CHAPTER 45
Tana could smell the coffee brewing as she awakened, slipping out of a dream she could barely remember. She loved the smell of coffee first thing in the morning and liked it even better when she didn’t have to make it. She took a moment to let the aroma fill her nostrils, then looked over at Powell, who was in the kitchen pouring two mugs of coffee. He was wearing olive drab cargo pants and a black T-shirt, which, together with his buzz cut and his tattoos, made him look like a soldier on leave. Tana had no idea whether Powell had ever been in the Army, but he had been a cop, which was close enough.
“Smells good,” she said.
Powell looked over at her and smiled. “I guess that means you want a cup.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Tana threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, then joined
