by Dobbs, L. A.
Cursing, he rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. Man, he was so damned tired of fighting every single day to prove his innocence, to prove he deserved a second chance, to prove worthy of his freedom. He couldn’t do this anymore tonight.
Tomorrow. He’d pick up his weapons and shield and charge into that battle again tomorrow.
For now, though, all he wanted to do was forget and sleep.
* * *
Shelby fiddled with the hem of her sweater for the umpteenth time and glanced at the two people sitting across the square conference table. The man, Detective Troy Atkins, she remembered from that day with Katherine in the condo. He still seemed nice enough—offering her coffee, allowing her time to collect her thoughts, asking her if she was all right. The woman though, Moore—a pretty African American woman with attitude to spare—looked like she’d just as soon lock Shelby up and throw away the key as talk to her. She’d been there that day at the condo too.
Of course, the dark shadows lurking in the corners of the room and stale air that smelled of floor wax and bad decisions didn’t help either. Ever since she’d discovered her dad’s extracurricular activities at the Lucky Ace as a teenager, Shelby had nightmares about just this kind of scenario. Being dragged into an interrogation room and questioned with no hope of escape, even though she was innocent.
Guilt by association.
Her chest constricted and her stomach churned and she took a deep breath to keep calm.
“Tell me about these.” Detective Moore slid a manila folder across the table to her.
Shelby frowned and opened the file, staring down at the printed e-mails stuffed inside. “Um, I didn’t write these, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Moore sat forward while Detective Atkins remained motionless, silent. “They were sent to Chase Evans in prison. Each one is time and date stamped.”
“Y-yes.” Shelby blinked down at the papers in front of her, her legs trembling. “I see that.”
“And they’re from your e-mail address.”
“I didn’t send these. I swear.” She met Detective Moore’s gaze. “I never even met Chase Evans until after my dad died.”
“Right.” Moore nodded. “And where did you say you met him again?”
“At my dad’s casino, the Lucky Ace.”
“So you just met him, and you decided it was a good idea to become romantically involved with the man who may have killed your father?”
“What? No!” She raised a trembling hand and pushed her long blond curls behind her ear. “It isn’t like that.”
“What is it like then, Miss Bryant?” Moore sat back and crossed her arms. “Please, enlighten me.”
Shelby glanced at Atkins, but his gaze remained steadfast on his coffee cup, frowning. She desperately wanted to bite her fingernails, a habit she’d broken way back in tenth grade, but she also didn’t want this Detective Moore to know how upset she was. Showing her emotions wouldn’t do her any favors in this situation. She cleared her throat. “First off, I don’t believe that Chase Evans killed my dad.”
“Really? And how do you know that?”
“I just know. I think he’s being set up.”
“Set up?” Atkins sat up a little straighter. “By who?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“I see.” Moore snorted. “This is a gut feeling of yours then, huh? What about the sex between him and your stepmother? That’s a set up too?”
Shelby didn’t answer. Did the cops really think Chase and Katherine had had sex? They had seen the same video Shelby had and it was pretty clear by the timestamps that nothing happened. Were they just trying to get her upset? Probably. She wasn't going to bite, though. She was afraid that no matter what she said they'd twist it and use it against her ... or Chase. Not to mention that she didn't want to admit—especially to herself— how much she was really starting to like Chase.
Moore toyed with the folder and smiled. “It was smart of you, you know. Brilliant, really. To use his urge for revenge to get what you want.”
Exhausted, Shelby did her best to follow the detective’s line of thought and failed. “I’m sorry?”
“Then you didn’t tell Chase that it was your dad who tipped off the police about the drugs stashed in his apartment? Interesting. I mean the force always suspected someone operated a trafficking ring out of the casino, then your father was helpful enough to hand us the right address on a silver platter. Vegas has him to thank for one of the biggest drug busts in Nevada history. Nice work.”
Bile stung Shelby’s throat and she swallowed hard. She’d known Chase’s conviction was drug related, but not that her dad had been involved. Chase must’ve known though, wouldn't he? Wouldn't it have come out as part of his trial? Yet he’d never said a word. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Okay, so maybe he did have additional motive to kill her dad.
