“What does it matter?”
“It matters because you’re going into his house today. It’s where your best friend took his life.”
“You don’t have to keep saying that,” she said between bites of sandwich.
“I think I do. It’s been months, Darci, but you still don’t believe he killed himself, do you?”
Darci stopped eating. She drank some water and wiped her mouth. Steed wouldn’t like her answer, but she knew it wouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. “No,” she said. “This is not about you or how you handled the case. It’s me. This is my problem.”
“Your problems are my problems. Have you thought about counseling?”
“Counseling? You back to thinking I’m crazy?”
“You know better than that.” Steed closed his hands around hers. “I don’t think you’re crazy at all, just grief-stricken. You’re functioning in your daily life, but you won’t put this in its proper place, and you need to do that.”
“I know you’re worried about me, but there’s no need. Yes, I’m having a little trouble getting this to sink in. In my head, I accept what you said about Kenny as true, but my heart is still playing catch-up. In time, my head and heart will find a happy medium.”
“I didn’t mean to sound pushy.” Steed opened his bottle of water and downed half. “I know it takes a while to deal with losing someone you love.” He pulled a cluster of pickle chips from the sandwich and popped one in his mouth.
“Your father?”
He nodded.
“Tell me more about him,” she said.
“What do you want to know?” Steed ate more of the pickles.
“I don’t know. Was he a pickle and cucumber fiend, too?”
Steed laughed. “Yes,” he answered with a nod. “Dad was my hero. A good man, and a great cop. I still miss him.”
“You said he was killed in the line of duty.”
“A domestic call gone wrong. He was my age when he died.” He grunted. “I actually thought thirty-six was old back then.”
Sadness crept into Steed’s eyes, glazing his blue orbs with unshed tears. Darci’s heart broke for him. After almost twenty-five years, it was still hard for him to talk about his father and how his father died. She took Steed’s hand. “Let’s talk about something else,” she said. “What are your Thanksgiving plans?”
“I was planning to spend it with you,” he said, polishing up the last of his sandwich, and wiping his mouth.
“You were?”
“Why do you sound surprised?”
“Because you didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t want to share Thanksgiving with me?”
“Steed, I want to share everything with you.”
A wolfish grin brightened his face. “Everything?” he said, rising from his chair.
“Everything.” She leaned over the desk, meeting his lips in a deep, full kiss.
Steed’s tongue invaded her mouth, taking possession of hers. She leaned further over the desk as he clasped one side of her face, keeping their mouths together. Deep moans rumbled in her throat as Steed’s drugging cologne and sensual kiss transported her to a fog-filled land of need, want, and longing.
Just as she felt herself succumbing to the aura of this new and enjoyable place, Steed broke away. “I’m sorry,” he said, licking his slightly swollen, red-stained lips.
“For kissing me?” Darci moved around the desk and curled her arms around his neck. “I like when you kiss me. I especially liked that one.” She brushed her lips against his.
He groaned softly and backed away. “Darci…”
“What’s wrong?”
“I shouldn’t be kissing you like that.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
Darci frowned. This was what she got for telling him she was a virgin. “Steed, you never have to apologize for kissing me. We’re in a relationship and already agreed that nothing will happen we both don’t want to happen. I don’t want you handling me with kid gloves because you know I’m a virgin. I’m the same woman I was before you found that out last week.”
“Not exactly.” Steed smiled. “But I understand,” he said with a kiss. “I promise to never apologize for kissing you, but I do think now is a good time to leave. We need to get to Warwick’s, and there are a few things I need to take care of when I get back here.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
Darci returned to her chair. Second thoughts made her feet feel like cement blocks. “Maybe we should do this another time,” she said, cleaning up from their lunch.
“You can’t keep running from this.”
“I’m not running.”
“No?” He sat on the edge the desk and took her hand. “What are you doing?”
“I’m giving you time to work on this case that’s got you so tied up.” She dropped the gathered items in the nearby waste can. “You said you have things to take care of, and I can see you’re pretty busy. Going to Kenny’s can wait.”
“You sure you want to do that? Weren’t you going to find something for his sister?”
“A ring.”
“If you don’t get this ring for her soon, she’s going to be calling you and riding you until you do. I know she’s not one of your favorite people.”
Darci groaned. “That woman makes me crazy.”
“You said she has a history of substance abuse. And if she’s using again and needs this ring to get a fix, she won’t leave you alone. It might be in your best interest to do this now. And not just to get Eva off your back. I think you need to do this for you.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”
“Thank you, Steed.” She kissed his hand. “I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”
“Yeah, you would, but you won’t have to. And that goes for everything you do.” He helped her out of the chair and handed over her purse. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 13
Steed blew against his clasped hands and shifted from one foot to the next in the fifty-degree weather, waiting for Darci to get the nerve to leave Warwick’s porch and walk into the house. She pressed her hand against the door. Unshed tears pooled her eyes. Steed wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know,” Darci answered. “Inside is…” She stepped away from the door. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Hey.” Following behind, Steed squeezed her shoulders and kissed the back of her head. Her tense muscles relaxed. “Listen to me. I know this is hard, but you need to do this. You need to face your demons.”
