She looked at Joe, who was sitting just close enough to where their shoulders were touching on the narrow staircase. She really didn’t know anything about him. Only that he’d agreed to come with her, and that her heart kept telling her to trust him. But was his presence going to be enough to keep her safe? Thomas had been a cop, and it hadn’t saved him. Nor had it stopped him from betraying her.
But Joe wasn’t Thomas. And it wasn’t fair for her to make that comparison.
“I just feel as if it’s happening all over again,” she said, breaking the silence between them. “The days after Thomas’s death were like a nightmare. Not only did I have to deal with questions from our friends about what had happened, but the police believed that I knew about what he had been doing. That I had somehow been in on it. After he was killed they brought me in to an interrogation room, read me my rights and made me sit for hours of questioning.”
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