Chapter 8

Vivian Kensington reminded Calleigh far too much of her own mother, and she didn't blame Speed for his instant dislike of the art collector. Regardless, he needed to work on his bedside manner, which she told him in the Hummer on the way back to HQ after their visit with the woman.

He grumbled something indistinct about "Cotillion" and "living hell," and Calleigh couldn't help the small grin from spreading on her face as she drove, not that she would give Speed the satisfaction of seeing it. He wasn't far off the mark, as she knew from her middle school days.

They returned to the Lab, Speed headed to see Delko to process the cross, and Calleigh to run the info Mrs. Kensington provided them about the artifact's seller.

Half an hour later, she had a name in hand and knew it was time to track down Eric herself. She hadn't seen him since their shared moment in the locker room or her subsequent personal revelation, and her nerves were in a bundle.

"Hey, found out who sold the cross," she called to him in greeting, ignoring how good he looked in the low light of the table's work lamp.

"That's great, what's the name?" Eric asked.

Calleigh shook her head. "There was no name, it's just a company. The check was made out to Lost Penelope Salvage."

She saw a light instantly flicker behind Eric's eyes.

His brow furrowed, and a look of concern overtook his features. "Penelope?" he questioned.

"You recognize it?"

Eric had connections in the salvaging world from his past life, Calleigh knew, but somehow she was still surprised at how quickly this seemed to ring a bell with him.

"Yeah," Eric said slowly. "Yeah, I do."

He set the Cross of Santiago aside carefully, along with his tools, and discarded his left glove, then his right, before he tossed them to the table and sat on his stool.

"Eric, what is it?" Calleigh didn't like the look on his face, or the sudden slump to his shoulders. She watched as he closed his eyes and rubbed his temple.

"Christine."

Whoever Christine was, Calleigh instantly hated her, for a myriad of reasons, most of which Calleigh refused to acknowledge existed. Mostly, she hated to see Eric upset.

She took a small step forward and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Who is she?" Calleigh asked softly, not wanting to know the answer.

The hesitancy in Cal's voice broke Eric from his moment of sadness, and had him searching out her eyes with his own.

"A friend. Well, I thought she was," he sighed.

He reached for Calleigh's hand resting on his shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze before he released his grasp.

"Eric, if you know this woman…" Calleigh began to say.

Eric's eyes snapped to his partner's. "It's not like that, Cal," he said with a shake of his head. "There's no conflict of interest. She's a salvager. And, like I said, I thought she was a friend."

Calleigh accepted his word as truth, and any jealousy that had started to creep into the pit of her stomach dissipated.

"I'm so sorry, Eric, but we have to bring her in."

He sighed. "I know. Give me a minute?"

Calleigh tightened her hold on Eric's shoulder for a moment. "Sure. Or…" she swallowed against her nerves, "I can stay if you want to talk about it."

Eric grinned at her. "It's okay, really, Cal. I just need to think about how I'm going to handle this. I'll find you later?"

He reached up one more time to squeeze her fingers and reassure her that he wasn't entirely rebuffing her offer, but he did need some time alone to think. Calleigh didn't respond, and when he spied the uncharacteristic lack of confidence in her gaze, he laced his fingers with hers and tugged her hand down from its perch on his shoulder to gingerly wrap it between both of his palms.

"Calleigh, I promise. I'm fine. I'll call you when it's done."

Calleigh could care less about what happened to the suspect at that moment. She simply reveled in the momentary feel of her hand in Eric's. She knew then—she was a goner. She was a goner, and she needed to take a step back before she did something stupid.

But it was too late.

Her free hand reached up to ghost a touch along Eric's jaw with her thumb and fingertips. Their eyes were still locked, so she didn't see him gasp slightly, but she heard it, and she saw his eyes instantly darken.

She couldn't do this. They couldn't. She knew this, and despite everything in her wanting to press her lips to Eric's right now, she leaned in, instead, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Calleigh retreated but didn't drop her fingers from Eric's jaw quite yet. "I know you don't need me, but I'll go with you, if you want."

She watched as Eric's eyes turned jet black now. He ventured his hand up to hers where her thumb now brushed a supportive touch against his cheek, and he shifted it toward his lips for a grateful kiss to the inside of her wrist.

"I always need you, Cal," he said in a low voice tinged by a genuine grin.

Calleigh silently thanked the stars for the way he eased the tense moment. His words carried weight, but his tone was flirtatious and light, just as it usually was with her.

They gazed at each other for a few more heartbeats before Calleigh cleared her throat and took a miniscule step back. She needed the space to think and regroup. Really think.

"You know where to find me," she said with a crooked smile she didn't quite feel in her heart.

As she turned to walk away, she felt Eric's eyes on her all the way down the hallway, until she rounded a corner and stopped in her tracks.

She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.

Oh, boy…