by Melody Anne
He didn’t say anything as he led her down a long hallway, then moved easily through a set of double doors into an inviting den. This room had more light to it, with oversize uncovered windows and cream-colored furniture. She was sure Declan hadn’t decorated it. There was too much of a feminine touch to the room. All it really needed was a couple of vases of fresh flowers, and it would be downright beautiful.
“My sister decorated most of the house,” Declan said, as if reading her mind. Her gaze fastened on his, and another shiver went down her spine. He was scary, all right, and she was an idiot for being there. This was beyond her job description, and she was so far out of her league she wasn’t sure what she was doing.
“I was thinking this room had a woman’s touch,” she offered. Then she wanted to kick herself. It was none of her business. And it could have been a girlfriend who’d done the decorating. But her tone had sounded so disbelieving. It was strange to think of Declan in a relationship. Eden was afraid he’d consume anyone he dated. That only made her realize there was a real possibility he could be guilty.
“If you’ve been expecting me, you know I’m here to talk about Owen,” she said. There was no way she was telling him he was now on her suspect list. The tiniest smirk rose to his lips, and she was suddenly defensive. “About the fire,” she added. “I’m part of the investigation team.” She tried to see if he gave away anything at her words.
His expression didn’t change. The smirk didn’t leave his lips, and she found her fingers grasping at each other as she picked at a nail that was already too short. She hated becoming a child again, especially around men. She’d been raised by her father, and she’d been a tomboy most of her life. Men didn’t and shouldn’t intimidate her. But Declan wasn’t an average guy, so she figured she could give herself the slightest of breaks.
“You and my little brother have had quite the number of ups and downs, haven’t you?” Declan finally asked.
Though she hated that it was happening, Eden felt hot color rise in her cheeks. “That’s not what this is about,” she assured him.
“Oh, Eden, if you truly think that, you aren’t as smart as I’ve always known you to be,” Declan told her. “You can think this isn’t personal all you want, but at the end of the day, it’s always going to be personal between you and Owen.”
There was such truth in his words, as if he didn’t doubt for a second what he was saying. There was also something about his voice that made a person want to fall in line, to do exactly what he told them to do.
He truly was a dangerous man.
But was he a guilty one?
“Honestly, Declan, I’m not here to talk about Owen and me. I’m trying to do my job, and I think you’re trying to distract me,” she said, proud of the firmness in her tone, choosing to ignore the shake that accompanied it.
“What do you expect to get from this visit?” Declan asked. He moved over to a grouping of couches and held out his hand, waiting for her to sit before he took his own seat. She wondered if that was a gentleman thing or an advantage thing. She was pretty sure Declan wasn’t the sort of man to ever be the first one down.
“I won’t waste your time. I have a list of people who are being investigated for this fire. Owen’s name is at the top.” She didn’t look away from Declan as she said this. His expression didn’t change. He appeared relaxed.
She wondered if she could ask questions that would make him slip. She’d come here wanting to question him about his brother, and she now found she wanted to ask him what he did all day.
She waited for him to say something, and it took all she had not to fidget in her seat. Was this an intimidation tactic of his? If so, it was highly effective. She waited . . . and waited. It felt like hours, but she knew it was only seconds—less than a minute, surely.
Finally, he spoke. “We both know Owen wouldn’t ever do anything that would endanger lives, let alone destroy the land he loves so much,” Declan told her.
But would you? She barely managed to keep the words in.
“He left his home. I think you’re overestimating his love for it,” she said, her voice a little too bitter. Her mind was racing, and she wasn’t sure which direction she should go.
“He left this land . . . or he left you?” Declan asked. There was no taunt in his voice, but his words stung. He was definitely good at his job. If he was guilty, she had a feeling he’d never be caught.
“I don’t matter in this,” she assured him. “Owen left this land. Maybe he has some bad memories here. Maybe he wants it destroyed.” She paused for a moment, meeting Declan’s cool gaze. “Or maybe it’s someone else who’s responsible. Can you think of who that might be?” The last word was spoken quietly as she lost some of her bravado.
Declan laughed, actually laughed. The sound was so shocking to her, Eden found her mouth hanging open as she stared at him in awe. She searched her memory, really searched it, and there wasn’t a single time she could ever remember hearing this man’s laughter. It was almost surreal.
“Excuse me,” he said as one more chuckle escaped before his lips closed and his expression went neutral again. “I know you aren’t out to get Owen. That’s the only reason you’re in this house.” The words weren’t a threat or a warning, but they carried a thread of steel so strong she’d be a fool not to listen to what he had to say. “And because I know you care about Owen, I’ll tell you this much.” He stopped and she found herself holding her breath.
“He had to leave this town. It’s not my story to share with you, it’s his, but he had to leave. But don’t ever doubt for a single second how much he loves this land, how much he loves his family . . .” He paused again, looking at her as if deciding if he could trust her or not. Then his lips parted. “Or how much he loves you.”
Those final six words hung in the air between them. Eden’s heart was thundering as she looked at Declan. He wasn’t a liar, had always been known for his unbendable integrity. But a person could change. She knew that more than anyone.
