Looking into Peter's eyes was like looking into a deep dry well. Dark. Cold. Empty. "Are you going to kill me, Peter? Like you killed Genie?"
"I didn't do anything to Genie," he said, leaning closer. Raine smelled his sweat. His excitement. She forced herself to stand her ground. "She was a victim of a random crime. These things happen. The city is a dangerous place. For everybody. Even you, Raine, with all your kung fu skills."
"Is that a threat, Peter?"
"Of course not. Just a warning. You need to be careful." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "When you stick your nose into things that aren't your business, bad things can happen."
"I'll keep that in mind, Peter. Now get out of my way."
He stared down at her, unmoving, and anger rushed through her. She took a deep breath, put both hands on his chest and shoved as hard as she could.
He clearly hadn't expected her to be so strong, and he stumbled back into a table against the wall. A large, ornate Lalique crystal vase tumbled to the floor and shattered. Trying to regain his balance, Peter stepped on one of the pieces, stumbled and fell to the floor.
Raine looked over her shoulder at her grandmother. "You need to call one of your maids," she said. "There's garbage on the floor."
Chapter 24
As she headed toward the front door, she heard footsteps behind her. Running. She turned and saw Connor, racing toward her.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Palmed her head in one big hand, holding her against his shoulder. "You okay?" he whispered.
She nodded, afraid that if she spoke she'd start crying.
"You sure?" He eased away from her and studied her face. His gaze was like a caress, sweeping from her cheeks to her eyes and back again. Comforting her. Warming her.
The cold knot of fear and anger began to loosen.
"I'm good," she managed to say. "Let's go."
He held her tightly for a moment, then she felt him turn his head. "You sicken me, Mrs. Talbott. You're supposed to be Raine's family. The only one she has left. And you brought her into your house with the express purpose of allowing a suspected murderer to torment her."
Raine felt the rumble of his voice against her face. She wanted to tell him not to bother, that he wasn't going to change Beatrice Talbott's mind. But a part of her was thrilled he was defending her.
She was a strong, capable woman. But everything inside her softened at Connor's sharp, protective voice.
"You know nothing about my family, Detective." Her grandmother's voice was calm. As if she'd betrayed her only remaining granddaughter without a second thought.
"I know everything I need to know." His voice dripped with scorn. Disgust. "And all of it makes you a despicable human being." He eased Raine away from him. "Let's get out of here, Raine."
As they walked out of the house, the ugly taste of her grandmother's betrayal lingered in her mouth, acrid and bitter. Beatrice knew how she felt about Peter. But she'd still maneuvered Raine into a confrontation with him. Her eyes prickled and tears thickened into a hard lump in her throat.
Connor curled his arm around her shoulders. "She's not worth it," he said softly. "She's not worth one single moment of sadness. One single tear."
"She's my grandmother," she said, swallowing around the pain. "How could she do that to me?"
He slid his hand up and down her side. Calming. Soothing. "You already know the answer to that, babe. From what you've told me, she's never been much of a grandparent. Never been much of anything for you." He tightened his grip on her waist, his fingers strong. Reassuring. "I know it hurts. But only a monster would take in two children who'd just lost their parents and refuse to love them. So don't waste your tears on her. She's chosen a suspected murderer over the only granddaughter she has left. You owe her nothing."
"Why has it taken me so long to understand that?" she asked, her voice thick. After only a handful of minutes with Beatrice, Connor saw her so clearly.
Connor tugged her around to face him, then cupped her face in his hands. They were gentle on her face. Warm. Reassuring. "Don't beat yourself up. You were a grieving child when you came to live with her." He jerked his head toward the big house. "You needed someone to cling to. Of course you hoped it would be your grandmother. The failure is hers, babe. Not yours."
He sounded so sure. Like it was simple. Obvious.
She'd been so cold since that scene in Beatrice's office. She moved closer to Connor, craving his warmth. His arms curled around her and he held her against him. As she clung to him, his warmth began to seep into all the cold places in her heart.
