by Alexa Verde
Besides, she needed some information from Mr. McCoy. She stifled a sting of guilt. As a private investigator, she’d often had to interview victims’ grieving families. While her heart was tearing apart for them, her job had to be done. Her work could help ensure justice.
“I understand.” The compassion she felt for him softened her voice. “I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to uncover who is doing this. May I ask you a few questions, about Ross and Scarlett?”
Not revealing any secrets saying their names to him. From a few things he’d said at the time, Mr. McCoy had also wondered about the man Karli had been so much in love with and hoped to become engaged to soon. Especially when it emerged that Karli had changed her substantial life insurance policy to make Ross the beneficiary.
Sure, Ross had an alibi. But when that alibi was provided by Scarlett, a voluptuous waitress with a penchant for bright makeup and tight clothes, one had to wonder.
As there was no actual forensic evidence linking Ross to the murder, the police hadn’t arrested him. When Ross broke up with Scarlett and genuinely seemed to grieve Karli, Mr. McCoy hadn’t fired his daughter’s cheating boyfriend from his insurance company.
But Mirabella hadn’t ever removed him from her list of suspects. He and Scarlett had the strongest motives for a copycat killing.
Mr. McCoy shrugged. “I believe he’s back with Scarlett, but I really don’t know. He resigned from my company a while ago, and I have no reason or wish to see him.”
She hesitated over her next question. It would surely be upsetting for the older man. “And have any of Cantorini’s relatives attempted to contact you or any of the other victims’ families? Either to apologize, or to threaten? I’m sorry, but I have to ask.”
His almost-white brows pulled together, and he loosed a heavy sigh. “I know he had parents and a sister as well as a girlfriend in Austin. I recall seeing that in the news, when they denied the reports linking him to the killings. None of them have approached me, or anyone else that I know about.”
“Thank you. I promise I’ll investigate them thoroughly. I don’t intend to stop until I find out who is responsible. I’ll try to talk to the sister tomorrow.”
Mr. McCoy nodded, but changed the subject. Knowing how painful this must be for him, she wouldn’t press him with more questions.
For a few minutes, he and Colt chatted about mutual acquaintances, their charities, and Austin life. The older man brightened somewhat. “Oh, and, Colt, my charity just received a large donation from one of your associates, too. Mr. Marlowe.”
Colt and Mirabella exchanged glances but said nothing.
Seeing Mr. McCoy rub his forehead and realizing he was ready for them to leave, itching to get out of this place with all its reminders of grief, Mirabella rose. “Thank you for seeing us.”
Colt followed suit. “Archie, remember what we said. We meant it.”
Mr. McCoy dragged his feet against the white tile as he walked them to the door. “So, you two are back together. I didn’t expect to see you both today.”
Surprised by his words, Mirabella forced her dropped jaw to tighten.
They weren’t back together. Far from having resolved all their issues. And she wasn’t sure they ever would.
Chapter Ten
Mirabella rushed to answer first, just in case Colt agreed with the older man. “We’re not back together as a couple, Mr. McCoy. We need to spend time together, for the children’s sake. And of course, Colt was happy to take the opportunity to see you again.”
Seeming satisfied, he nodded and extended his hand for her to shake.
Mere seconds later, the SUV pulled up at the curb. As they said their goodbyes to Mr. McCoy and hurried toward it, gratitude for Colt’s support with Karli’s father warmed her heart. Her hand moved toward his without her thinking about it but stilled as soon as she realized.
They needed to go their separate ways. The sooner the better.
She squared her shoulders when they were close to the SUV, Jackson already opening the door for her. “It’s okay. I can take a taxi back to my apartment from here.”
“Right. Just wait for the taxi here. You’ll be out in the open, like a sitting duck. No offense.” Colt gestured toward the SUV. “Save me time worrying and let me give you a lift.”
“Okay, a standing duck in this case, but I see your point.” No point arguing this one. Shrugging, she climbed inside the vehicle and claimed one of the luxurious leather seats in Corbin’s favorite chocolate color.
As the vehicle glided down the quiet street, Colt’s blue gaze darkened. “Mirabella, I know you want to go back to your apartment tonight, but it bothers me that whoever sent the daisies knows where you live.”
To be honest, it bothered her, too. “I’ve been a little careless since coming back. I assumed the Daisy Killer was dead, so there wasn’t any danger. Any half-decent investigator could have found my address.” She loosed a long breath. “I’ll need to move and cover my tracks better this time.”
“Please stay at my ranch tonight, rather than your apartment.”
No, not wise, though she could hardly tell him the main reason. She remembered far too well when they’d shared a bedroom there. Sure, it was a newly built house, not the one she’d lived in during their marriage. But he’d done such a good job recreating the home they’d shared, memories of past intimacy filled every room.
For a while there, before and after lunch, she’d forgotten all that had gone wrong. Rolled back the years to before Karli died and the Daisy Killer threatened the twins.
But it had all gone wrong, and now it seemed the Daisy Killer or a copycat threatened once more. And, this time, Colt knew and obviously was trying to protect her.
