Page 75 of Breaking Silence

I look out the window and give both of us a chance to settle. Not an easy task when it comes to Tomasetti. He looks relaxed, but he’s driving too fast. He didn’t like seeing me with Rasmussen. But I know Tomasetti has too much pride to succumb to petty male jealousy. Still, he’s a man, and some things are programmed so deeply, not even intellect or character can totally eradicate them.

I consider waiting him out, but his stony silence is beginning to make me uncomfortable. “How did you know where to find me?”

He glances at me and frowns. “You’re kidding, right?”

Nodding, I look out the window, then sigh. “Are we okay?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

He’s going to make me spell it out. May as well put it on the table, I think. “I wasn’t expecting Rasmussen to show up. He just did.”

“That’s fine. You’re a grown woman, Kate. You’re free to do whatever you want with whomever you want, whenever you want and as often as you like.”

“I’m really glad you pointed that out.” I glance at his profile, notice for the first time the tight set of his jaw. “So why are you pissed?”

“I’m not pissed.”

“Maybe we should talk about it.”

He takes his time responding. “You two looked pretty cozy. I didn’t like it. I’ll get over it. End of story.”

“It was just a friendly game of pool.”

“Did he hit on you?”

I shrug. “He was thinking about it.”

Tomasetti sends me a dark look.

I meet his gaze head-on. “You’re not one of those guys with trust issues, are you?”

“I just don’t like smart-assed cops crossing that line.”

“We haven’t really told anyone we’re … together.”

“Is that what we are?” he asks. “Together?”

“We haven’t talked about exclusivity.” I stammer the words, trying not to screw this up. I sense it’s an important moment. But I’m not much better at talking about my feelings than he is.

“We’re talking about it now.” He makes a turn, and I realize we’re pulling into the parking lot of the Farnam oil-filter factory. “For future reference, I don’t share.”

I nod, trying to appear calm, but inside my heart is pounding. This is as close to a relationship talk as we’ve ever had. “Just don’t go all caveman on me, okay?”

“I’ll try not to.”

“So does this mean we’re, like, going steady?”

He parks illegally at the building’s entrance, puts the Tahoe in park, shuts down the engine, and turns to me. “That means the next time Rasmussen puts his hands on you, you should tell him to fuck off.”

“Since he’s sheriff of this county, I’ll probably try to be a little bit more diplomatic.”

“As long as he gets the message.”

We leave the Tahoe and enter through a door below a sign marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. The factory is huge, has bright lights, and smells like a combination of rubber and paint. A security guard sitting in a booth eyes us through a window as we approach. Leaving the booth, he swaggers toward us. His badge says his name is Tony. He raises his hand like a traffic cop. “You’re going to have to get visitor passes from the office before you can come in here.”

Tomasetti tugs out his ID. “We already have our passes.”

The security guard stares at the badge, and for an instant I think I see longing in his eyes. “That’ll work.” He hikes up his pants. “What can I do for you?”