Darci turned around. Her frown surprised him. “Face my demons?” She pushed away the wisps of dark hair the wind thrashed against her face. “That’s coming from you? Steed, your father has been dead over two decades and you still have a hard time talking about him.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes, it’s different, because it’s you. It’s your pain. This is my pain,” she said, patting her hand to her chest.
“And you’ll always have your pain if you keep avoiding this.” He held out his hand, refusing to turn the conversation on to his shortcomings. “Let me have the key.”
Darci slid her hand into the pocket of her mini leather jacket and pressed a single key into his open palm.
“It’s going to be okay.” Steed opened the door and stepped aside. “Come on in.”
Darci released a breath and stepped over the threshold. Her gaze darted about the room. “Oh, my.” Smiling, she approached the fireplace mantle and pressed a silver-framed picture to her chest.
Steed joined her. “What is that?” he asked.
She showed him the picture. “Kenny’s twenty-fifth birthday. He did everything big, and this party was no exception.”
Steed couldn’t argue with those words. He looked about the expansive house. Cathedral ceilings and hardwood floors ensconced in two stories of a 3,000-square-f
oot house. It was impressive. Like a weekend cabin compared to the mansion his mother and stepfather lived in, but very nice all the same.
“It seems Warwick liked to go all-out. I guess when you win millions in the lotto you can do that.”
“Kenny could be a bit frivolous at times, but he was generous with his money, and he was extremely smart when it came to investing. As charitable as he was, he wasn’t foolish, which is why he only told me about winning the lottery. He wasn’t about to paint a target on…a target on his back.”
Sensing Darci steps away from slipping into “Kenny was murdered” mode, Steed redirected the tone of the conversation. “So, Warwick kept working after winning millions?”
She nodded. “After taxes, he had about half the winnings, but Kenny loved his work, and more money meant more investing. Besides, he enjoyed the adulation of the scores of women who threw themselves at him for being the hot guy on the news.”
Steed listened to her talk and wondered how she and Warwick could have been so close. A womanizer and a virgin. “I can’t believe you and he were best friends. Two people couldn’t be more different.”
“Kenny and I weren’t that different, at least not fundamentally. We both loved our families, reporting the news, and each other. We understood each other and didn’t judge. I guess on the outside looking in, the two of us would make an unlikely pair of best friends, but it worked. I was the yin to his yang. There was nothing I couldn’t tell him, and he me. That’s why this…I’m sorry, Steed, but this just doesn’t make sense. He wouldn’t have killed himself.”
Steed pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. How much longer would this go on? “Darci, you said you were going to let this go.”
“I tried. I am trying, but I’m not there yet.” She walked over to the couch. “This is where it happened?”
Steed nodded. The overstuffed leather couch looked as good as new. “Yes, right here,” he said, touching the center of the sofa.
“Kenny’s couch. You should have heard how he talked about this couch. Handcrafted with the finest Italian leather.” She shook her head. “There’s so much wrong with this.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“And what is that?”
“You’re looking for any and everything you can to make this suicide some murder conspiracy.”
Darci shook her head. Defiance burned in her eyes like an eternal flame, strong, intense, and unwavering, but he was feeling just as strong. “No,” she said defensively.
“Yes.” Steed cupped her face, forcing their eyes to meet. “Darci, you have to listen to me. There is no conspiracy. You can cook up as many theories as you want, but it won’t change the facts. Warwick killed himself, and you may never know why.” Steed sighed. “Darci, you always ask about my father.”
She folded her arms across her chest and met him with a pointed stare. “Yes, and you never say much.”
“Well, I want to say more now.” Steed drew a deep breath and sat. He’d never talked openly to anyone about his father’s death. It was too painful for him. But his love for Darci and his need to help demanded he talk to her. “Dad had what he called intuition, his gut feeling about people. In the months before he was killed, he’d mentioned this couple who owned a little store that were always at each other’s throats about their son. Dad often talked about going in to buy a pop and having to break up a verbal battle. Even with the arguing he saw, Dad had insisted the pair loved each other and they weren’t the least bit violent, just a little excitable.”
“Excitable?” Darci joined him and took his hand in hers. The warmth of her touch had the most amazing effect on him, and for the first time while thinking of his dad’s death, Steed didn’t feel like he was about to cry.
Steed chuckled. “Yeah, that was Dad.”
“What happened with your father and the couple?”
“On a particularly hot afternoon, with Uncle Pete waiting out in the cruiser, Dad walked into the store to buy some ice cream. The couple was arguing again, but this time the man had a gun. Dad ended the argument, but he also ended up dead.”
“What happened to the man?”
“He died from a brain aneurism about a year into his prison sentence. He was charged with involuntary manslaughter. It was called an accidental shooting, but it didn’t change anything for me. My last memory of my father is of his perfect instinct getting him killed. I never thought that could happen. My Dad couldn’t be that wrong about someone. But he was. And it left me without him. I still miss him.” He grunted. “Mom moved on.”
