Confessions

by Cynthia Eden

  “And what specialty is that?”

  “He catches cheating spouses.”

  Her heart slammed into her chest. “I wasn’t cheating on Eric!”

  Grant tucked the card into his pocket. Wait, could he just...take that? From Eric’s place?

  Then he started searching the rest of the condo. No wonder he’d put on gloves before he came inside. He opened cabinet doors, poked into Eric’s desk. Eric’s laptop was gone, and Scarlett had no idea where it was or—

  “None of your things are here.” Grant’s shoulders were stiff. “Not so much as a hairbrush or a toothbrush.”

  “I told you, I didn’t live here.”

  He glanced over at her. “But you were sleeping with him.”

  Her cheeks flamed. “That’s personal!” And so not Grant’s business at all.

  “You don’t get to have personal,” he growled. “Not when you’re facing a life sentence for murder.”

  She glanced away from him.

  “We’re done here,” he said flatly. “Let’s go.”

  She couldn’t wait to get out. Scarlett hurried toward the door. She pulled it open.

  And found Justin waiting in the hallway.

  The breath left her in a startled rush.

  “Came back to the scene of the crime, did you?” Justin muttered, his eyes angry slits. His lips twisted into a furious snarl. “Back to my brother’s home!”

  In the face of his fury, she staggered back. But she didn’t have to retreat far. Grant was there. Pulling her behind him. Facing off against Justin.

  “You shouldn’t be here!” Justin snapped as he ducked under the police tape. “McGuire, you think because you’ve got half the Austin cops in your back pocket that you can bust into my brother’s home?”

  “I’m looking for his killer.” Grant’s voice was flat.

  “She’s right behind you! You don’t have to look hard!”

  The rage in his voice scared her. Justin had been unraveling ever since his brother’s death. And all his fury was directed at her. Because he thinks I’m guilty.

  “You can help us.” Grant’s own voice was calm. “Tell us the names of any enemies your brother had. Tell us—”

  Justin’s laughter cut him off. “You aren’t going to pin this on someone else.” He shoved past Grant and his gaze raked Scarlett. “I’m going to be there at the trial. Every day. I will make certain that you pay for what you’ve done.”

  His voice was raised. He was nearly shouting at her and she wondered if any neighbors would hear him.

  No one had heard anything when Eric died.

  “Another fool...” Justin’s stare was fixed on Grant. “Eric talked about you, McGuire. He was right, huh? You were with her. All this time.” His hands were fists at his sides. “Were you in on it? Did you help her to kill my brother?” Then with a shout, as if he’d been pushed too far by his own fury, Justin attacked. He came at Grant, swinging his trembling fists.

  Scarlett didn’t even have a chance to scream.

  Grant stepped back and dodged one blow. He caught the second fist that Justin sent his way. “You’re drunk,” Grant said. “Again.”

  Justin tried to head butt him, but Grant just shoved him back. He hit the nearest wall and his legs seemed to crumple beneath him as Justin sank to the floor.

  “Sober up,” Grant ordered him with a hard glare. “Then maybe you can see that more is going on here than meets the eye. I didn’t kill your brother. Neither did she. But we will find out who did.” He reached for Scarlett’s hand. “Come on.”

  Justin didn’t get up. He just watched them with bloodshot eyes. “He knew...all along, he knew she was with someone else!”

  I wasn’t.

  “Watching her, following her...he knew!”

  They ducked under the yellow police tape and slipped back into the hallway. Grant pulled her toward the elevator. She didn’t breathe again until those elevator doors slid closed.

  Then she realized that Grant still had her wrist in an unbreakable grip. His muscles were tight, his jaw locked. “Was there someone else?”

  She shook her head.

  “A jealous lover could have killed Eric. Tell me. Before Louis East does.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” Her breath whispered out. “Nothing.” Because she’d had a grand total of three lovers in her life.

  One of those lovers stood before her.

  Another was dead.

