Fatal Secrets. Barbara Phinney

could use against a person.

      Patience, he told himself. She’s not as cynical as you are. She probably hadn’t seen her father try to strangle her mother.

      “I’ve got to teach you how to dress,” he muttered as she climbed in his car again.

      “I beg your pardon!”

      He had to smile at her shocked but polite words. She had excellent diction, though her accent was definitely northwestern. “I mean that you need to choose clothes that can’t be used as weapons.”

      She looked down at herself. “Like what?”

      “Your scarf. If someone is after you, then you must not give them anything they can use against you.” He paused, then added, “And you need to not act so…” He fought for the right words, then knowing they’d never come, he said, “regally.”

      She tightened her jaw. “I’m not a princess.” She eased off on the outraged expression, looking more hurt than anything else. “My adoptive mother, Anna, was an English teacher, born of British parents. My father was a lawyer here in town and, before that, in Billings. He was good at his job. Projecting an air of confidence was important to him.”

      “Your mother was a teacher?”

      Looking sad, she said, “Well, yes, until I was—came along. She retired to stay home with me. She loved being a mother.”

      He softened. He knew he’d hurt her, but she needed to hear what he’d said for her own safety. And suddenly, her safety meant a lot to him. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I don’t want you hurt, that’s all.”

      Kristin seemed to be considering his warning. “I’ll try to do better. And you’re right. When I first started at the university, I attended a seminar on campus safety. I think they did mention scarves and long ponytails being things that an attacker could grab. I’m sorry. I just didn’t figure I would ever be a target for someone.”

      “Which means we need to figure out why, not to mention how you’ve become a target.” He threw her a sidelong glance.

      “Of course.” She looked uncomfortable as she peeled off the scarf, pausing a moment as if she wanted to say more. “So, are we going to take your samples to the lab?”

      “Yes. I want to catch them before they close for lunch.” He started his car, and within minutes, they had returned to the center of Westbrook. He knew the lab, having used it a few times since he moved here. And maybe with Kristin’s connections, they’d get some answers quickly.

      Because he had a nagging feeling that they’d need those answers soon.

      As they entered the lab, Maggie, Kristin’s chem partner approached with a broad smile and Kristin found herself answering with her own smile. Zane briefly told Maggie what he needed to have done. She nodded as he passed her the sample he’d taken from his car.

      Maggie studied the smear Zane handed her. “I don’t think you’ll get any fingerprints, but we’ll see what this stuff is. I can test it for human DNA, too, but it’ll have to go out to the lab in Helena for a full analysis. That could take three weeks or more, depending on how much you’re willing to pay.” She brightened. “In the meantime, we should have the results on what this is in a couple of days.”

      “That’s fine.” Once the paperwork was completed, Zane turned toward the door.

      Immediately, Maggie flashed a brilliant smile and a thumbs-up for approval. Kristin felt herself blanch. Was Maggie thinking that Zane was a boyfriend and she was merely following him around today for lack of anything better to do?

      Zane turned back and peered at Maggie, who dropped the smile like the cheeky girl she was. With a frown, he said goodbye and held the door for Kristin.

      Outside, Kristin trotted down the short flight of stone steps toward the parking lot, glad to be away from the embarrassing situation in the lab. Zane, a boyfriend? Sure, he was handsome, with some kind of indefinable strength, but still…

      But still what? Suddenly, she felt as if she had no argument against Zane. Quite the opposite, really.

      Kristin felt herself redden further. The brick buildings around them had cut the wind considerably, and she was glad she didn’t have to smooth her hair constantly in order to hide her scar. She didn’t need to add that to her embarrassment.

      At the bottom step, her scalp near her scar tingling, Kristin stopped, remembering words from the note her birth mother had written Jackson.

      Kristin almost died because of the path I’ve needed to take.

      Years ago, her adoptive parents had told her that the scar was something she’d been born with. And to forget about it.

      Like a dutiful daughter, she’d dropped the questions. She had her answer, now, from Jackson, and it was as shocking as finding out she’d been adopted out of state, not born here as her other birth certificate claimed.

      She really had come close to dying and today the truth was sinking in even more deeply.

      But it being a frightful souvenir and not a birth defect she’d always tried to hide still didn’t make her want it exposed, and certainly not to Zane. He was altogether too perceptive and with all that had happened, she felt exposed enough.

      Zane took her arm and hurried her to his car. “That’s all we can do for now.”

      She set aside her turbulent thoughts. “Does this mean you’ll take my case?” Honestly, she was beginning to hate that mantra, but couldn’t help ask again.

      He paused. “I’ve been considering taking the summer off, but—” A short ring rippled through the air. Zane pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. “Just a second. It’s a text from a friend.”

      Stepping away from her, he stared at the small screen. His mouth fell open and his shoulders drooped. As she watched, the air around them felt as if it dropped in temperature.

      Bad news.

      Punching out numbers, Zane stepped farther from Kristen. She folded her arms against the sudden chill, staring at his back as he listened intently to the person on the other end. When he finally hung up, he turned. His jaw looked tight enough to snap.

      Oh, yes, something was definitely wrong. She hurried over to him. “What’s the matter?”

      “Nothing. Let’s go. I’d like to talk to the waiter at the café again.”

      She struggled to keep up with his long stride. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Is it about me?”

      “No, it’s not about you at all.” He unlocked his car and held the door open for her. “Just get in.”

      Biting her lip, she obeyed. When Zane sat down behind the wheel, she touched his arm. “If it’s not about me, then, is there anything I can do?”

      “No. Just a lead in another case I’d been following. It’s a dead end, that’s all.”

      “I’m sorry. Is it about your brother? Maybe I can help you. I’ve lived here all my life. Well, almost all my life, so I know a lot of people. My father had a thriving law practice here, and Mom knew everyone.”

      His eyes widened. Though the bad news had marred the blue of his eyes like soft cirrus clouds wash out a clear sky, she could see shock easily in them. “You’re not going to dig into your father’s private files, are you?”

      She shook her head. “Oh, no! His files went to his law partner. I’d never do that! I was just thinking if you were looking for someone, maybe I could help. Do you think he was a local?”

      “I’d been hoping he was local. But I was wrong.”

      “Who? I might know the name.”

      Zane’s mouth thinned. “I only know his last name is Kendall.” He spelled it.

      She