“Uh-huh. That explains your resentment of your stepfather.”
“I’m not…”
“Yes, Steed, you are. You rarely say his name. You mostly call him your mother’s husband.”
“That’s what he is.”
“You’re too hard on him. You admit he’s a good man.”
“His being a good man is one thing, his trying to be my father is something altogether different.”
“But you were close to your father’s partner, Pete Mulhaney, a man you call uncle. You still swear by the man.”
“Pete was a cop, and he was there for me. He didn’t try to take Dad’s place. He helped me grow up to be a good man and a good cop.” Steed expelled a sharp breath. “Wait a second, this is not about me.”
“Okay, okay. I just find it puzzling you could love Josh’s mother so much but barely be civil to him. That said, I’m glad you talked about what happened with your father, Steed. It explains a lot. But when all is said and done, it has nothing to do with my situation with Kenny.”
“Ugh!” Steed shot up, pacing. “It has everything to do with it, Darci.”
“No.”
“Yes!” He stopped moving and turned to her. “I wish your gut feelings could make this a lie, but it can’t. That’s what I want you to see.” He resumed pacing. “Sometimes the people we love do things we don’t understand. Warwick is dead because he killed himself, just like my father is dead because he followed some instinct that was wrong. My father trusted a damn instinct and it got him killed.” Steed’s face grew hot. His heart raced and steps quickened. “Gut feelings, instincts, they don’t mean a damn thing! A wrong instinct killed my father, and I’m angry about it. I’m angry at him for dying. I am so angry at him.” Hot tears slid down Steed’s cheeks. He swiped them away, sniffling, but never missed a step. “Instincts don’t mean a thing. Not a damn thing.”
Darci caught his arm when he passed, ending his pacing. She pulled him down beside her. Her fingers twined with his. “Feels good to get things off your chest, huh?” she said.
“I hope I didn’t scare you. I don’t know where that came from.”
“I suspect it came from a twelve-year-old boy you locked away when you lost your father. And you didn’t scare me.” She kissed the back of his hand. “You’ve been carrying this anger around for a lot of years. It was time to let it go.”
“I knew I was angry about Dad dying, the whole situation of why. But, I loved him. I didn’t know I was angry at him.”
“I think maybe subconsciously you did. If your father hadn’t gone into the store, he wouldn’t have met the people. If he hadn’t met them and deduced they were good, he wouldn’t have come back. If he hadn’t come back, he wouldn’t be dead. Is that about right?”
Steed stared at her in amazement. “Pretty close,” he said. “How did you know all that?”
“I heard what you said today and what you hadn’t said before. I’m a reporter and an interviewer. It’s my job to listen, especially when I care so much about the person doing the talking.” Darci’s fingertips combed through the hair at his temple, her touch calming him all the more. “How do you feel?”
“Lighter.” Steed exhaled a deep breath. “I feel lighter.”
“Unloading a lot of anger will do that.”
“I want you to unload your burdens, too, Darci.”
She rolled her eyes. “You just couldn’t have your moment.”
<
br /> “I’m okay, Darci. I’m more okay than I’ve been in a long time, but I’m worried about you. You need to get away from this ‘Kenny wouldn’t kill himself’ thing. It’s unreasonable.”
Darci’s loud, drawn-out sigh broke the lingering silence that followed his words. “I’m going to Kenny’s room to look for this ring.” She left the couch and walked toward the staircase. “Are you coming?”
Steed stood. Maybe he could give talking some sense to her another try upstairs. “Yeah, I’m coming.”
* * *
“I think Eva must have been high when she called me. There’s no ring here.” Darci closed the last of the drawers of Kenny’s cherry wood armoire. “You have any luck?”
“Nope,” Steed answered. “I have one drawer left to check.” He rummaged inside. “Socks, handkerchiefs, a box of cufflinks.” He pulled out an envelope. “This has your name on it.”
“What?” Darci made her way over.
Steed passed her the envelope. “It was tucked in a corner.”
Darci sat at the foot of the bed and examined the front and back of the envelope. “It’s Kenny’s handwriting.” She ripped open the envelope and found a two-page letter. She silently read the words. After reading it once, she read it again.
“What does it say?”
“In a nutshell, it’s negating everything Kenny said in the letter he left with his will.” She dropped the letter on Steed’s lap and walked to the window overlooking the fishpond in back of the manicured grounds. “Something’s not right about it.”
“Seems legit to me.”
“I don’t know.” She returned to the bed and took the letter. “Why is it here?”
“This is where he wrote it.”
“That’s fine, but why didn’t Mr. Clayton have it? C’mon, Steed, you’re the detective here. Help me out.”
“What do you want me to say?”
Darci rolled her eyes. Times like this she really wanted to shake him. “I think Eva planted this letter.”
“You said it’s Warwick’s handwriting.”
“Yes, but she could have forged it. This is about his money. A letter reversing another letter that essentially cut Eva out of his will if she didn’t go to rehab. Way too convenient I’d find it now, don’t you think?”
Not Quite Right (Indigo Love Spectrum) Page 12