  And the third...long gone.

  “Justin is following you.”

  She shivered. The man’s fury scared her.

  Grant’s eyes raked over her face. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

  If Grant hadn’t been there...if she’d been the only one in that condo, looking for clues... “I’m not so sure of that.” She hesitated, then said, “Justin has been battling an alcohol problem for a while. Eric told me about it. He was trying to get his brother help—”

  Grant swore. “And you didn’t think this was important to mention to the police? To me? Eric would have opened his condo door to his brother. He would have let him right inside! And if the guy gets mean when he drinks...”

  He did.

  “I told the police. They said he had an alibi.” She swallowed. The elevator had stopped. “I didn’t.” She had also been the one covered in blood.

  She started to step out into the lobby.

  Grant tugged her to a stop. He still held her wrist. “Last chance,” he murmured. “You think I can’t feel your secrets? Because I can. It’s like they’re standing right between us.”

  Tears stung her eyes. There is no need for him to know. The PI couldn’t have found out.

  She shook her head.

  “Have it your way.” Grant dropped her hand.

  And she nearly ran out of the elevator.

  I don’t ever want to go back to Eric’s condo. The image of the bloodstained floors filled her mind, and when she hurried out of the building, even the bright sunlight couldn’t banish her chill.

  * * *

  GRANT DIDN’T BOTHER knocking at Louis East’s place. He just grabbed the doorknob and shoved open the door to the small office on the rougher side of Austin. The PI was in there, and Louis jumped to his feet with an outraged bellow.

  “Hey, who the hell are—McGuire.”

  Scarlett crept in behind Grant. He didn’t look back at her.

  Louis did. His eyes widened in recognition when he saw her, then narrowed in calculation. “Well, well, isn’t this an interesting little party.” He sat back down at his desk and waved his hand toward the chairs across from him. “Sorry my assistant wasn’t out there to greet you, but—”

  “Cut the bull,” Grant ordered. He didn’t sit. “You don’t have an assistant.” He stalked forward and slapped his hands on the worn desk. “Why did Eric Turner hire you?”

  Once more, Louis’s eyes—light blue—darted toward Scarlett. “The usual reason folks hire me,” he muttered.

  “He thought she was cheating?” Grant had asked Scarlett about another lover even as jealousy had twisted through him. She’d denied it, but...

  Louis laughed. “Why are you acting surprised? Though I have to give you both credit, no matter how many times I tailed Scarlett, I could never catch you two together.”

  You two. Grant straightened. “Eric thought I was her lover?”

  Scarlett was silent behind him.

  Louis blinked. “Sure...he was certain of it. Said that she was still hung up on you, and he wanted proof of her infidelity.” The PI rubbed his hand over his jaw. “Seems some guy told him you were both meeting up, but that Eric...he was hoping the fellow was wrong. Optimistic type, you know? So he hired me.”

  Grant forced his jaw to unclench. “What guy
told him? I need a name.”

  Louis shrugged. “Don’t know a name. He didn’t tell me one.” His eyes darted toward Scarlett once more. Nervously this time.

  Wait...that was more than just a nervous glance. Guilt showed in the man’s eyes, for just an instant. The flash appeared then was quickly controlled.

  “You never saw us together,” Scarlett said as she stalked toward the PI’s desk. “Because we weren’t together.”

  “Yeah, well, then you probably shouldn’t have called Grant here’s name at the, uh, wrong time.”

  Grant heard her shocked inhalation.

  He was pretty damn shocked, too.

  But Grant didn’t look at her. Not yet. Focus. “You said you followed her. How long?”

  Louis glanced toward his narrow window.

  “How long?”

  “For a month. Right up until the poor fool’s death. Figured there wasn’t any point in following her anymore, ’cause no one was around to pay me.”

  So the guy had cut his losses. Moved on to fresh prey. But something nagged at Grant. “Were you following her the morning she found the body?”