Him talking about Owen and his supposed love for her could easily be a distraction. He could very well be aware she was suspicious of him, as he seemed to have an uncanny ability to read people.
Still, his words swirled in her brain. Did he believe that Owen did love her? Should she even care about that? Was Declan distracting her on purpose? She hated that she cared. At the end of the day, she knew Owen wouldn’t have left her if he’d loved her. A person didn’t do that to another person they loved.
But none of that mattered, anyway. She’d gone to Owen, gone to him and made love to him, had been one with him . . . and she’d let her father die because of it. She and Owen together might feel right, but no matter what, it always ended in disaster.
“Why did Owen leave?” she found herself asking.
“I told you, that’s his story to tell,” Declan said. Eden knew she could beg and plead with this man to tell her the story, but there would never be any cracking Declan. He could be tortured to death, and he wouldn’t crack. Some men had that quality about them—very few men. Declan was certainly one of a kind.
“I’m going to enjoy watching a woman take you down,” Eden said, shocked when she realized she’d spoken those words out loud. She felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to say that.
Declan smiled at her, not a friendly, heartwarming smile, but the smile of a tiger, of a predator, of nature’s most vicious creature who’d just spotted his prey. She found herself scooting back in her seat, instinctively trying to protect herself. This wasn’t a man you challenged . . . or tried to get in the last word with.
“I look forward to someone trying,” Declan said after a long pause. A shiver passed through her. Before she could say a single word, he looked at something behind her; then his smile grew. It was so odd to see this man grin. It was disconcerting.
“It appears as if we have a visitor,” he told her.
Eden didn’t need to ask who was there. Her body knew wi
thout needing to see or hear him. She refused to give Declan the satisfaction of seeing her stress. She simply sat back and waited. At least Declan had given her a few seconds to prepare herself. She was sure that hadn’t been his intention.
She was sure he didn’t want to answer any more questions. Did that make him guilty? The chances were so slim she knew it was a wasted road.
However, right now, all she could do was sit and wait . . .
Wait for Owen. Wait for answers. Wait . . . and wait. That’s what her life had been reduced to.
Chapter Nine
The room was so quiet a cricket could be heard rubbing its legs together as Owen walked in, looking none too happy. Eden glanced at him, refusing to feel as if she was doing something wrong. Yes, Declan was Owen’s brother, and yes, he might feel she was overstepping her bounds, but this was her job, and she was doing what she was supposed to do.
She shook off her irrational guilt as she looked at her former lover and waited for him to say the first words. It appeared as if Declan was waiting, too. Of course, that was just the way Declan was. He was never in a hurry to fill silence. Maybe he enjoyed how uncomfortable it made most people.
“I see you ran away from me and came straight to my brother,” Owen finally said, moving closer to her. She could practically feel the heat radiating from his body. If she hadn’t personally seen him almost get consumed by flames chasing after him, she’d never have guessed his life had almost ended just a few short hours earlier.
“I had questions for him,” she answered calmly, doing her best to maintain her composure. “He’s been a big help,” she said with a bit of a smirk. Declan had, in fact, been no help at all, had given her far more questions than answers, but she wanted to see Owen squirm. Her words did the trick, as Owen looked at his brother in a “What the hell” way.
Declan seemed to enjoy this game, too, ’cause all he did was shrug and give his brother that smirk of the lips that was impossible to read.
“We weren’t quite finished, if you want to go away,” Eden told Owen before he could say something else. They had gotten nowhere, but again, she didn’t seem capable of controlling the words escaping her tight throat.
“I think you’re more than finished here,” Owen said, the words a definite threat. He didn’t like her speaking to his family. Was it because he had something to hide? Did he suspect his brother, too? If he did, she had no doubt he’d protect him.
“Do you two lovebirds need privacy?” Declan asked, finally entering the tense conversation. Eden turned and glared at him, forgetting for a moment how intimidated by him she was.
“We’re not anything to each other, so no, we definitely don’t need privacy,” she stated. Declan chuckled. Eden caught the surprise in Owen’s eyes. At least she knew it wasn’t just her who was shocked when that foreign sound came out of Declan’s mouth.
The difference between her and the two brothers was how quickly they could compose themselves. Unlike them, she wasn’t able to turn on a dime and shift directions.
Owen decided he was done speaking as he marched over to her, grabbed her hand, and hauled her to her feet. She was so shocked by this he-man tactic that she nearly floated into the air as her body was propelled upward. She looked at him in surprise. Owen had always been a gentle man, sweet and kind. He wasn’t the caveman type. Of course, that was the man she used to know. This new guy she wasn’t sure about.
“We’re leaving,” he said to both her and Declan.
“Have fun,” Declan called out as Owen swiftly dragged her from the room. She was so shocked by this she found herself following him, offering no resistance. She wasn’t sure what in the heck to do.
They nearly made it to the front door before she got her wits back and yanked her hand from his, taking a step away. He stood there looking like a linebacker as he waited for her tirade to begin. Because she knew he expected her to yell, she took a calming breath and spoke in the iciest voice she could manage.