“Don’t forget, whoever sent the daisies knows where you live, too.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” His forehead furrowed. “Does that help identify who is behind the daisies? Someone who knows both your address and mine.”
She shook her head. “Nice try, but no. Any half-decent investigator could find your address, too. Your place is no safer than mine.”
“Really?” One brow rose. “My place has a high fence, cameras everywhere, and a good security system. The most they can access is the mailbox, set into the fence. The daisies at your apartment were inside the building, right?”
“Yes, but—”
He raised a hand to stop the objection rising to her lips, almost but not quite touching them. The objection she didn’t really have but hoped she’d think up midsentence.
“At least consider it, until you find somewhere else.”
He reached to touch her hand again, and she melted.
How easy it would be to give in to this attraction, the allure he held for her. To lean into him, to accept his help, to even believe they had a future together. But doing that would just hurt him in the long run. She had to stay strong.
Her hand jerked back, away from his. “You contacted the police about the threats I received, right?”
“Yes. I have a good relationship with the officers, and I’d like to keep it that way. Brett also put out feelers through his network. A lot of people are keeping their ears to the ground right now.”
As Brett had an extensive network of people working for him or with him, that “lot of people” possibly numbered in the hundreds. As much as she didn’t like the invasion of her privacy, after all the embarrassing scandals of her teens once Mom’s infidelities came to light, this time the invasion could keep her alive.
“Thank you. But I thought he was on a vacation in the Caribbean.”
“He has an understanding wife, a good phone connection, and efficient employees.” Colt shrugged.
“Great combination.” She’d been jealous at first of her children’s love for their nanny, but with time, she and kind-hearted Ashley had become friends. Not close friends, exactly, but far more than only acquaintances.
“It is.” He eyed her. “There’s still an empty guest cottage in
the grounds. Inside the fence and under the same level of security surveillance as the main house. You can use that if you’re worried about your reputation.”
“It’s better I go solo.” That was how she worked best. He might want to protect her, but it was her job to protect him by drawing the threat away.
And, at the same time, protect her heart.
The disappointment shadowing Colt’s eyes cut her raw. Then his jaw set in a stubborn line. “That’s what you think. I can be as persistent as you are.”
Why did he have to be this noble, this kind? It would’ve been easier to stay away from him if he were like her first husband, who’d rubbed her nose in her faults, in every possible way.
She sighed. “I know where this is going. If I insist on going back to my apartment, at the very least, you’ll post two bodyguards on a stakeout outside the building, right? But how are you going to find them on such short notice? Not that I agreed to it.”
“That understanding sister-in-law and good phone connection to the Caribbean again.” He had the audacity to wink. “But how about letting Brett and Ashley enjoy their vacation and two of his staff get the chance to sleep at home tonight? Stay in the guesthouse.”
That didn’t exactly fit with the idea of her keeping her distance.
“Thank you, but I’d rather not.” She twisted to face the window again. Looking in Colt’s eyes clouded her judgment. His concern touched her—it really did. But she couldn’t show him how much.
The barely audible rumble of his seat belt unrolling and the squeak of the leather seat told her he’d shifted closer. A whiff of his musky cologne confirmed it. That scent always affected her senses.
Before she knew it, she’d be weakening, agreeing to his plan.
“Humor me.” As if he knew he had her, laughter brightened his tone. “Otherwise, I’ll set up camp outside your apartment, make a fire, and start burning marshmallows. You know, like I did when we went camping with Corbin and Kitty.”
Against her will, her lips tugged up. His attempt at S’mores had been truly unforgettable. “What’s okay at the lake is against fire safety at the apartment complex.”
Her attempt at sternness didn’t quite come off, and then she made the mistake of looking at him. Her heart fluttered. Oh, that twinkle in his eye would be her undoing!
“Okay.” He didn’t even blink. “There’s a Plan B. I’m going to serenade you. All night long.”
She didn’t know whether to cringe or to chuckle. “Like you did after we met and I turned down all your dinner invitations?”
“It worked then, and I hope it would work now.”
And when he smiled at her like that, all her defenses tumbled down. “Only because I was so embarrassed about your horrendous singing. Hasn’t anyone told you that you have no musical talent whatsoever? You were shouting, not singing.”
He didn’t look bothered in the least. “The ladies in the apartments near you seemed to think differently. I even got some applause.”
“I guess they appreciated the effort and the gesture.” Probably, the view, too. Colt in a tuxedo, holding a huge bouquet of red roses—at the time, he didn’t know she preferred daisies—was a sight to see.
He cleared his throat. “Maybe I should start practicing right now. What should I sing? How about one of your favorite country songs?”
She waved her hands energetically, shooing him away. “No, please don’t. What did my poor neighbors do to deserve that? You know that’s blackmail, right? My rule is never to give in to blackmail.”
Though she was weakening, no doubt about it. Their banter felt just like old times.
“Rules like that are made to be broken.” A wide grin spread on his face, and just that was enough to send her heart into a somersault.
She’d love to roast marshmallows with him or grill steaks and barbecue ribs or take the kids camping again. Or even listen to his singing. That’s how far gone she was.
Not thoughts she should be having.
