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expected, Dillon said, "My
wife used to accuse me of the same thing," and at her stunned
silence, explained, "Ex-wife. We divorced seven years ago."
    Claire longed to ask what line of work he'd
been in. Certainly not the bar and grill business, she'd bet money
on it. But she had promised herself not to push the man for
answers, to shelve the probing attorney for awhile. Who knows, I
might even give soft and vulnerable a shot , she mused, then
resisted an impulse to laugh at the thought.
    As they moved to leave the puppy pen, she
said, "Looks like we have more in common than just the
Iditarod."
    He allowed that slanted smile she found too
attractive. "Looks that way."
    From the corner of her eye, Claire saw Noel
make a dash for the open gate. She jumped back to cut off the pup's
escape, and bumped square into Dillon. The unexpected contact sent
a tingle through her.
    Okay, so maybe soft and vulnerable wasn't all
that impossible. Uncomfortable with the realization, she took a
retreating step toward the cabin. "Well, I still have a bazillion
dog booties to sew." Not entirely true – most of the booties
shipped to checkpoints last week – but it was the best she could do
in the moment. She took another step. "I'll see you at dinner."
    "What happened to the client facing
death?"
    She stopped, drew in a shallow breath. A
familiar knot tightened her stomach. "He got life without
parole."
    "A small victory then."
    "He deserved to die."
    Dillon's brow lifted a fraction. "You were
his defense attorney."
    "It doesn't mean I had to like him." She
couldn't bring herself to say the man's name, wouldn't allow it to
stain her lips. "That was one of the tough ones."
    "Could you have gotten him acquitted?"
    "No. He beat a couple and their two young
children to death, all for a few prescription drugs." The photos of
the bludgeoned three-year-old girl would haunt her for the rest of
her life. She wished to God she could have exacted revenge for the
murdered family. She wished to God she hadn't been so good at her
job that time.
    "The family is dead but their killer
lives."
    Claire stared at Dillon for long seconds,
surprised he'd picked up on her deep-rooted regret so easy. "Yes,"
she said, and walked away.
     
     

Chapter 7
     
    Dillon could only be thankful he hadn't acted
on his impulse to dare the woman to a round of strip poker after
everyone else went to bed. He'd be freezing his naked butt off by
now, while she sat across from him, comfortable in her pink sweats,
giving him that damn Cheshire grin.
    "Another hand?" Claire asked, raking the
cards into a pile in front of her.
    "Yes." They kept their voices low to avoid
waking Andy, asleep on the couch at the other end of the room.
Janey and Matt had tossed in their cards a short while later.
    "You haven't got any match sticks left."
    "Extend my credit."
    "You're already in the hole for
two-hundred."
    Dillon feigned irritation, enjoying the
camaraderie they'd slid into. He knew how much it cost her to talk
about the murder case earlier, saw in her eyes how deep the scar
went. She'd been closer to the truth than she realized when she
said they had more in common than the upcoming race. "Afraid my
luck's going to change?"
    Her grin widened. "Fifty okay?"
    "Fifty's fine."
    She counted matches from her stock, made a
notation on the pad next to her, and slid the pile across the
table. "You don't like losing, do you," she said as she shuffled
the cards.
    "You cheated."
    "Did not." She finished shuffling – her long
fingers with their blunt nails never missing a beat – and placed
the stack in the center of the table.
    "You pretended not to understand the game
when Andy and his folks were playing with us." Dillon cut the
cards.
    Claire began dealing. "I asked questions I
thought would help Andy pick up on the game quicker. That's not
cheating."
    "You played dirty then."
    She gave a low laugh and tossed in her ante.
"There's no law against that."
    "There ought to be."
    And there ought to be a