Most of the time, she was. Her training as a critical-care nurse required her to be able to make quick decisions and handle problems that arose on her own. She no longer worked in a hospital setting as she had back in DC, but her new career as a private nurse demanded she function independentlythat she rely on her own experience and skill set to deal with whatever her patient needed. She kept contact with coworkers to a minimum, and with friends even less. She wasnt going to risk the man who carved up her husband finding her through even a casual conversation or picture that could end up posted online. She was already on emotional thin ice by developing a bond with Seamus. He reminded her so much of her own grandfather that she knew she hadnt kept herself as professionally distant as she should, and that gave her a weakness, leverage that sociopath wouldnt hesitate to use against her if he ever found her. It would be far too easy to lean against a man like Thomas and surrender to his strength and authority. Once she did that, however, shed be completely vulnerable. Easy prey for the stalking skills her husbands killer possessed.
She couldnt drop her guard like that again. Ever. No matter how the fear and loneliness wore her down.
Shed have to be more careful. Jane slipped a glance over at the tall, powerfully built man sitting across the table from her, forcing herself to take another bite of the cold potatoes when she saw him watching her, his eyes narrowed with an unspoken question. Thomas Watson seemed gentle and unassuming at first, a mature man at ease in his own skina police officer, former military man and single father used to command, used to taking action and fixing problems, even if they werent his own.
That man had eyes in the back of his head. Or ESP. Or the training to read people and know when something was off, just as her late husband had when hed worked with the violent crimes unit at the FBI. She curled her fingers into her palm beneath the table, remembering how the simple touch of his hand had grounded her, calmed her for a few precious seconds. Thomas generated the kind of heat she hadnt felt since that last morning she and Fred had embraced and each had gone off to their respective jobs in Washington, DC. She missed that kind of contacta hug, holding hands, a kiss. But she couldnt give in to that kind of need anymore. She had to stay strong. She had to survive. She owed Freddie that much.
Even as Thomas ordered four decaf coffees from the waitress, his moss-colored eyes managed to make contact with hers, silently asking for the umpteenth time if anything was wrong. Jane gave up the pretense of having any appetite and set down her fork.
Fortunately, they had the buffer of Millies chatting and Seamuss determined responses to keep Thomas from following up with any more pointed questions about the messages shed been receiving. Some of the calls were friendly checkups from one of her husbands friends at the Bureau back in Washington, DC. Levi Hunt wasnt supposed to know where shed relocated after leaving DC. She supposed he had the reputation as a skilled investigator for a reason. And as a member of her husbands former violent crimes team, he felt personally responsible for making sure she was okay. But her goal had been to leave that whole life, and the dreadful night it had ended, behind her. The fact that he was able to contact her might mean others from that period in her lifewhen shed been Fred Daviss wifewould try to contact her, too. More of the messages had been routine checkups from the one man who was supposed to know about her new life in Kansas City.
And it was that last text from Conor Wildman that had her delicious barbecue dinner sitting like a rock in her stomach. Had something broken on the investigation? Had her new identity been compromised? Had the killer left another victim with a badge carved in his chest?
At your old house. Come see me. Urgent.
Shed texted back when shed left the hospital and gotten into the back seat of Thomass crew cab truck. With the family. At work. Cant get away.
Conor had been quick to answer. Hes surfaced. Cant go into detail on phone. Must meet.
WITSEC had a code word and a visual signal to alert her to a sighting of a man matching the suspects description near her location. Then there was an escape protocol in place. Since Marshal Wildman hadnt used the coded alert in his text, that meant she wasnt in imminent danger of being discovered. Typically, shed been taught to lie low and not draw any attention to herself, even when there was a new development on the case. The whole idea behind witness protection was for her to disappear off the worlds radar. But words like urgent and must meet indicated the threat level had increased for some reason. That meant she needed to be more on guard, too. But against what? Who?
A deep-pitched laugh from Seamus pulled Jane from her troubling thoughts. He held up a forkful of cobbler and toasted Millie. Not as good as yours. But good.
Millies cheeks turned a deep shade of pink as he stuffed the peach cobbler into his mouth. Jane felt the beginnings of a smile relax the strain around her mouth. Her patient was an unapologetic flirt. When he was feeling good. When he wasnteither physically or mentallySeamus could be a pain in the behind. And dear, sweet Millieshe ate up the attention when offered, and didnt put up with any guff from Seamus when it wasnt. One trait shed noticed about all of the Watson family: the strength of their commitmentto the people they loved, to a cause they believed in. She believed that, despite his age, given enough time, Seamus would make a significant recovery. Some of the damage the bullet and stroke had done to his brain would never heal, but eventually hed be able to live independently, and hed have a good quality of life.
She was certain Thomas would see to it.
Personality-wise, father and son couldnt be more different. While Seamus liked to tease, Thomas was as serious as a heart attack. She supposed some women might describe him as stodgy or maybe even boring, compared with his outgoing dad. But she couldnt imagine anything more attractive than a man who put his family first, a man who was rock solid in his strength and demeanor, a man who noticed much, said little, did whatever needed to be done without much of a fuss. Such masculine traits. Maybe thats what she found most attractive about Detective Lieutenant Thomas Watsondespite a few shots of silver in his close-cropped hair, there was no mistaking that he was anything but a seasoned, savvy, sexy man.
All the more reason not to give in to the temptation of sharing her secrets with her employer. He wasnt hers to lean on. Seamus needed him. His family needed him. Kansas City needed him. She couldnt.
The sun had set and the lights had come on in the parking lot by the time theyd finished their coffee and Thomas had paid the bill. She noticed how Thomass limp was more pronounced at the end of the day as he strode across the parking lot to retrieve his pickup truck. Not for the first time, she wondered what injury hed sustained to leave him with that chronic pain she sometimes saw on his face, but he never once complained about. She wondered what medicine and treatments he used to combat the pain, or if he even did more than simply tough it out.
Not your problem. Hes not your patient.
Concern for her boss wasnt allowed. Concern implied caring. Involvement. Maintaining a professional working relationship and keeping her personal distance meant no concern, no magnetic draw to body heat and strength, and no hand-holding. Period.