Kara Lennox - For Just Cause

“Theresa took quite a few movies. Does she have kids, grandkids?” He looked at the screen and grinned. “Aw, cute baby.”

“I saw some family photos at the house, so, yes, I’m sure she has children. Mary-Francis said her sister was a widow.”

A baby’s laughter issued from the camera’s tiny speaker. Billy pushed more buttons. “Now we have what looks like a Little League baseball game. And this one…an elderly lady’s birthday party and…someone who apparently just got a new car.”

“Sounds riveting. Will the Academy of Motion Pictures be calling?”

“Same baby again. This time he’s walking.” Billy smiled a really sweet, unguarded smile, and her heart swelled. He continually surprised her. Sure, she could tell herself the kiss they’d shared earlier was an isolated incident, that it would never happen again. But the desire she felt for him wasn’t going away.

Not until she figured him out.

Claudia was great at coaching her clients on relationship matters, but the fact was, she’d never had a successful romantic relationship, just a few spectacular failures—like Raymond Bass.

He’d been executed last year.

It seemed every man she met had an angle in wanting to date her, and she always figured it out much too easily. If they were interested in sex and nothing else, she always knew it, no matter what they told her or how sweet they appeared to be. They were so painfully transparent.

Then there were the ones who wanted free therapy. Pass.

Her abysmal love life was a failing on her part. She couldn’t put the blame on anyone else. Because part of her strained to learn every detail about a potential boyfriend so that she could feel safe; then she lost interest when no mystery remained.

Billy’s motives for kissing her were impossible to read. He was mysterious…exciting…dangerous…and she ought to be running as far and fast as she could in the opposite direction. Instead, she was intrigued.

“Oh, now here’s something interesting.”

“What?”

He studied the tiny screen intently for a few moments. “Claudia. I think this is a memorial service for Eduardo.”

“Let me see.”

He turned the camera partway in her direction, but as they both leaned across the table to look, neither of them could see very well. Without thinking much about it, Claudia slid out of her side of the booth and into his.

Big mistake.

“Start it over.” She struggled to make her voice sound calm, as if their contact, from her thighs all the way up to her shoulder, didn’t affect her at all, as if her heart hadn’t started beating like a drum solo and her insides hadn’t clenched up in anticipation of something that would never happen.

Apparently her efforts succeeded. Billy obliged, turning up the volume.

An elderly priest stood informally before a group of people seated in folding chairs. “This is Theresa’s house.” Claudia recognized the large sofa painting of The Last Supper. “I wonder why the service was held there?”

“Because the Torres home was a crime scene?”

“Now we can at least see what the house looked like before the break-in.”

The priest talked about Eduardo’s sterling qualities, how he gave generously to the church and sponsored a poor village in Mexico—the village where his wife’s parents still lived.

“There’s something funny about that priest,” Claudia said.

“Funny, how?”

“He keeps glancing at the fireplace. He’s definitely distracted by something over there. See how he bounces up on his toes?”

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