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They found a spot to drop anchor and then broke out a basic late lunch of cheese and bread. They kissed and chatted and were free in a way Delaney hadn’t been—save for the night before—in a long time.
She liked this, liked Roan. Liked who she waswithhim.
“When are you leaving?” Delaney asked, hardly knowing what she wanted him to answer. She shouldn’t want him to stay, but ...
“I don’t know, a few days? You could come with me,” Roan suggested in a rush. “We could go find some views to see and some oceans to sail.” He paused. “Either off the peninsula or anywhere. I’m not picky.”
“A rolling stone, huh?” Delaney teased. “I can’t leave for a bit, though. Maybe on your way back.”
“What’s keeping you here?”
Delaney decided to be honest. Maybe she would regret it, but for once she didn’t want to play a game.
“My sister died,” Delaney said. “She lived here.”
“Oh,” Roan said. He pushed the sunglasses up into his hair. “Are you sad about it?”
That was a loaded question. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with that,” Roan said. “Alone?”
“Yes,” Delaney confirmed. She didn’t want to think about Raisa right now, didn’t want to bring her sister into this moment. But for one second, she imagined what it would have been like to experience this all with her. From the normal—making funeral arrangements.To the abnormal that would only happen in their family—hunting down a killer.
“Do you need any help?” Roan asked.
Delaney thought about Isabel’s notes, the games. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You just gotta ask, Delaney Moore,” Roan said.
Delaney kept smiling through the realization that she’d never told him her last name.
Chapter Twenty-One
Raisa
Day Three
Raisa’s hotel door was cracked open.
She stuttered to a stop midstep and made quick work of her holster, the gun a welcome weight in her palm.
On the way up the stairs, she’d been lost in thought. All she’d meant to do was grab her laptop on her way to the prison to check the visitor logs, so she’d been moving on autopilot.
Now everything snapped into sharp focus.
Isabel wanted you in Gig Harbor.
Raisa positioned her body to the side, so she wouldn’t be an easy target, and then she nudged the door fully open.
Raisa didn’t announce herself, simply waited a beat and then stepped into the room.
No one rushed by her. No one shot at her.
No one stepped out from behind the door and tried to smash a lamp over her head.
Objectively, she took in the mess but didn’t let herself linger on it.
Instead, she cleared the room, her eyes finding each corner as her heart beat a quick but steady pace against her rib cage.