She didn't. She lied.

The information in the file should have reassured her. Everything appeared to be in order. At 10:30 p.m. on the night of June 18th, 1988, Pat Greene, one of Buddy's deputies, called in, requesting assistance. Making rounds, he had seen a couple of young men fleeing Sallie Waguespack's home. He'd investigated and found the woman murdered.

From the deputy's description of them, Buddy had suspected the Pruitt boys. Donny and Dylan, who had been in trouble since they were old enough to steal their first candy bar, had been brought in on suspicion of dealing just the week before. The evidence hadn't supported charges, but it had only been a matter of time.

When Buddy and Pat had found the two young men, Donny and Dylan were high. When confronted, the boys had initiated a shoot-out and were killed. After the fact, the murder weapon was found in the drainage ditch behind their trailer, Donny's prints on it.

The CSPD had launched a full investigation, discovering that Donny and Dylan had been frequenting the bar where Sallie was a cocktail waitress. Drugs had been found in Sallie's house and the Pruitt boys' apartment.

It had been determined that the boys had been dealing; Sallie Waguespack had been buying. A drug deal gone bad, they'd figured. The woman had owed them money or threatened them with the cops. One witness had claimed the three had been sleeping together, further complicating the scenario. Jealousy may have been a motive. Certainly, from the way she had been killed-hacked at with a kitchen knife-it had been a crime of passion.

Avery stopped at Buddy's office door and looked back at him. "Did you ever doubt Donny and Dylan Pruitt's guilt?" she asked. "Even for a moment?"

"Never." He ran a hand over his face, looking every one of his sixty-six years. "The murder weapon was found behind their trailer, Donny's prints on it. Sallie Waguespack's blood was found on the bottom of Dylan's shoe. Drugs were involved. We had Pat Greene, who placed them at the scene. Physical and circumstantial evidence. Can't get a much cleaner case than that."

He was right about that. She knew enough about police work to understand the process, from arrest to prosecution.

She started through the door, then stopped and turned back once more. "I didn't see an autopsy report."

His face puckered with confusion. "It should be there."

"It wasn't."

He shuffled through the folder, then returned his gaze to hers. "It's misfiled. I'll look around, give you a

call when I locate it."

"Thanks, Buddy." She forced a smile. "Enjoy the rest of your day off."

Avery left the CSPD and minutes later found herself at Hunter's door. Without pausing to question her

own motivation, she rapped on the frame.

Sarah began to bark, the puppies to yip. Hunter appeared at the door. He looked tired. Disheveled.

Irritated at having been disturbed.

"You were working," she said. "I'm sorry."

"What do you want, Avery?"

She hesitated, put off by his surliness. "May I come in?"

He pushed opened the screen, moved aside. She stepped into the kitchen-and was immediately

surrounded by squirming puppies. Sarah stood by her master's side, eyes pinned on Avery.

"They're getting big," Avery murmured. She squatted and the puppies charged her, licking her hands,

butting each other out of the way. "They're so cute."

"If there's a point to your visit I'd appreciate your getting to it."

Her cheeks heated. She straightened. Met his eyes. "Did you hear what happened?"

"You mean Trudy Pruitt's murder?"

"Yes. And that I was there."

"I heard." His mouth thinned. "Even those of us who reside outside the chosen circle are part of the

gossip chain."

"Never mind. You're such an asshole." She swung around to go. "I'm sorry I came here."

He caught her arm. "Why did you, Avery? Why do you keep coming around?"

"Let go of me."

He tightened his grip. "You came for something. What do you want from me?"

She didn't know, dammit. She tilted up her chin, furious. At herself. At him. "I don't want anything from

you, Hunter. Maybe I'm here because unlike everyone else, I'm not willing to give up on you. Maybe I still see something in you that everyone else has forgotten."

"Bullshit."

"Believe what you want." She yanked her arm free, took a step toward the door.

He blocked her path. "I'd pegged you for being more honest than this, Avery. You want something from me. Spit it out."

"Stop it, Hunter. Let me go."

He moved closer, crowding her. "Why not run to Matt? Isn't he your boyfriend?"

He put a nasty emphasis on the last. She wanted to slap him. "Shut up."

He took another step forward; she back. She met the wall. "What would you give to have your father

back, Avery?"

His question took her by surprise. Disarmed, she met his eyes. "Anything. I'd give anything."

"What do you want, Avery?" he asked again. He cupped her face in his palms. "Do you want me to tell

you he loved you? Do you want me to tell you it's not your fault? Absolve you of guilt? Is that why

you're-"

"Yes!" she cried. "I want to wake up to discover this has all been a nightmare. I want to have taken my father's call that last day...I want to stop hating...myself for...I want-"

The words stuck in her throat; she brought her hands to his chest. Curled her trembling fingers into his

soft T-shirt. "I want what I can't have. I want my father back."

For long seconds, he gazed at her, expression dark with some strong emotion. Finally, he swore and dragged in a shaky breath. "He loved you, Avery. More than anything. Every time we were together, he talked about you. How proud he was of you. Proud that you'd had the guts to follow your dreams. That you'd done so well. He took pride in your courage. Your strength of will."

A cry slipped past her lips. One of relief. Of an immeasurably sweet release from pain. Tears flooded her

eyes.

"His suicide, it wasn't about you, Avery," he went on. "He was at peace with where you were in your life."

He dropped his hands, stepped back. "Go on. Get out of here. You got what you wanted. I can't give you anything else."

She hesitated, reached a hand out. Laid it on his forearm. "Hunter?" He met her eyes. "Thank you."

He didn't reply. She dragged her hand down to his, laced their fingers. Slowly, deliberately, she brought his hand to her mouth, opened it and pressed a kiss to his palm.

He trembled. Ever so slightly. Revealing himself. What he wanted.

He wanted her.

And in that moment, she realized she wanted him as well. Without thoughts of consequences or tomorrows, she drew him closer, against her. She tilted her face up to his.

She saw the desire in his dark gaze. And the vulnerability. The combination took her breath.

She brought his hand to her chest, just above the swell of her left breast.

"Avery, I don't-"

"Yes, you do." She leaned closer. "And I do, too."

She kissed him then. Deeply. Without hesitation. She wanted him, he wanted her. Simple.

He kissed her back. In a way that left no question who would lead. Not breaking their kiss, he lifted her.