And maybe she didn’t know him at all. Not really.
“Hey.” Moore looked at Atkins then back at Shelby. “I think we’ll just give you some time to consider all this.” She stood and walked to the door, the heels of her black pumps clacking loud against the linoleum floor. “I’ll be back soon.”
Shelby held it together until the door slammed behind Detective Moore, then tears formed against her will. Atkins reached across the table and patted her hand. “You want some more coffee?”
She stared at the untouched, now cold, cup in front of her. Throat clogged, she shrugged in response.
“Okay, great. I’ll be right back with fresh brew.” He picked up her cup and left the room.
Alone with her thoughts, Shelby swiped the back of her hand under her eyes. She wanted to find Chase and demand he tell her the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Then again, how could she possibly believe him now when he’d apparently been dishonest with her from the start. She sat forward and rested her forearms on the table, dropping her head down on top of them. God things were such a mess.
Detective Atkins returned a few moments later. “Sorry that took so long. Had to wait on a fresh pot.” She raised her head and looked at the cup of steaming liquid he set in front of her. He smiled at her, not the icy affair Moore flashed, but one that seemed genuine and kind. “I put cream and sugar in it too, like you requested before. Not that it makes it great or anything, but the caffeine will help you stay awake.”
She wrapped her cold fingers around the warm cup and sighed. “Thanks, Detective Atkins.”
“You’re welcome. And please, call me Troy.” He sat across from her again and took a long swig of coffee. “So, I’m puzzled. What does a pretty, smart, sweet girl like you see in a guy like Evans?”
Heat prickled her cheeks and she looked away. Detective Troy Atkins was quite a catch—handsome, great job, funny, nice. All awesome things in her book. Except for one problem. She’d met Chase Evans first and now the guy seemed to consume her every waking thought, especially since they’d teamed up to find her dad’s real murderer. Besides, it was getting involved with good looking men who were nice to her that got her into this interrogation room in the first place.
When she remained silent, Troy continued. “Hey, I understand if you made a mistake. We all do sometimes when it comes to love.”
Yep. A mistake. That was a perfect description of her choice to make out with Chase in her step-monster’s closet. Biggest, dumbest mistake ever.
“You let your emotions carry you away,” he said. “You don’t mean for it to happen.”
Got that right, buddy.
“Listen, Shelby. All we’re trying to do here is catch the bad guy, whoever that may be. Honestly, I don’t think that’s you. But if you do know who it is, then you have to tell us, even if Chase Evans is your partner in crime.”
“Like I said, Chase and I aren’t working together.”
Disappointment crossed Troy’s face before he hid it. “You were mad at your dad, Shelby. It happens. And we all do stupid things when we’re mad. Don’t
let one stupid mistake ruin the rest of your life. Please. We can cut you a deal.”
“I wasn’t mad at my dad. I loved him. And even if I was mad, I wouldn’t kill him.” The mention of her father had her vision blurring with tears again.
“Then why did you send him these, Shelby?”
He pulled some new papers out of the folder and passed them to her. She sniffled and squinted at the handwritten notes, petty things threatening her dad if he didn’t buy her what she wanted or pay more attention to her. She shook her head. She would never, ever say things like that to her dad. Ever. But damn if the handwriting didn’t look eerily similar to hers.
Icy dread trickled down her spine. Whoever was doing this was good. Too good.
She pushed the paper back to Troy with a shaky hand. “I didn’t write those either.”
“Shelby,” he said, his tone infinitely patient. “We compared these to a sample of your handwriting. Statistically they are a good match.”
Righteous anger flared alongside her despair. “Dammit, I’m telling you these aren’t from me. I don’t know where you got them, but I didn’t write them, okay?”
Tiredness, combined with overwhelming stress, finally crumbled her last defenses and she broke down in sobs. “T-those st-tupid n-notes don’t even make sense. Why would I kill my dad if I wanted more time with him, huh?” Nose running and eyes streaming, she looked across at Troy. “Now I’ll never get to spend time with him again. Never.” She hiccupped and took the tissue Troy handed her. “Can’t you people understand? I loved Dad. I’d do anything to spend just one more day with him. Anything.”
