gruesome pictures fascinating, but in the end I was just a little too crazy for him."
    "His loss."
    "Yeah, sure, and don’t tell me you’ve never jumped out of a woman’s bed after sex. I bet you do it all the time."
    "I’ll never tell," he said with a smile.
    She smiled back at him. "Fine. Keep your secrets while you can. How long are you going to stay up?"
    "A little longer. I keep hoping I’ll have a breakthrough. I hate to waste a minute sleeping when