“I have a feeling the SUV is already heading for your ranch instead of my apartment. Isn’t it?” She quirked an eyebrow.
He spread his hands and shrugged. “What can I say? I was always like an open book for you.”
“No, you weren’t.” And she wasn’t for him. She’d hurt him once, and if she let him believe there could be something between them, she’d hurt him again once he knew the truth. Her tummy squeezed painfully. “Oh well, I can always get a taxi from there.”
“You can, but I hope you won’t.” The laughter fled from his suddenly thoughtful gaze. “I don’t know if this is connected or not. Remember that Marlowe guy I told you about? Before we left David’s ranch, Zack told me somebody from Marlowe’s company approached him yesterday offering employment. When he replied he already had employment he was happy with, the man said, ‘That’s precisely why we need you.’ Zack, of course, figured out what it was about and refused.”
She swallowed. Two mentions of the man in the same day twitched her investigator instincts. And trying to subvert Colt’s staff was getting a little too close to home. “Do you think Marlowe is dangerous?”
“He’s known as a man who stops at nothing to get what he wants. And he wants those manufacturing rights.”
So maybe by going solo and avoiding Colt, she wouldn’t be drawing the threat away from him.
She’d need to investigate that man, not get locked into her suspicions about Ross and Scarlett. The Daisy Killer’s victims had been public knowledge. Maybe Marlowe sent daisies to their families for some reason. It didn’t really fit with what could be his only motive, using threats against her to blackmail Colt into giving him manufacturing rights. Neither did donating to Mr. McCoy’s charity.
But who understood how people’s minds worked? Especially the criminal mind. Maybe he’d sent the daisies to others to convince Colt his threats were real.
Jackson slid back the privacy panel. “I have Fred on the cell phone, sir, asking to speak to you.”
“Put the call straight through.” It only took a second to connect. “Fred, what’s the problem.”
As Colt listened, she only caught a word or two of what the bodyguard said. Please, Lord, don’t let it be the children. Keep them safe. Please?
“No, of course, if you have a family emergency, you must go. It’s not a problem.” As Colt ended the call, he turned to her. “You no doubt figured Fred needs some time off. He’ll leave immediately when he reaches the ranch house.”
Hmm. “And that leaves you with no bodyguards.”
Colt’s eyes narrowed. “You’re saying that without bodyguards I wouldn’t be able to protect myself—or you?”
Uh-oh. How did she manage to say the wrong thing so often? Something clenched inside her as she felt the unwanted wall coming up between Colt and her again.
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
Not exactly. She didn’t need protecting. She could take care of herself. She’d never told him that, before they’d met, Brett considered hiring her as his brother’s bodyguard. Her boss figured she could pass as Colt’s girlfriend or fiancée and be less noticeable than a male bodyguard. He liked the element of surprise that came with that.
Thankfully, her boss and mentor had ditched that idea soon enough. He’d had to.
The spark of attraction to Colt had been strong the day she’d met him in Brett’s office when he’d come to visit his brother, though she’d done her best not to show it. She could never have been his bodyguard. That needed a calm head, unclouded by irrelevancies like attraction and desire.
Emotions that only became stronger over time. Emotions that could be a problem now.
She shifted in her seat, putting much-needed distance between them. But as large as the SUV was, she still smelled his musky cologne, still felt his gaze on her face, still had the same aching awareness of him.
No Zack and no Fred meant just one thing. Her duty was to stay with Colt. She’d never forgive herself if anything happened to him,
especially because of her. She’d have to spend a lot of time with him.
Reaching out a hand, she brushed her fingers against his. A small conciliatory gesture. Only the very tips of her fingers.
That much was safe.
Almost.
But to do her job, she’d have to find a way to keep her heart closed to him.
Chapter Eleven
Colt tensed when Mirabella touched his hand.
He didn’t want her staying because she saw it as her duty to protect him. On the other hand, if it would keep her safe, keep her with him, he’d play along.
But he had definite ideas about who’d be protecting who.
“Okay, I’ll stay in the guesthouse. But only to save my neighbors from your terrible singing.” Her tinkling laugh surely had to be forced.
If the twins were there, he had no doubt they’d be high-fiving.
Her phone beeped. She stiffened as she fished it out of her purse and swiped the screen, Another text from the Daisy Killer? She heaved a sigh and typed an answer before slipping her phone back in her purse.
So, most likely not the killer. He let his eyes ask the question he didn’t want to ask in words.
“That was Steven Marlowe.” A frown shadowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “I wonder how he got my phone number? Anyway, he invited me to dinner. Offered to jet me to any part of the world I’d like and give me a meal at whatever restaurant I wanted. And for some reason, the text had a photo of a diamond necklace. Reminded me of the necklace you sent me before you got to know me better and realized I don’t do bling.”
Was that jealousy clutching at his gut? “What did you answer? I’m asking purely out of concern for your safety, of course.”
“Of course.” She barely hid a smile. “I told him I already accepted an invitation to dinner. Or rather, to roasting marshmallows in the backyard.”
Nope. He knew enough to realize that wasn’t a good idea. Too dangerous being out in the open, even at the ranch house. A good sniper with a powerful rifle could kill from two miles away.
