The Unknown Beloved(57)

“No, I don’t know.” He sounded so irked.

“Paper is very absorbent. Mr. Ness must have looked through the files before he gave them to you. He must have held them and looked through them right before he brought them to you in Chicago. I also saw his wife . . . Edna. Are they having difficulties?”

He rubbed at his neck as if she’d given him cold chills.

“I’ve frightened you. I’m sorry.” She put her glasses on again. “I don’t need these,” she babbled. “Not at all. I have excellent eyesight. But they hide my eyes a bit. I make people uncomfortable.”

“Yes. You do.”

She winced, and he swore.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, Dani. I am trying.”

“Yes. I know you are. But I will make sure to wear my glasses around you if it makes you feel better.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m not talking about the color of your eyes.” He removed her glasses once more and glowered at her. “The problem is, there is no pretense between us.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” she asked slowly.

“I don’t like it.”

“You want pretense?” she squeaked. It was the exact opposite of what she wanted.

“Some pretense, yes! I am completely exposed. It is like being in a dream where everyone else is clothed and I am standing naked, with nothing but my wits about me.”

“At least you have your wits,” she said, biting her lip against an urge to snicker. Malone did not look like he thought any of this was funny.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“I do not have dreams where I am naked,” she said, frank.

“No? I thought that was fairly common.”

“No. In my nightmares, I’m surrounded by nothing but clothes. Mountains and mountains of clothes, all talking to me. No quiet. No peace. And no one who wants to listen when I speak.”

He sighed, but there was no more exasperation in the sound, and she was encouraged to tell him another truth.

“But you do listen, Michael. You are a marvelous listener. It is my favorite thing about you. And even though it’s hard for you, you believe me.”

“Yeah, well. Belief is not my problem,” he muttered.

She did not want to ask him what his problem was. She was afraid it would crush her.

For a moment they sat in silence, and she screwed up her courage for the next round. “I think I can help you. With your case.”

He waited, his eyes on his feet as if he hadn’t heard her at all.

“The thought must have occurred to you,” she pressed.

“Why would it?”

“That is why you’re here, in Cleveland, isn’t it? You’re trying to find the Butcher, and I have a certain set of skills. Surely you have considered asking for my help.”

“I’m not going to talk about my work.”

“But . . .”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You don’t need it, or you don’t want it?”

“I don’t need it, and I don’t want it,” he shot back, irritable. “We’re not talking about this.”

Dani wanted to slap him. She was not going to be dismissed, and they were going to talk about this. Right. Now.

“I bother you,” she said.

“Yeah. You do,” he muttered, and she tried not to flinch. “You bother me a great deal.”

“Is that why you don’t want my help?”

He didn’t answer but lowered his hands and regarded her with his hound dog eyes.

“I am odd,” she said stiffly. “I know that. I make you uncomfortable. But . . . you are quite odd yourself.”

“I am?” He sounded surprised. Then he laughed, making her legs turn to liquid and her heart bounce in her chest, but she didn’t take it back.

“Yes. You are. You are extremely odd. And I don’t hold it against you.” Her chin shot up in defiance, and she folded her arms, expecting him to argue. He laughed again, soft lips curling over his straight white teeth. He stared down at her as if he expected her to explain, but she didn’t. She just let the accusation hang between them. His smile faded but his eyes still danced, and his next words were gentle.

“You don’t have time to help me. You have more on your shoulders than any woman should have to carry.”

Her folded arms fell to her lap, and she forgave him instantly. She forgave him for his rejection and for his absence, and for not wanting her company the way she wanted his.

“It wouldn’t take too much time. If you could get me some of the items you wrote in your notepad, things that were found at the scenes, maybe I could help you learn the victims’ names.”

“You looked at my lists.” Voice flat.

“Yes.”

“That was not an innocent transfer of information. That was not something you couldn’t help.”

“No. It wasn’t. But you have to remember that I was afraid you were in trouble.”

“And what would you have done if I was, huh?” He shook his head like she was hopeless.

“I would have come looking, can’t you see that by now? I would have done my best for you.”

He looked taken aback and his throat worked up and down as he stared at her. She felt like crying for the umpteenth time in the last week. She looked away and steadied herself, pulling her knees further into her chest and looping her arms around them. His legs were spread wide, his oxfords planted on the ground, his hands clasped between his knees, and they both fell into silence once more, and although neither of them moved closer, the air between them had warmed.