drinks, catch up. But, shit. Did she have a boyfriend? Or worseâwas she married ? The thought that she might be happy with someone elseâsomeone worthy of her loveâgave him peace and made him want to hurl at the same time.
Fuck it.
He had to hear her voice. He had to know. It was hard enough to avoid thinking about her when he was hundreds of miles away and busy building a career, but now that he was back home, she was all he could think about. If he was ever going to move on, he had to get this over with.
Kyle went to his contacts before he lost his nerve and paged through until he found Abbyâs number. His blood was pounding so loudly in his ears that he almost couldnât hear the phone ringing.
* * *
Abby had only been on the road to her nephewâs school for a matter of moments when her phone rang, startling her from her thoughts. Worried it might be Tyler trying to reach her, she fished the phone out of her purse and glanced down at the display.
Her stomach sank when she saw the number, even though sheâd known this call would be coming. She heaved a sigh, silently berating herself for how her voice shook when she answered, âAbby Morrow.â
âGood day, Deputy Morrow,â came the smooth voice on the other end of the line. âI believe you were to have some information for me today.â
Sheâd already talked to her clientâs personal assistant in an effort to explain she needed just a few more days, at which time Abby had been assured she would have to answer for her âlack of cooperation.â She only hoped her client was more understanding than his harpy assistant had been.
Abby cleared her throat. âAs I explained to your assistant, Iâve pulled the data you requested, Mr. Hamilton, but Iâd like to have a little more time to run the reports again to determineââ
âThat wonât be necessary,â he interrupted. âYouâve already had ample time to go through the technology I provided, Deputy Morrow. And I have every confidence in your abilities. After all, my connections assure me you are quite talented.â
âWell, thank you, sir,â she demurred, ignoring the beep in her ear that indicated another call was coming in, âbutââ
âI have a great interest in learning what youâve discovered,â Hamilton told her, cutting her off in that particular manner unique to men not used to being denied. âIt would be unfortunate if you were unable to satisfy the terms of our contract.â
âMr. Hamilton,â Abby began, struggling to keep her tone even and calm, âI just need a little more time. A day or two at most. Regrettably, the data is a little more complicated than Iâd anticipated.â
There was a heavy pause before Hamilton finally said, âThat is regrettable, indeed.â
The phone beeped in Abbyâs ear, signaling the end of the call as she rolled to a stop at a traffic light. She shuddered, her skin prickling.
What had Hamilton meant? Was his parting remark permission to take a couple more days or a thinly veiled threat? And there was something in the way heâd said regrettable that had the little spot at the small of her back tingling, sending little tendrils of dread slithering up her spine. She shrugged a couple of times and rolled her head, trying to push the feeling away, but it persisted.
Abby closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She wouldnât give in to the paranoia. Couldnât . It had taken her two years to stop constantly looking over her shoulder after her fatherâs murder. And sheâd promised herself back then that sheâd never devolve into the fearful, timid little mouse sheâd been as a teenager. Sheâd seen what that kind of paranoia could do to a person, had witnessed her motherâs never-ending series of breakdowns far too intimately.
That was the primary