He finally let her go and led her to his car, and she clung to his hand as he opened the door. Let him go reluctantly so he could walk around and get into the driver's seat. As soon as he was in the car, he took her hand again. "Your grandmother isn't worth another second of your time. Forget about her. What did that bastard Northrup say to you?"
She stared past Connor's shoulder at the sunlight that filtered through the oak leaves in front of the car. It was a beautiful day. Sunny. Warm. But the memory of Peter's words chilled her all the way through. It felt as if she'd never be warm again.
"Raine?" Connor's voice was soft. His hand tightened on hers.
"About what you'd expect. 'Stop harassing me. Let Genie's murder go. Be careful, the city is dangerous'."
Connor swore, a long string of vicious, angry words. He swiveled in his seat and took her other hand. "Listen to me, Raine. He's not going to get close to you. He won't hurt you, because I won't let him." His fingers tightened around hers. "We're going to look at those photos and see if your sister was wearing that ring. I'm going to do some digging on Meredith Pullen. We'll nail that bastard's ass to the wall."
She swallowed a tiny smile, shocked that she could suddenly feel so light after the awfulness of the day.
She glanced at Connor, at the sunlight glinting off his black hair, at the softness in his blue eyes as he watched her. It was him. Connor made her feel good. He was good for her. "What happened to not making any assumptions? Not thinking of Peter as guilty until we have proof?"
He let go of her hands and cupped her face, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks. "You're such a smart ass. That's one of the reasons I'm crazy about you."
Her heart stuttered. Crazy about you. Instead of terrifying her, it made her heart warm. Expand, until it felt as if it would burst out of her chest.
"You were right," she said, speaking softly in the stillness of the quiet car. "I can't do this alone. Peter is...he's evil. Scary. And you were right when you said none of my defensive skills will do any good against a knife or a gun."
"Wow. You said I was right." One side of his mouth curled up. "Have to write this down so I have a record of it." He drew her closer and brushed a kiss across her mouth. "You not going to do this alone, Raine. You're stuck with me."
No one had had her back since Genie died. And she hadn't wanted to let a man this close for a very long time.
Could she give up some of her independence, some of her freedom, to make an us out of him and her?
She wasn't sure. But she wanted to try. Before she'd met Connor, the thought would have terrified her. Now? It felt like coming home.
Are you sure he wants the same thing?
Her fingers tightened on the arm rest. He'd stayed last night, after that awful, cold sex. He'd taken her to her grandmother's party. Stood up for her. Stood up to Beatrice Talbott, something that few people ever did.
He'd stayed. No one else had. And it felt good.
Maybe he did want the same thing she did.
"You ready to go?" he asked, startling her. "I'd like to head for the precinct so you can take a look at that picture again. If you're sure you can handle it."
She shoved her questions about her and Connor aside and took a deep breath. "I can handle it." The sooner the better. She needed to see Peter in a cage. "Let's go."
As they drove back toward the Edens Expressway, the car
s in front of them stopped and started. Stopped and started. They caught one red light after another. Connor stayed in the right lane, letting cars zoom past him on the left. Her right foot jiggled and when she found herself drumming her fingers on the arm rest, she curled her fingers into her palms and slid them beneath her thighs.
Connor must have noticed, because he reached across the center console and tugged her hand away from her thigh, then slid his fingers between hers. By the time they reached the expressway, her fingers tapped a restless beat against the back of his hand. Once they were down the ramp and merged into traffic, she blurted, "Can't you go any faster?"
"Going the speed limit," he said, his voice maddeningly calm. He squeezed her hand and said, "Tell me about your grandmother. How long did you live with her?"
She frowned. "What difference does that make now? Or are you just trying to distract me?"