  He saw the faint flicker in Louis’s eyes.

  “You SOB. You were following her! And you didn’t tell the cops!” He wanted to rip the guy apart right then.

  Louis shot out of his chair and staggered back a step. “I didn’t realize what was happening at first. She went in, then ten minutes later the cops roared up. The cops and me...we don’t exactly get along so well. Got some conflicts of interest happening, know what I mean?”

  “You left,” Scarlett whispered.

  Louis shrugged once more.

  “You could have told them...” She marched behind the desk to close in on Louis. “You could have told them that I was only inside a few minutes! That I didn’t have time to kill Eric—”

  He wasn’t looking her in the eye. “How do I know what you had time to do?”

  “The ME said he’d been dead for two hours! You would have proved that I couldn’t possibly have killed him, if you’d just talked to the cops. You would have confirmed I wasn’t there at the time of his death.” She grabbed the man’s shirt. Shook him. “They arrested me! Tossed me in jail! My life...my life is being shredded in today’s paper, and all along you knew I didn’t do it!”

  Grant choked back his own fury. He caught Scarlett’s shoulders in his hands and pulled her away from Louis. “You were waiting, right, Louis?” That twisted, money-grubbing weasel. “Waiting until you thought she was good and desperate, and then what? You were going to appear with some evidence for her to use in court? Evidence she could buy? Photos of her entering the condo, with a nice neat time stamp on them?”

  The faint flicker of Louis’s eyelashes came again and Grant knew he was right on target.

  Scarlett tried to lunge for the man again. Grant held her back. “We’re calling the cops right now, Louis,” he snarled. “We’re calling Detective Shayne Townsend. And you’re going to tell him everything. You’re going to give him those photos, do you understand?”

  Louis stared over Grant’s shoulder. “What photos?”

  “If you try to hold back on this, I will destroy you,” Grant promised him with lethal intensity. “Trust me, you don’t want to tangle with me.” He wasn’t a pawn for this jerk to play with. And neither was Scarlett.

  Louis swiped his hand over his sweaty forehead.

  “You can prove I’m innocent,” Scarlett whispered. “You can prove it!”

  Grant yanked out his phone. He dialed the number he’d memorized long ago, then waited. Scarlett was trembling beside him. The phone rang once. Twice—

  “Detective Townsend.”

  “Shayne, it’s Grant McGuire. I need you to meet me at East Private Investigations, now.”

  “Uh, yeah, I’m in the middle of a case—”

  “Louis East can prove that Scarlett Stone didn’t kill her fiancé.” Ex-fiancé. “He’s got photos. He was there.”

  “What?” Shock made the word crack. “I’m on my way.”

  Yeah, he’d thought that would be the detective’s response. Grant shoved the phone back into his pocket.

  He glared at the man who’d let Scarlett suffer. If he hadn’t found that card, Louis would have kept silent for months, until he’d gotten a big payoff. Because money was more important to the sleazeball than a woman’s life.

  “Sit back down,” Grant snarled.

  Louis glared, but sat back in his chair.

  And Scarlett paced away from them, nervous energy seeming to roll off her.

  It’s going to be all right. You’ll be safe. This will be over soon.

  “If they read my files, they’ll find out everything,” Louis said.

  Scarlett whirled toward him.

  Grant caught the flash of fear on her face.

  “You want them learning everything?” Louis pressed. He smiled. His slick, I’m-still-in-the-game smile. “Maybe we can still work something out here, huh?”

  Scarlett glanced at Grant. There was definitely fear in her gaze.

  “Well, well...” Louis’s chair squeaked. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

  Grant took up a position by the doorway. He wasn’t leaving that office, not until Shayne arrived. He wasn’t going to risk giving Louis the chance to flee—or to destroy any photos.

  “I told Eric. I mean, I had to give the guy something, right? He was footing my bill and he needed results. So I told him...the day before he died.”

  Grant’s eyes narrowed. “What did you tell Eric?”

