She’d spent most of the morning searching through the clutter for Roderick’s journals, and still hadn’t found them. Every day that went by without them was a day closer to having to return home empty-handed, the whole trip a waste of time and money. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t really eaten today. Unless she counted a cup of the world’s worst instant coffee--which she didn’t. She went downstairs to the kitchen, passing the study on her way. The sharp, rhythmless clack of fingers on a computer keyboard seeped through the closed door. Relief drew some of the tension from her shoulders. Caid was back and busy at work. She’d have a little more time to figure out what she was going say to him. Miraculously, she’d managed to avoid him for most of the morning. He’d been gone when she woke, leaving her a brief note in the kitchen that he’d driven to the village for groceries. Just thinking about last night’s performance made her face hot.
