From Ashes (From Ashes #1)(79)



A sob burst through my chest and I covered my face with both hands. The mom in that letter hadn’t existed for me for so long, I had never expected to see or hear from her again. And even though I hated her for what she did, I hated it even more that she’d been sober nine months and had to go through it alone. At least I’d had Tyler; my mom had no one.

Another twenty minutes passed before I checked to make sure I didn’t look like a wreck and walked into the cozy coffee shop so I could allow myself to get lost in a book. Or at least attempt to look like I was. I really just needed someplace where no one was trying to bother me so that I could think about Gage.

I was one person back in line when a somewhat familiar voice called out.

“Cassidy?”

Looking to my right and then to my left, my eyes skimmed across the unfamiliar faces in the shop. As my eyes made their journey back to the front I saw a pair of uncertain pale blue eyes looking at me.

I started. “Oh my God, Detective Green?” I’d just seen him a week and a half ago, but he’d been in a suit and looked all badass and older then. Now he just looked like a normal guy in a coffee shop. Looking at him now, the sense of recognition hit full force and I struggled to remember how I knew him. He had on a blue henley shirt that did amazing things for his eyes and a pair of worn jeans that fit him perfectly. In other words . . . he looked good. Too good. My stomach fluttered, and though it took some effort, I was able to stop chewing on my bottom lip when I realized he was studying me intently.

He smiled crookedly. “Unless you want me to call you Miss Jameson, you can call me Connor.”

Connor Green. Even his name was attractive. I watched as he ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up like he’d just rolled out of bed. God, I needed to look anywhere else but at him right now. “Please, just Cassidy . . . or some variation of that.”

“All right.” He chuckled. “Cassidy it is. Let me buy you a drink,” he said as he set his cup on the counter and reached for his wallet in his back pocket.

“Oh no, that’s not necessary.” I gave the lady at the counter my order and reached into my bag.

“I want to, please.” He handed the girl his card and she swiped it through the machine.

The girl at the register gave him an appreciative smile as she handed his card back to him, and my stomach and chest heated. I realized I was glaring at her and mentally shook myself. What the hell? Why do I care if someone else looks at him? He’s just an overly confident detective who I must know from a past life and who’s done nothing but manage to piss me off . . . and make my heart flutter—nope! Nope . . . just piss me off.

“Uh, thanks. You really didn’t have to do that though.”

Connor took a sip of his coffee and smiled softly. “Well, maybe this way you’ll agree to sit and talk with me for a while?” My face must have fallen because he said swiftly, “I swear, no type of interrogation, I would just really enjoy your company.”

He’d been kind of an ass the last few times I’d seen him, so I wasn’t sure if I’d enjoy his, but I’d certainly enjoy the view. I thought about Gage and grimaced; I really shouldn’t have been thinking of another guy like this. Especially this guy.

“If you’re busy, I understand. It’s probably awkward to talk to the detective who just questioned you regarding your parents’ death anyway,” he said quietly, and looked out the window, then back to me. His mouth opened and shut again with a hard sigh and shake of his head.

I twisted my father’s ring around on my thumb and managed a shrug. “Well, I was going to sit here for a while anyway. I just got back from the reading of the will and have nothing else going on. You can join me if you want.” I tried to act like I didn’t care either way, but his crooked grin told me he wasn’t buying it.

The guy behind the bar called my drink, and after I grabbed it, Connor led us over to a pair of plush chairs that were facing, and almost touching, each other.

“So they read the will today. How did that go?”

I studied his face to see if he was digging for information that would help with his job, but when he just looked worried, my head tilted to the side and I shrugged again. “It went. I was the only one there, so it was over pretty quickly.”

He nodded. “So now that everything is over with, how long do you think you’ll stay in California?”

“Not sure, I need to go back to Texas. I really just up and left everything, but I feel like I need to figure some things out first. Tyler went back on Sunday so I finally have time to myself. I’ll probably take another week or so, unless you guys need me for something . . . ?”

“Uh, no.” He huffed and shook his head slightly. “No, the fire and deaths were confirmed accidents. I know I already said it, but I am sorry for the way the questions went the first day—”

“Don’t be,” I said, cutting him off, “that’s your job, right? Can’t really blame you for doing that, and I’ve got to say, you’ve got it down to an art.”

Connor sat back and laughed out loud. “An art, huh?”

“You do! I remember thinking that during. You look completely calm while you’re talking, not giving anything away, but your eyes are so intense that it throws the person you’re talking to off and I can see how you could get people to start spilling stuff. I know I did . . .” I trailed off and looked to the side.

Molly McAdams's Books