Jessie’s scream. He ran toward the sound. His office. What he saw floored him. Jessie’s face was buried against J.P.’s chest. Spray paint marred the wall behind Colin’s desk, marred his desk. Spray paint that lewdly warned to mind his own business or else. Mind his business on what? He wasn’t even doing any digging. Just who Brad Pitt was sleeping with and who he should be sleeping with. Somehow or another, Colin doubted Brad was responsible for the wall graffiti. No one should feel threatened by Colin Crandall these days. Not even Senator Thomas as Colin had been after him for so long that the old goat was too cocky to believe he’d be found guilty even if caught at wrongdoing. Jessie spotted him and leapt into his arms. Not that he’d held them out, but they had gone around her. Just to balance her, he assured himself. Nothing to do with how pale she looked, how shaken, how the need to comfort once again flooded.
