The Bliss Factor (41 page)

“I’m giving up fieldwork.”

That stopped her for a second, but only a second. “Not trying to make up for past sins anymore?”

“I’m staying on as a handler,” he said, and the hope she’d been unable to prevent jumped up another notch. “I won’t say I’ve come to terms with what happened, Rae, I probably never will, completely. But even if I forgave myself, this is what I do, and who I am. I like knowing I’m making a difference.”

“Why tell me? I mean, I’m glad for your sake, but what do I have to do with it?”

“I love you.”

He said it so simply, so sincerely she had to believe him. And the hope in her heart blossomed into love so deep and so strong that what she’d felt before paled by comparison. Music played, angels sang, the sun came out, and all the anger and hurt, the weeks of battling her own heart, disappeared because he loved her. There had to be something wrong with that, but she just didn’t give a damn. Common sense would no doubt sap the glow out of being loved at some future point, decisions would have to be made, and they’d need to be tempered with caution, but she was giving this moment everything she had.

“Took you long enough,” she said, taking a step closer. “If we weren’t in the hallway outside the federal courtroom where my parents are being sentenced—”

“The hell with where we are.” He gathered her into his arms and kissed her, just long enough to make her want more before he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “If we weren’t in the hallway outside the federal courtroom where your parents are being sentenced . . .” he said. “Although I don’t think it’s going to take long.”

Rae glanced toward the closed doors, surprised to see the hallway was empty. She’d been so focused on Conn she hadn’t realized everyone had gone in.

“So what are you doing later on?”

“Well,” Rae said, “I think I’ll be seeing my parents off. I imagine they’ll want to get to Colorado Springs and their winter camp.”

“That works for me.”

“After that I have to pack.”

“Pack?”

“And put my house up for sale—since I took the job Mr. DeWitt offered me about a half hour ago.”

“So, you’re going to be working at the FBI?”

“Forensic accountant.”

“Convenient.”

She turned serious. “I didn’t do it to be close to you, Conn.”

“I know, but it’s pretty damn convenient, so I’m hoping you’ll want to anyway—be close to me, I mean.”

“Possible,” she said, grinning as she headed toward the courtroom.

Conn got there first and put a hand on the door. “I said something to you a couple minutes ago. You didn’t reciprocate.”

“If we’re keeping score, you were behind. And since it took you several months to catch up, consider it payback.”

He started to pull the door open; she stopped him this time. “You know, Madame Zaretsky’s prediction came true. She said you weren’t long for this life. I’m glad it only turned out to be a job change.”

“Yeah? How glad?”

She slipped her hand into his, gave him a sidelong glance that came along with a little bit of a smirk. “Ask me that question again tonight.”

Penny McCall
lives in Michigan with her husband, three children, and two dogs, whose lives of leisure she envies, but would never be able to pull off. Her children and husband have come to accept her strange preoccupation with imaginary people. The dogs don’t worry about it, as long as they’re fed occasionally and allowed to nap on whatever piece of furniture strikes their fancy. Come to think of it, that pretty much goes for the husband, too. Visit her web-site at
www.pennymccall.net
.