A tiny smile flickered across his face, then he shook his head. "Yeah, I'm trying to distract you. Your fidgeting is making me jumpy. But I do need to know about Beatrice Talbott. It's background information. I need to think like a cop on this, and the more details we get, the better we are at solving murders."
She stared at him, skeptical.
"Look, Raine," he sighed. "It's going to take us thirty-five minutes to get to the station. And you never know what information will help."
He was right. She was going to drive herself crazy if she kept watching the traffic and calculating how long it was taking to get back to the city.
"Do you need to know all the details? Like how Genie and I and our grandmother are related?"
"Yeah. The more detail, the better."
"Right." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Steadied herself. Ignoring the pain that shivered through her, she said, "Um, okay. My biological father was a firefighter who was killed in a fire when I was a baby." She'd seen pictures of him, but it was like looking at a stranger. Dad was Larry Sawyer. "My mother married Genie's father when I was two, and he treated me like his own kid. They died when I was thirteen and Genie was ten." She swallowed. "That's when we went to live with our grandmother. Beatrice is our mother's mother."
Remembering that horrible time, she took a deep, shuddering breath. Her memories were still vivid. The shock. The grief. Their grandmother's cold welcome and remote, icy demeanor. Raine had been cold for five years. She hadn't thawed out until she escaped from her grandmother's house and gone to college.
"She said today that I'm like my mother because she didn't approve of my biological father. He wasn't rich, so he wasn't good enough for Mom."
He let go of her hand and wrapped his palm around her knee, squeezing gently. "After what she did today, I want to believe the worst of her. But maybe there's more to it than that," he said quietly. "When you told her I was a cop, she looked scared. Maybe it was because cops and firefighters have dangerous jobs."
"Beatrice Talbott has never been scared of anything in her life," she scoffed.
"After today, she doesn't get any passes from me. What she did was unforgiveable. But you don't have to give her any power over your life. You don't have to please her. Hell, you don't have to see her again, if you don't want to. You deserve so much more than that miserable excuse for a human being as your family."
Raine leaned her head against the seat and stared at the traffic in front of her. She'd been so needy after her parents died. So desperate to be part of a family again. "You know, all she had to do was tell me she'd been wrong about my father. That's it. Back then, I would have forgiven her." She would have done anything to win Beatrice's love.
"It's not always easy to say you were wrong. To admit you've made a mistake." Traffic slowed to a stop in front of them, and his eyes met hers. She saw regret in their blue depths. "I've screwed up. I'll do it again." His gaze held hers steadily. "I screwed up big time two nights ago. How about you, Raine? Are you perfect? Haven't you ever screwed up something important?"
Suddenly they weren't talking about Beatrice Talbott and Raine's mother.
She bowed her head and studied the pattern on her dress. "Yeah," she said softly. "Maybe I have."
***
There were no windows in the tiny conference room in the police station. Just a small rectangular table with six worn chairs and a handful of photos on the wall. All of them showed uniformed police officers shaking hands with a man in a suit. None of them were Connor.
Raine smoothed her sweaty hands over the bright green, yellow and blue pattern of her sundress as she waited for Connor. She'd chosen the dress because it was cheerful. It made her feel good. And she'd known nothing else about her grandmother's party would do that.
Except for Connor.
Instead of leaving after last night, he'd stayed. He'd taken her to her grandmother's party. Stood up for her.
Yeah, he'd hurt her the day before. But he was right. She'd screwed up, too. And he'd still taken her to the party. Had stood beside her when Peter showed up. Held her hand on the way home.
He was determined to solve Genie's murder. He needed her help. He was retrieving those photographs for her to look at.
Her fingers clenched in the silky material of her dress, wrinkling it. Her stomach had been tied in a knot since they'd walked into the police station.
A wave of nausea swept over her, but she willed it away. She could do this. For Genie.
To help Connor.
The door opened and Connor walked in.
No. Not Connor. The other one. "Quinn, right?"
He grinned. "You can tell us apart."
