Page 72 of Four Cards Exposed

“So I guess you get to go back to your lives,” Lorraine began. A small smile played on her lips.

“Could I grab a second with Susan, Lorraine?”

“Sure. I’ll go get the cars ready.”

“One car,” James said firmly. “We’re only going to need one car.”

Lorraine disappeared, closing the door behind her.

“One car?” Susan asked. Her hands twisted in her lap. “I need to get back to Sharp’s Cove. I spoke with Natalie during the break. She’ll be worried if I’m not back tonight.”

James nodded. “I’ll drive you back.”

“But your shoulder—“

“Is fine.” He cleared his throat. He wished he were wearing his own clothes, instead of these ridiculous tracksuit bottoms. “Listen, Susan—“ he began.

Susan looked up at him, her eyes dark and luminous. He could get lost in those eyes if he wasn’t careful.

“I meant what I said last night.”

He didn’t know what he’d expected. Maybe some push-back. Some reticence. A list of concerns. He was an obsessive, controlling workaholic, and Susan was—Susan was the most incredible woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He already knew he wasn’t good enough for her.

She surprised him once again, standing up and crossing the distance between them, then going on tiptoes.

“I’d like that,” she whispered, her voice tickling his ear. Then her lips, soft and pliable, were on his, and all conscious thought fled, leaving only pleasure.

23

* * *

Susan

Chief Deputy Hope pulled her into his arms, squeezing like he wasn’t ever going to let go.

Susan pushed back weakly. “Rob? I need to breathe.”

Finally, he stepped back, but kept his large hand lightly on her forearm.

“Damn, but it’s good to have you back, Susan. We missed you.”

“I missed you, too. How’s Emma? I didn’t miss the wedding, did I?”

He laughed. “Nah, and you wouldn’t have missed it, anyway. We would have waited until you were back.”

Susan blinked rapidly to push back the tears.

Then Alma was there, pushing a large mug into her hands. It was Susan’s favorite mug, the words My Day Starts with Coffee and Ends with Coffee stenciled around the side.

“Here, dear.” Alma’s voice was kind and calm, as behooved a woman who’d spent thirty years working dispatch for the Sheriff’s Department and the Fire Department. Her eyes, behind the fashionable glasses she wore, were bright with unshed tears.

This time, a tear escaped and rolled down Susan’s cheek.

“Thank you, Alma.”

Susan looked around the station to distract herself. Everything was exactly the same. This—this was what she’d missed the whole time she was up in the city. Not the town itself, but these people. They were her family, as much as her own family was.

Three papers sat spread out on a desk, one of them local, two national. The story had made it on all three covers. Two of them even had a picture of Ernesto Mendoza being taken into custody.