Gabe stood. “Get some sleep. I’ll check in with you later.”
He held out his hand. Dante clasped his arm and pulled him in for a tight hug.
He never got close to people, hadn’t since he’d left here. Gabe and the others had been the only people he’d truly counted on. They were the only ones he’d ever told his secrets to. He trusted them with everything without question.
Or he had at one time.
Like Gabe had said—everything had changed in twelve years.
“It’s good to have you home again,” Gabe said.
“It’s good to be home.”
He was surprised to discover he actually meant it.
Anna was armpit deep in the thing she hated most—paperwork—when Dante strolled into the squad room and made a beeline for her desk.
She frowned. “Who let you in?”
“Some guy named McClaren.”
“Remind me to withhold his donuts.”
“Funny.”
He made himself at home by sliding into the chair next to her desk, extending his long, lean legs out in front of him. He wore a dark gray T-shirt that stretched tight across a very well-developed chest, his muscled biceps peeking out from the hem of the short sleeves.
And just like before, the stupid sex chemicals in her body roared to life. God, now that he’d grown up he was devastating, which she would have already been well aware of if he hadn’t left her twelve years ago.
She refused to be attracted to him. She intended to stay angry. His reappearance had brought unpleasant things, just like the last time she’d seen him.
He might even be considered a suspect. She wasn’t about to be attracted to a suspect.
She turned her attention on him, determined to remain cool and aloof.
“Something you want?”
He gave her a half-lidded look that made her squirm in her chair, so she chose to ignore him and concentrated on her paperwork instead.
“I take it you’re busy?”
“Master of the obvious, aren’t you?” she replied while not really studying the file in front of her.
“Want me to help?”
She lifted her gaze to his. “You a cop?”
He smiled at her. She’d always loved his smile. He’d made promises to her with that smile. Promises he hadn’t kept.
“Not a cop, no.”
“Then you should leave and let me be one.”
“I thought I’d hang out with you awhile and we could catch up. Maybe we could go grab something to eat.”
“I’m on duty, Dante.”
“You’re doing paperwork, Anna. Unless your captain thinks it’s a bad idea for me to be here and throws me out.”
She wished. As far as her captain knew she could be interviewing a witness or an informant at her desk. And he wasn’t even at the precinct at the moment, so the likelihood of him throwing Dante out were as remote as James Patterson strolling into the squad room to interview her for his next book.
She should be so lucky.
“Catch any bad guys tonight?”
“I think they stayed inside out of the heat.”
“Smart of them.”
“What about you?”
“Did I catch any, or was I one of them?”
He was a mind reader. Her lips curved while she made some notes in the file and closed it. “You said it, I didn’t.”
“I’m not a bad guy, Anna.”
“So you say.”
“Anything on George yet?”
“I’m not discussing a case with you, especially one you’re directly involved in.”
“Indirectly.”
“Whatever.” And no, she hadn’t found a thing, something she noted in the file she opened next. Unfortunately, she had no suspects. There were no prints at the scene and no witnesses. The only reason George Clemons was dead was a direct link to that night twelve years ago. And because of all of them.
Because of her.
Then there was Dante conveniently showing up at the same time a murder was committed. A murder of someone he was tied to.
And she knew nothing about Dante or where he’d been. No record, no priors, he showed up in no criminal databases, which she supposed should have relieved her, but the odd thing was he showed up nowhere. At all. It was as if he didn’t exist after he left here. Which made her more suspicious, not less.
She knew a lot of guys worked odd jobs for cash, so they never reported income, but for twelve years? Come on.
It made her wonder even more what the hell he’d been doing for the past twelve years. And why he was suddenly back. He said he was back for George and Ellen’s anniversary party. But then George turned up dead. She didn’t like it. Not at all.
As much as she wanted to keep the past where it belonged, as much as she didn’t want to encourage Dante, especially after last night, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get close to him, to find out where he’d been and what he’d been doing while he was gone. Because if he was connected in any way to George’s murder…
“Anything on the flowers and note?”
She shook her head. “Forensics got no prints, which doesn’t surprise me. The scene around my house came up clear, too. It’s just like the alley.”
“What about the alley?”
Dammit. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“Talk to me, Anna.”
“No. I’m not discussing this investigation with you.”
She laid her head in her hands.
“Tired?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Did you sleep?”
“I got a little.” Mainly what she got was a whole load of frustration, staring at the ceiling and fantasizing about Dante.
Hot, steamy fantasies. Naked ones.
Ugh.
As if late June wasn’t already hot enough…
Cool fingers swept across her neck, pressing in and massaging the tight muscles there. For a split second she forgot she was at work, that there were other cops there.
Then she jerked her head up and shrugged his hand off. “Stop that.”
His lips curled. “You don’t want me to stop.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“You didn’t want me to stop then, either.”
She looked around, expecting to find the entire squad room of cops staring at her.
No one was even in the room.
Shit.
“You can’t do that here.”
“Where would you like to do it?”
She sighed. “You’ve been back in town for a little more than one day. We hardly know each other anymore. Why the hard press to get in my pants?”