  But Louis was watching Scarlett. “Then I heard that you spread the word you’d broken up with him. You told the cops that spiel, right? You broke up with him. But that’s not really what happened before he died, is it? That guy dumped you.”

  “Stop,” Scarlett whispered.

  “Because he found out about you and McGuire here...”

  “There was nothing to find out,” Grant said for what had to be the fourth time. He’d tried to keep his distance from Scarlett. “I stayed away from her.”

  Louis smiled. “He never knew, did he, Scarlett?”

  “Stop,” she said again.

  “Or at least, you think he didn’t.” Now Louis was looking satisfied, as a smirk twisted his thin lips. “Maybe I can clear you, sweet thing, but what about your lover here? When I talk to the cops, guess who will become suspect number one in that lawyer’s murder?”

  Louis was an idiot, and Grant didn’t want him saying another word until the cops arrived. Not another—

  “I mean, you get pregnant by the guy, so that had to mean something, right?”

  Pregnant.

  Grant’s heartbeat stilled in that moment, then started racing in a triple-time rhythm. His gaze flew to Scarlett. All the color had fled from her cheeks.

  “No wonder good old Eric flipped out when he heard the news. And after I told him, he said he was going to see you, McGuire. Now I’m wondering...just how did that little meeting go? Especially since Eric Turner is the one who wound up dead.”

  “Grant...” Scarlett’s voice was a whisper.

  “Be careful, sweet thing,” Louis warned her. “From what I can tell, you don’t fall for the safe ones. And you’re staring right at a man who has killed plenty of times.” Louis paused a beat. “I guess the big question is...did he just kill...for you?”

  Chapter Four

  Scarlett fought to keep her emotions in check. She was back at the police station—big surprise there. Back in an interrogation room, and her lawyer was outside, his raised voice carrying easily through the shut door.

  He wanted the case against her to be dismissed.

  The prosecutor wasn’t ready for that move, not yet. That would be why all the ar
guing was occurring.

  Detective Shayne Townsend had brought Louis in for questioning. He’d confiscated all Louis’s photographs, videos and notes about her.

  And about Grant.

  The door opened and she tensed as Grant stepped in. There was no emotion on his stony face, but his eyes glittered with fury.

  She rose on shaky legs. “Grant...”

  He marched toward her, shook his head. “Not here,” he said quietly. His gaze cut to the right, to the mirror that she knew was really set up for two-way observation. Another room was located behind that glass, a space for the cops to use as they viewed interrogations. Were cops in there even now, watching them?

  He hadn’t talked to her, not since they’d arrived at the station. She was almost afraid of the conversation that would happen between them, because the fury in his eyes seemed to be directed straight at her.

  I never told him. There just...never seemed a point. Why hurt him? She’d carried the pain fine on her own.

  The door opened once more. Pierce Jennings stood there, and her lawyer looked pleased. Well, as pleased as it was possible for him to look. Normally, he was in what she thought of as “shark mode.” Jennings was considered to be the best criminal defense attorney in the Austin area—and he had that reputation because he would do anything necessary for his clients.

  “Am I clear?” Scarlett asked, the hope making her voice crack a bit.

  Pierce hesitated then shook his head. “Not yet, but this new evidence sure did blow a hole in the prosecutor’s case.”

  She wanted the case to vanish.

  Pierce glanced toward Grant. “I’d heard you were a good PI. Seems the rumors weren’t wrong.”

  Grant inclined his head. No change of expression crossed his face.

  “But, uh...” Pierce coughed a bit “...in light of some of the...notes in Louis East’s case files, you might need to stay away from my client for a while. I’d advise that you put some distance between the two of you.”

  Grant’s brows climbed.

  The lawyer exhaled slowly. He’d shut the interrogation room door behind him. Scarlett knew the cops couldn’t monitor them through that two-way mirror, not when she was having a talk with her attorney. For the moment, they were safe to speak freely.