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“Well, she might talk to me. Or us,” she conceded quickly, at Lorenzo’s widened eyes. Definitely brown-green.
    â€œUs,” he repeated. Like he didn’t want her to help.
    â€œYou don’t think I can just go home and forget that all this…this whatever’s-going-on is going on, do you?”
    That she could go back to that half life? Sure, it was safe. But that’s all it was. And she’d thought she’d stopped them. On some level she’d really thought…
    He stood. Wow, he was a big guy. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I think. It’s my job, not yours.”
    â€œArguable.”
    â€œThis isn’t your jurisdiction. Mayberry is your jurisdiction.” Which was true, sarcasm aside. But Almanuevo wasn’t exactly his jurisdiction either.
    Jo stood, too—not that it made a big difference—and folded her arms. “You’re the one who said I could help.”
    â€œBy telling me your story, in case there’s any connection. You did, and I’m thinking there isn’t.”
    â€œYou also said Ashley won’t talk to you.”
    â€œYeah, well maybe I just need to turn on the Lorenzo charm.” When she lifted an eyebrow at him, he looked mildly hurt. “Hey, I can be charming!”
    â€œLook,” insisted Jo. “I’m still not sure what to believe. But if there’s any connection between those missing persons and what happened at the mine, I am not letting it go until I find out more. I can either work with you, or on my own. Your call.”
    Now he folded his arms. The pose looked impressive on him; probably more than on her. “I don’t want to distract myself baby-sitting you while I’m going after whatever this is, okay?”
    Baby-sitting? Luckily, she felt too good to hit him. He looked so serious—and annoyed—that she grinned instead. “And how many monsters have you blown up, tough guy?”
    It degenerated into a staring contest, which Jo won. Lorenzo’s eyes were a lot easier to resist when he was being this obnoxious. And watching them kept her gaze off his body.
    â€œFine,” the detective spat. “Fan-freakin’-tastic. Lemme shower and we’ll go talk to the nurse. Finish the damned pie.”
    That last sounded like an order, so Jo resorted to equal familiarity.
    â€œYou need a shave, too.” She didn’t just feel good, she feltcocky. Alert. Awake, after having been asleep for far, far too long. Willing to try a risk or two—maybe with him.
    Breathing.
    Lorenzo began to move a hand—and not to check his jaw—but lowered it self-consciously before disappearing into the bathroom. He’d probably been raised not to flip off ladies.
    Jo felt more stunned than if he had. She slowly sank back into her chair. The man was wearing a ring. How long had she been out of the dating world, that she hadn’t even looked until now?
    A wedding ring.
    She heard the shower come on in the bathroom and forced herself not to think about a big, swarthy, naked Zack Lorenzo. Wet. She tried not to look at the shadowy, rumpled bed.
    The man was married. Maybe to the Italian girl pictured in his wallet. Some risks, you couldn’t pay her to take.
    Jo told herself that it didn’t matter; they were investigating missing persons, not flirting. In fact, it was probably better that he was married. Safer. It meant she could stay casual with him. It meant she didn’t have to worry about messy romantic complications. The last man she’d been interested in had died and then tried to kill her. In that order.
    For the first time in years, she let herself admit that.
    But when she phoned Deputy Fred, to let him know she’d be out the rest of the day, Jo felt disappointment dull the bright edge that her life had taken on a few minutes earlier. Because of a man. One she’d barely even been attracted to.
    It pissed her off.
    Good thing she had