The Departed

this house. All but given it a spirit, she realized. A soul, even though there was no life attached to it.
    An angry, restless, cold one.
    Hearing footsteps, she looked up. By the time Joshua came back in, carrying a tray loaded with mugs, she had managed to hide any signs of unease, but damn it—she wanted out of here.
    “Good thing Jacqueline likes to entertain,” Joshua said, smiling as he set the tray down. “Otherwise, I’d be juggling three mugs of coffee and probably burning myself. Typical guy.”
    “Are you?” She made herself smile. “What’s a typical guy, anyway? I mean, you’re a mayor, right? Most guys aren’t mayors.”
    “It’s just a job.” He gave her a charming smile and shrugged. “And I assure you, I’m very typical. Unlike Taylor here. A small-town boy makes good and all. Look at you, Taylor. FBI. Although I guess I can see why.”
    He looked down, focusing on the coffee. “Is it…well, does it help?”
    Dez reached over and covered Taylor’s hand with hers. She opened her mouth to answer for him, but Taylor turned his hand around, squeezed her fingers lightly.
    “Help?” he echoed. “No. Nothing helps. But if it stops other kids from losing their sisters…” His voice trailed off and he shrugged.
    “I’d think that would help, though.” Joshua looked up, his darker gaze locking with Taylor’s lighter one. “Knowing you do something to keep some other kid from going through what you went through.”
    “That’s making me a more altruistic person than I ever have been.” Taylor shook his head. “Nothing makes the pain stop. It fades; you learn to live with it. And yes, sometimes I can sleep easier knowing something I did will keep one more predator off the streets. But nothing really helps .”
    “Maybe nothing is supposed to.” Dez squeezed his hand. “It’s still unfinished. For you. Not knowing anything—that leaves the wound raw and unhealed. You’ll start to heal once you know.”
    I’ll give you that, I swear . She lifted his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to it, then looked over at the other man. “So…you two were friends in school?”
    Joshua shrugged. “Not really.” He shot Taylor a quick glance. “The guy sort of got lost in his own world after…”
    “I know about Anna,” Dez said softly.
    He nodded. “Not surprising, considering everything I’ve heard about you two. Although…” Abruptly, he closed his mouth and shook his head.
    “Although what?” Taylor’s voice was cool, his eyes narrowed slightly.
    Joshua looked like he was going to brush the question aside.
    Taylor didn’t get brushed aside; Dez could have told the man that. But apparently Joshua Moore had already figured that out.
    “Well, it’s just that I’m sort of puzzled at the talk…and now I know for a fact it’s not talk.” He gave them a halfhearted smile. “I wouldn’t think such relationships would be allowed, with your jobs and all.”
    Dez could feel the slow crawl of heat up her cheeks. Ducking her head, she reached out and grabbed a cup of coffee. Let him field this one, she figured. He was the one who insisted she sign the damn contract. He was also the one who’d kissed her. And the one who’d slept in her bed. And—
    Chicken .
    She mentally groaned and tried to figure out just what she should say, although she couldn’t, for the life of her, find the words to even begin.
    Taylor’s hand curved around her neck, his thumb stroking her skin lightly. Just that light touch relaxed her. Eased her.
    “Joshua, it’s not really any of your damn business,” Taylor said, his voice easy and mild, although she could hear the edge of warning there. “But Dez works with me on a contract basis. She’s not a full-time employee with the bureau. Different rules apply.”
    “The FBI takes freelance work?” Joshua lifted his eyebrows, glancing at Dez. “Just what sort of freelance stuff can one do for the FBI?”
    She smiled at him and sipped her coffee. Over the rim of the mug, she studied him. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
    He blinked and then did one of those laughs where he threw his head back, the sound of it ringing through the house. Considering how depressed, how angry the house itself seemed to be, the laugh felt like a mockery more than anything else, but Dez simply continued to smile at him.
    “I guess I asked for that.” He sighed and shook his head. “And you’re right, it’s none of my business. So…why