“Isn’t it, though?” he said wearily.

“But you didn’t kill Megan and her family. Her mother was the adult and she stayed with a dangerous man. Why didn’t Megan go to the police? Why did she come to you?”

“I guess in her mind, we were still friends. She probably still had a crush on me. I never shunned her and we’d sometimes talk in the hall, between classes. Like I said, I felt sorry for her. Looking back, I can see how isolated she’d become. How she walked around with her head down. I thought she was just sad because she wasn’t popular.”

“You were a teenager, David.”

“I know, but still.” He drew another breath and she realized there was more. “I went home after seeing her all… broken. I kept trying to remember what she’d said, wondering why she’d come to me. Then I remembered she’d rushed up to me between classes the day before the party, asked if I’d found the note she put in my literature book. I was busy so I said, ‘Sure.’ She asked if I’d do it. I had no idea what she was talking about and said, ‘Sure,’ without even stopping. I found the note the day she died.”

“What did it say?”

He pushed himself to his feet wearily to take his wallet from the pants he’d thrown over the chair and pulled out a worn, creased sheet of paper. Unfolding it with care, he silently handed it to her.

Olivia found it hard not to wince as she read the words of a girl who believed her old friend was still her best friend. “Her mother wouldn’t leave him and Megan didn’t know who else to trust,” she murmured. “She asked you to pick her up the next night.”

“That would have been the night of the party. She was taking her little brother and they were going to run. She just needed a ride to the bus station. I could have saved them if I had cracked the book to find her letter.”

She sighed. “Okay, you might have saved them. Then again, you might have shown up with your car and the stepdad might have shot you all. The truth is, there were resources for Megan and her mother. Her mother was the adult. She should have called the police. It was a tragedy, David, but you didn’t cause it.”

He refolded the letter, put it back in his wallet, then looked down at her, agony in his eyes. “I still see their faces.”

“Because you’ve got a soul. If you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. You didn’t know how critical the situation was. If you had, you would have acted.”

He swallowed hard. “How do you know?”

“Because you didn’t ‘become’ the man you are now overnight. Those values were in you, or you wouldn’t have tortured yourself over this for eighteen years. David, you’ve helped so many. You turned a tragedy into a spirit of service. How long will you make that selfish boy pay?”

“I don’t know. But that’s why I worried about what I’d done that night with you.”

“You worried that you forced me? David, you didn’t force Megan, even then. When she said stop, you did. You weren’t civil about it, but you stopped. Didn’t you?”

He nodded. “Yes, I guess I did. But…”

“How many families did you help Dana save in her shelter?”

“Dozens, I suppose.”

“You support the work of the shelters all over town, so more families continue to be saved. Megan was a victim, but so many won’t be. That has to be enough,” she said, “because it never can be enough. There will always be wrongs in the world. We can’t right them all. We just have to do the best we can.”

He sat back down on the edge of the bed. “I know that.”

“But it’s still hard. It’s hard to see people in pain and not fix it. Thank you for telling me about Megan. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Does it change anything?” he asked tightly.

“You mean about what I think of you? Yes and no. You’re a good person. That hasn’t changed. But about what happened between us?” She shrugged. “You said another woman’s name when you were with me, then you moved here and it was like you didn’t know I was alive. I wanted to hate you. Some part of me did.”

He didn’t look at her. “Do you still?”

“Hate you? No. I understand now what you were afraid you’d done. But I can’t ignore the fact that you loved Dana at one time. That she was still in your mind when you were with me. I think putting that out of my mind is going to take time.”

“And heart,” he murmured. “And trust.”

“Yes. You’re going to have to give me time to trust you. And I still don’t understand why you wasted two and half years of our lives. Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I was afraid of what you’d say,” he confessed quietly. “I didn’t want to think I could be a monster. Again.”

Her heart squeezed. “You know, the night you had too much champagne you told me that you hated weddings because everyone else had someone and you were alone. I wondered how a man who looked like you could be lonely.”

His jaw tightened. “It’s just a face, Olivia. I did nothing to earn it.”

She brushed her fingers against his cheek. “It’s a very nice face. But more important is the man beneath. You’re a good man, David. Honorable and kind. You make the world a better place.”

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes glittering. “I needed you to think so.”

His eyes held hers. She couldn’t look away if she’d wanted to. “I do.”

“I still want you,” he whispered, “more than I want to breathe.”

Her pulse quickened. “Who needs to breathe?” Before she could blink, his mouth was on hers, ravenous and greedy, his hands setting fire to her skin wherever he touched. He tumbled her to the pillows and followed her down. Then she couldn’t breathe and didn’t care.

Wednesday, September 22, 12:25 a.m.

He snugged the knot of his tie, his cop costume complete. Neckties were uncomfortable. Never got how his old man could wear them around the house.

He climbed from the back of his van to the front and drove to a street that paralleled the school’s rear parking lot. The lot was their evacuation spot, conveniently included on the school’s Web page to give the parents a fuzzy feeling about their kids’ safety.

It’s showtime. Voice scrambler in one hand, cell phone in the other, he called the school’s main switchboard, his message memorized.

Wednesday, September 22, 12:35 a.m.

Olivia was almost asleep when a phone rang. “It’s yours,” she mumbled. “Mine plays Looney Tunes.”

David leaned over her and fumbled for his cell. “Hunter.” He abruptly jumped out of bed and, shoving the phone between his shoulder and ear, pulled on his boxers. “What happened?” He grabbed his pants, then his hands went still. “I’m on my way.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “I thought you didn’t have to report till eight.”

“Callback situation. Reinforcements needed on a residence fire out of control.”

“Why didn’t they just call supporting firehouses?”

“They did. This is really bad and we have some men down. The fire spread to the next house and a propane tank blew. Took out part of the block.” He finished getting dressed then leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. “Go back to sleep. I may not be back for a while.” He hesitated at the door. “Olivia…”

She knew what he wanted to say, but knew as well as he did that it was way too soon for words they’d both take very seriously. “I’ll be fine. You be careful.”

“Always. I’ll call you in the morning if I’m not back.”

She switched off the light and slid back down under the blanket. Then on an impulse, switched pillows. She could smell him and it made her sigh. She’d nearly dozed off when her cell phone blasted the Looney Tunes theme. Loudly. “Sutherland.”

“It’s Kane. You need to get to the deaf school. Now.”

She swung out of bed, wincing. Her muscles had been sorely taxed. “Why?”

“Bomb threat.”

Adrenaline cleared her brain and she dropped her dress over her head. “When?”

“Ten minutes ago. They’re evacuating the school now. The bomb squad and the fire department are already there.”