She frowned. "Of course I can."
Quinn's smile disappeared into an assessing gaze as he slid into a chair across from her. After a long moment, he nodded. "Yeah, I guess you could." He leaned toward her. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine."
His bright blue gaze, intelligent and assessing, so similar to Connor's, was sympathetic. Understanding. "I know this is going to be tough. But Con will make it as easy as possible."
"I know." She rubbed her hands down her thighs again, then put her hands on the table and folded her fingers together. She needed something to hold onto. Connor. She needed to hold his hand while she did this. "Is...is he bringing the pictures?" She pressed her fingers together tightly. "Or are you supposed to do it? Since I've...um, spent time with Connor." Heat spread up her neck to her face, but Quinn didn't seem to notice.
He frowned. "Do you think Con would toss you to the wolves? Not help you look at those pictures, not make it as easy as possible for you?"
"I have no idea." She straightened her back. "I don't know what the rules are."
"He'll be here in a minute. I stopped by because I wanted to make sure you didn't need anything." He studied her, and she wondered if this was some kind of brotherly thing. Checking out the girlfriend. Making sure she was worthy.
She'd done the same thing with Peter. But Genie hadn't wanted to hear about Raine's misgivings.
"Okay." Her eyes stung suddenly, and she looked away from Quinn's too-perceptive gaze. "Some water, please?"
"On it." He shoved the chair back and stood up. "Be right back."
Raine barely had time to get nervous again before Quinn was back with a bottle of cold water. "Thanks," she said as she removed the cap and took a long drink.
Quinn nodded. "From what Con's told me about you, you'll be fine."
"What?" Before she could ask Quinn what Connor had told him, Connor stepped into the room, holding a manila folder. He nodded to his brother, set the folder on the table, then waited until Quinn walked out and shut the door.
He slid into the seat next to her. "You ready for this?"
Chapter 25
Raine shivered as she stared at the plain beige file folder lying between them on the table. So innocuous. Something she used almost every day at school. But it hid horrors she didn't want to think about. In a few moments, she'd have to study those photos. Ignore the bruised and broken body of her sister to look for evidence.
>
She swallowed and fumbled for Connor's hand. "God. How do you do this every day?"
He gripped her hand tightly, as if he knew she needed a lifeline. "It's hard. But if it wasn't, I'd be in the wrong line of work." He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed the soft skin of her wrist. "The difference is, when we study crime scene photos, we're not looking at people we knew and loved. We're looking at strangers. People who need us to find answers for them."
He let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her, drawing her closer to his warmth. "We don't have to do this right now," he murmured. "You've already dealt with a lot today. We can wait a day or two."
"No." She closed her eyes for a moment, allowed herself to burrow into him. The room smelled of strong pine cleaner, and she buried her face in Connor's neck to block it out.
As comfortable as she was, snuggling into Connor wasn't going to help catch Peter. She eased away from him and stared at the manila folder. "It's not going to be any easier tomorrow or the next day. And the sooner I look at the photo, the sooner we can figure out our next step."
His hand drifted down her back. Comforting. Soothing. "There's an alternative," he said carefully.
She frowned. "What would that be?"
"Genie is wearing some rings. You can describe your mother's ring to me, maybe draw me a picture of it, and I can see if it's one Genie is wearing in the photo."
She sucked in a deep breath. He'd lifted a back-breaking weight from her shoulders. "Would that be good enough for a trial? For evidence?"
His hesitation was her answer. "Depends on the other evidence," he finally said. "Maybe."
Raine shook her head. "No. Not good enough. I don't want any loopholes Peter can slither through." She reached for the folder, but Connor put his hand on her arm. "Let me." He jerked his head toward the pictures on the wall. "I need you to look away for a moment. Look at those instead."
Raine heard paper rustling as she studied the photos one by one. "Are you in one of them?"
Trust Me (The Donovan Family Book 4) Page 22
