Say It Again (First Wives, #5)(17)

“A man who beats on a woman is capable of shooting out her tires.”

Everything inside of him screamed no. No! AJ shook his head.

“Two women isn’t a pattern, AJ.”

“Which is why I need more names. More people Amelia associated with at Richter that I can look up and talk to.”

Sasha kept silent.

“Listen, all I want is a few more names. Some of the other students she graduated with.”

“Didn’t Amelia keep her yearbooks?”

It was his turn to offer a knowing smile. “You would think so, wouldn’t you? Only guess what I didn’t find when I went to her condo after her funeral.”

“Your parents’ house, then.”

He shook his head. “The only childhood possessions they kept of hers were those ceramic gizmos and handmade Mother’s Day cards we all gave to our parents.”

Sasha paused.

“Was her place broken into?”

“No.”

“Then maybe she just threw them away.”

“Why would she do that?” AJ looked over Sasha’s shoulder and noticed a man eating an ice cream cone and staring at Sasha. The middle-aged guy turned his attention away and took a few steps in the opposite direction.

“Maybe she . . .”

AJ felt eyes, turned to his left.

No one.

“What is it?” Sasha asked.

“The guy with the ice cream, over your left shoulder.”

She grinned, cocked her head to the side. “We did this last night.”

“Yeah, only I’m not asking you to lay a lip lock on me. Tempting as that might be.” Truth was, he’d thought about that kiss more times than he wanted to admit. “If how you’re dressed is any indication, you’re the expert on all things undercover. You tell me if you feel the weight of someone’s stare.”

Sasha paused, then looked over her shoulder. “That him?” she asked, thumbing toward the guy with the ice cream.

“Yeah.”

She grabbed AJ’s hand and walked directly toward the guy he thought for sure was watching them.

“What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer. “Excuse me?” Her voice rose a full octave, her smile was sickeningly sweet. Any accent he’d detected from her voice was gone . . . or changed.

The man with the cone turned toward them. “Yes?”

“Are you American? You look American.”

“I’m, ah . . . yeah.” The guy looked directly at AJ.

Sasha kept going. “Good. Would you mind taking our picture? I can’t get the gate behind us with a selfie.”

Again the guy offered AJ unblinking eyes. “Ah, sure.” He reached for the phone Sasha was handing him.

Next thing AJ realized, he was standing beside Sasha, her arm slipped around his waist, and he was smiling like all of the other tourists surrounding them while the man he thought was spying on them took their picture.

The stranger holding Sasha’s phone, while trying to balance his ice cream cone, looked completely out of place.

“Take a second one, just in case.” Sasha giggled.

The sound of her voice didn’t suit her. The hand on his waist, however, suited him just fine. The feel of her there, the warmth, the softness he knew she would hate if he pointed it out, felt a little too right.

“Thank you so much.”

The stranger handed her phone back with a nod. “Have fun.”

She waved. “We will . . . thanks.”

And he was gone.

AJ watched the man slip away as Sasha removed herself from AJ’s side.

He missed her warmth, instantly.

“Any self-preserving spy wouldn’t have made contact,” Sasha told him.

The two of them walked toward the center of the square. “Okay,” AJ started. “Maybe I’m a little paranoid.”

“You’re a lot paranoid.”

AJ paused in the middle of the plaza and stared at the massive horses that sat atop the gate. The image of his sister at Christmas the previous year surfaced. It was the last time he’d seen her alive. “I know Amelia’s death wasn’t random, Sasha. I feel it with every breath I take.”

She sighed. “I know you do.”

He looked at her. “You don’t believe me.”

“I believe you believe.”

He lowered his head, studied the salt-and-pepper colored stones beneath his feet. “You’re not going to help.” Damn it . . . he was back to ground zero.

Another heavy sigh from the woman at his side. “I will help you.”

AJ snapped his head up. “What?”

She placed a hand in the air as in warning. “Not because I think you have anything other than grief inside you. The not knowing, or never accepting the facts, can eat you alive.”

Not ground zero. He wanted to kiss her. Not that she would be receptive to that kind of thing. “Why are you doing this?” There wasn’t anything in it for her.

Sasha turned away from him and focused her attention on the Brandenburg Gate. “Because I’m not bored.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” he asked.

“No.”

She shook her head as if dismissing a thought and started to walk.