Flashback. Jill ShalvisЧитать онлайн книгу.
to help.
“I think he’s wondering if I’m guilty of something.”
He just looked at her some more.
“The only thing I’m guilty of is knowing that he hasn’t done his job if he thinks Blake did those things.”
At that, his face softened, and regret filled his eyes, along with a grimness that had her shaking her head before he even spoke.
“Don’t say it,” she warned, not willing to hear it, not from him. Not from anyone. Not when she was this close to a breakdown. A grief breakdown. “Don’t.” She knew Blake, goddammit. She did. She didn’t remember much about her parents before they’d died in a car crash, but she remembered Blake. Every bit of him. He was the boy who’d held her hand every time they’d had to move to a new foster home. He was the teenager who’d punched a boy in the face when he’d hurt her, he was the man who’d believed in her enough to work double shifts to pay for her publicity shots so she could pursue her acting dream.
He could never have committed arson. She’d have sworn Aidan would have known that as well, but apparently she was wrong.
“There’s evidence—” he began, but she shook her head.
“Circumstantial.” She swallowed hard but a lump of emotion, the one that had been there since Blake’s death, remained. “I see that you’re no better a friend than you were a boyfriend.”
He opened his mouth, but before he could respond, the nurse pulled aside the curtain and entered the cubicle, followed by a doctor. “Everyone out,” the nurse ordered.
“I’m the only one here,” Aidan said.
“So get out,” the nurse responded sweetly.
Kenzie closed her eyes and lay back. She didn’t look at Aidan again; in fact, she didn’t open her eyes until she heard the rustling of the curtain, signaling he’d left.
Which was fine. Perfect, really. Because she’d sure as hell rather be alone than look into his eyes and see things she didn’t want to see.
AIDAN EXITED the emergency room, feeling like a class-A jerk. Though how that was possible, what with his saving her life and all, he had no idea…
Okay, he knew.
She’d seen the look in his eyes; she’d understood something she hadn’t wanted to understand—that he knew Blake was involved with those arson fires.
Aidan felt torn up about it, sick over it, but facts were facts. Blake had been placed at the scene of each arson by various witnesses. He had been depressed since losing Lynn, his partner before Cristina, in a fire the year before. His home had been seized and searched, and in his garage they’d found a stack of wire mesh trash cans, similar to the ones identified as the point of origin in each of the arsons.
Most damning, Aidan’s partner, Zach, had also seen him holding a blowtorch just moments after Zach’s house had been set on fire, with Zach and Brooke inside. Zach had almost died there.
And Blake had died there, perhaps deliberately. He’d died, leaving all of them, Zach, Aidan and the other firefighters, even Tracy, the woman he’d had such a crush on, everyone, destroyed.
Kenzie was in denial. He got that. She was angry. He got that, too. She needed someone to vent that anger at, to place it on, and he’d been handy enough.
I see that you’re no better a friend than you were a boyfriend.
Yeah, that had been a direct hit. Having her look at him as if he was the bad guy had really gotten to him, especially considering he still had the scrapes and bruises from saving her.
The late afternoon sun was sinking fast, cooling off the day. Having been up for two straight days now, he desperately needed sleep. He could close his eyes standing up right there in the hospital lot, and not wake up if a cyclone hit. He was so tired that he’d probably sleep completely dreamless. Well, except for maybe dreaming about Kenzie’s bare ass. Yeah, now that he’d seen that again, he’d most likely dream about it for a good many hours.
Days.
Years.
“Aidan.”
Hell. Tommy was leaning up against Aidan’s truck, a file in his hands, mouth pinched tight, looking as if he had plenty of things to say, and all fantasies abou Kenzie’s ass vanished. “What now?”
“I wasn’t aware that you knew her personally.”
“Who?”
“Come on, Aidan. Don’t play with me. Mackenzie Stafford. You didn’t say that you knew her.”
He sighed. “So?”
“So it felt to me like maybe you knew her…well.”
“Yeah. Once upon a time.”
“Okay, and so once upon a time, did you know she was Blake’s sister?”
Getting into tricky territory here. No one had known he and Kenzie had dated in the past. It’d been a quick, hot thing, very hot, and he certainly hadn’t been in any hurry to tell Blake he’d gotten his sister in bed. Kenzie hadn’t told Blake, either, for her own reasons, and then when Kenzie had gone off to Los Angeles, it hadn’t mattered anymore.
Did it matter now, with Blake dead? He couldn’t see how it did. “Yeah, I knew she was Blake’s sister.”
“Did you know that boat was Blake’s?”
“Where are we going with this, Tommy?”
“Did you?”
Aidan let out a breath. “Not until we were in the water and she told me.”
Tommy nodded. “Because you always sit around with someone you’re rescuing and chat about property ownership.”
“I asked her why she was there, on that boat. I was under the impression that she was in Los Angeles.”
“Yeah?” Tommy’s eyes studied him, considering. “So just how well do you know her?”
“Irrelevant.”
“I wonder if Blake would have thought so.”
Aidan fished his keys out of his pocket. “I’m going home to sleep. For many, many hours. When I’m back on duty you can drill me all you want. Maybe I’ll be able to think more clearly.”
“Maybe I don’t want you thinking more clearly.”
“And what the hell does that mean?”
“It means I need answers now. Did you know she was staying on the boat? Did you maybe visit with her there before the fire?”
“I told you. No. And no.”
“Ms. Stafford thinks Blake is innocent. That he was not only framed but possibly murdered, and she intends to prove it.”
Soundedright. Kenziemightlooklikeaprettyballof fluff, but she had sharp wits and was loyal to a fault. She also had the tenacity of a bulldog. Once she got her brain wrapped around an idea, there was nothing anyone could do to change her mind. Not about falling in love with him, not about being an actress and most definitely not about believing that Blake couldn’t be guilty of arson.
“So the question stands,” Tommy said quietly. “How well do you know her?”
“Did.” Well enough that when he’d looked into her eyes, he’d felt an odd stirring, a sensation almost like coming home. Yeah, once upon a time he’d known her well. As well as he’d known anyone. “Past tense.”
“Good enough.”
“For what?”
“To get you to tell her to stay the hell out of this investigation and not interfere.”