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She laid a hand on his arm. “There’s only one problem.”
* * *
“I have to go, Mitch.” Cath swirled the scrub brush inside a saucepan. “Paul needs to be arrested.”
“Definitely.” He tucked a steam-dampened tendril behind her ear before grabbing a dish towel. “Otherwise you’ll never feel safe enough to lead another ghost tour. But you’re exposing yourself unnecessarily.”
“You’re entitled to your own opinions, but let me have mine.” She raised her brows and rinsed the pan. “We don’t want to be looking over our shoulders when we go to meet Les tomorrow.”
“There is that.” Mitch took the pot from her. “But I don’t like you being involved.”
“I’ve been involved from the minute my apartment was trashed.” She dunked the gumbo pot in the wash water. “Paul will drive by without stopping if he doesn’t see me. When he stops, I can duck into the church.”
Kurt had suggested the school they’d all attended as kids. The sanctuary of the associated parish church would be open on Mardi Gras day—he’d confirmed—and the building’s front steps led down to a broad open space and the sidewalk.
“You’re still taking a big risk.” Mitch wiped the container and opened a cabinet. “There’s always the possibility we’re wrong about who has your brother’s phone.”
“Everything worth obtaining involves risk. Being around you”—she drained the water from both sinks—“has been scary, but you’ve taught me to take chances when the reward will be worthwhile. In this case, getting Paul behind bars.”
Mitch threaded his towel through the oven handle. “You still think of him as Paul?”
“I better.” She stripped off her vinyl gloves. “I’ve never used his last name to his face. He might suspect I’m on to him.”
He studied her face but could not tell what she felt. Ask her and get this over with. “Do you still have feelings for him?”
She gaped at him and shook her head. “I’m not even going to answer that.”
“That’s a ‘no’?”
“Of course it’s a ‘no.’”
A strange lightness lifted him. Could be lack of sleep, but he’d endured that many times while on Ranger missions. He couldn’t describe this, but his gut seemed to be smiling. Mitch wound his arms around her waist. “Do you have feelings for anyone?”
She ran a finger down his chest. “You know I do.”
He pulled back. Had he missed the signs somehow? “What exactly are you saying?”
“I’ll give you a hint. His first name starts with the letter that comes after L and before N.”
Mitch brushed his mouth across hers and returned to nibble her lower lip. His blood pounded. As soon as she increased the pressure of the kiss, he dove into her sweet heat like a drowning man, falling deeper and—
Tiny claws clutched his calf. They climbed to his thigh. Mitch let go to scoop the kitten off before she got any higher.
Cath took Tiger and slanted a mysterious smile at him. “Are you happy now? Or do you have any more questions?”
He touched her cheek. What did he have to lose? “What did that under-the-table bump mean?”
Her fingers paused between Tiger’s ears. She pursed her mouth as if trying to recall their secret communication and shrugged. “It was like a fist bump. We’re teammates.”
For how long? “At least until we find your brother?”
“Right.” She set Tiger down and hung her apron on the pantry hook.
Why didn’t she contradict him? Did she plan to walk away without a backward glance? Mitch rubbed his temple, his body as empty as a canteen at the end of the day.
With her fool plan to help catch DiMartino, he could lose her anyway. Anything could happen tomorrow.
Chapter 21