“I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t go around manhandling people,” she said. “I wasn’t finished speaking with your brother, and I don’t appreciate you interfering in my investigation.”
To her surprise, Owen didn’t look the least bit upset as he let her finish. He smiled, confusing her that much more. She wasn’t able to adjust so quickly to his shifting moods.
“You do realize Declan wouldn’t tell you anything even if I was guilty. There’s a thing called loyalty among family and friends,” he finally said. That’s what she feared. If any of the Forbes men were guilty, she didn’t think it would ever be discovered. That didn’t mean she was willing to give up.
“Are you confessing?” she asked. Her stomach clenched. When she’d been handed this case, she’d honestly believed she wanted him to be guilty, but she’d known from the moment she’d seen his name that it wasn’t true. Owen wasn’t perfect, and he’d hurt her, but arson was a vindictive crime. It was done with purpose. Owen wasn’t the type who could do it.
“Sugar, if I wanted to confess to something, it most certainly wouldn’t be arson,” he said with a wink. He then took her hand and moved to the door. This time she allowed him to take her outside. It was useless to fight. And she was confused about Declan. She needed to gather her thoughts before talking to him again.
When they made it outside, Eden was irritated to find her car blocked by Owen’s massive truck. She was sure that had been a planned maneuver on his part. She was once again ticked off.
“Are you so childish you’re now blocking my car?” she asked in her best disciplinary voice.
“Just parking, darling,” he told her, leading the way to her car. He even opened her door for her. “I’ll back up, then follow you out. This road can get a little treacherous in the evening.”
“I’ve been driving here since I was sixteen. I’ll be fine,” she assured him. He opened her car door.
Eden got inside, relieved when Owen moved back to his truck. She was going to wait for him to leave, but he backed away just enough to allow her out and then stopped. He was waiting for her. He wasn’t going anywhere until he was assured she was long gone. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t circle back to his brother’s house if she wanted to.
She turned her key . . . and nothing. There was no click, nothing. She tried again . . . and nothing. Allowing a momentary lapse in judgment, she slammed her palms into her steering wheel, which normally would’ve made the horn go off. But again . . . nothing.
This just wasn’t shaping up to be her day.
Her door came open, and Owen was standing there. She glared at him. “What did you do to my car?” she demanded.
He looked confused. “I didn’t touch your car,” he assured her.
“Then why won’t it start?” she asked.
“Let me try,” he said almost indulgently, as if he could do something she couldn’t.
“Be my guest,” she offered, stepping out of the car. He sat down and tried the key. She almost expected it to start. Owen was now the one at the wheel, and nothing would dare defy one of the Forbes men.
But much to her frustration, the car didn’t make a sound. Owen reached down and found the latch to her hood. He popped it and stepped from the car, opening it up. He looked for a few moments, then glanced over at her.
“I don’t see anything wrong,” he said. “I have no idea how these new vehicles work. You’re going to have to get it towed and . . .” He stopped as he looked down at his watch. “The towing company is closed for the day.”
“Dammit!” she uttered, not looking at him when she heard him chuckle. She wasn’t convinced he hadn’t done something to her vehicle. But she turned and looked at the house. What if Declan had gotten someone to do something with the car? What if he’d been planning something if Owen hadn’t shown? His guilt was firming more and more in her mind, and she couldn’t stop a shiver of dread from rolling down her spine.
“Looks like you’re either taking a ride from me or hiking back t
o town,” he said, as if it didn’t matter to him which choice she made. Her pride at full force, she was tempted to tell him to stick it where the sun didn’t shine, then hike back to town. But Declan lived out a ways; she figured it was at least five miles, and the sun had already set, leaving the area a little too spooky for her tastes. And with her probably ridiculous suspicions of Declan, the last thing she wanted was to be caught out in his neck of the woods . . . utterly defenseless.
If she made it back home in one piece, it would be a miracle. As much as she hated being indebted to Owen, she was left with no choice but to accept his offer.
“I guess I’ll take a ride back to my house,” she finally said, so quietly the words barely managed to drift through the small distance between them.
Much to Owen’s credit, he didn’t seem to gloat. That was a positive in his favor. He had many more marks in the negative column at the moment, though. She grabbed the rest of her files, not willing to leave them in her car. She wasn’t taking any chances right now. “I should let Declan know I’ll get my car out of here tomorrow morning.” She in no way wanted to look Declan in the eyes again right now, not when she was so suspicious of him.
“I’ll call him,” Owen assured her.
She could do it herself but was glad not to have to. She just nodded as she allowed Owen to lead her to his truck. He once again opened the door and stood there while she climbed inside.
The scent of Owen invaded her as he closed the truck door. It was a mixture of leather, smoke, pine, and . . . and that thing she never could identify, but whenever she managed to smell it, it made her think of making love on a hot summer day down at the mudhole. She clenched her thighs together as heat overtook her. She was grateful this was a short drive, because she didn’t think she could manage a long one without finding herself sliding closer to this man who took her breath away.
There was no way she’d be able to stand this drive in silence, so as soon as Owen climbed into the cab, she hit him with a question.
“Declan said you had to leave town. Why?” she asked.