13
From the guest room on the second floor, Chase heard the ruckus downstairs and his anxiety ratcheted higher. Sure, he hung out with some of the Rockfords at work, but this was different. This was a family get-together and the last thing he wanted to be on that dreary, late-autumn Sunday was an interloper.
The smell of meat roasting and veggies baking made his stomach rumble and he inched closer to the top of the stairs. Blake had insisted he come down, partake of the food and the camaraderie, but Chase wasn’t so sure. It was one thing to be nice to him because he was an employee. It was another to hang out with an ex-con on the weekends for shits and giggles.
Henry snuggled in closer to the side of his neck, as if for encouragement, and Chase glanced sideways at the green guy. Blake had taken a real shine to him, but insisted Chase spend as much time with the iguana as he did, saying they’d bonded already or some nonsense. While Chase would deny it until he was blue in the face, he’d missed Henry. “Hey, buddy. What do you think? Should we go get some grub?”
Henry flicked his tongue out against Chase’s cheek.
“Okay, then. Let’s do this.” He took a deep breath for courage and descended the steps. Blake saw him before he reached the bottom floor. He raised a hand and waved Chase over to the busy living room.
Chase waved back and weaved through the crowd of Rockford siblings and cousins and God knew who else. He nodded to people he recognized and kept his head down with those he didn’t.
Logan Rockford toasted Chase with his beer as he stopped beside Blake, then recoiled once he spotted Henry. “Hey, keep that beast away from me, man.”
“Seriously, Logan?” Blake said. “After some of the women you’ve dated, Henry’s a vast improvement.”
“Whatever, man.” He took a long swig of beer and a step back, eyeing the iguana suspiciously. “He’s got that look, like he wants to gnaw my face off.”
Blake snorted then leaned over and tickled Henry under the chin. “Are you having fun with your Uncle Chase, huh? Who’s Daddy’s good boy, huh? Who? That’s right, Henry. Henry’s Blake’s good boy, aren’t you?”
Logan gave a disgusted groan. “Ew. You treat that thing like it’s your kid or something, bro. Seriously, ew.”
“Henry’s a sentient being, just like you.” Blake turned and glared at his younger brother, The Hurt in full force. “Besides, you’re going to hurt his feelings.”
“Right.” Logan shook his head and backed away, his expression dripping with wary disgust. “I’ll just call and book you a room at the loony bin, bro. Arriving tomorrow okay?”
“Hey, Chase!” Laura Rockford came up beside him. She had her arm around her new boyfriend—Mike McQuade, maybe—if Chase remembered correctly. Some computer geek turned billionaire. Not exactly his thing, but to each his own. Laura leaned in and smiled at Henry. “So this is the new pet you got for my brother, huh?”
“Yep. This is Henry.” Chase glanced at Blake and smiled. “More payback than pet.”
“He seems to be enjoying himself,” Mike said.
“Yeah, he’s a good boy, aren’t you, my man?” Chase turned and made kissy noises at Henry.
Logan sighed loud. “That’s it. I’m outta here. Gotta find me some sane folks to hang with.”
“Good luck with that around here,” Laura called to Logan’s retreating back, then turned to run a finger over Henry’s head. “You know Logan’s the one who’s terrified of lizards, not Blake, right?”
“Yeah, figured that one out a bit too late. Bad planning on my part.” He leaned in a bit closer to Laura, taking advantage of the fact Blake and Mike had gotten into a deep discussion about new emerging technology in the security field, and whispered, “What should I have gotten to scare Blake?”
Laura glanced up at him and winked. “A committed relationship.”
“Oh.” Well, damn. He couldn’t handle one of those himself, let alone for someone else. Not for the first time that day, Chase’s thoughts drifted to Shelby. It had been three days since their awful night in the LVPD interrogation room and he hoped she was okay. Leaving her there might’ve been the only option, but it still felt like a shitty thing to do. He’d texted her several times to apologize and see if she was okay, but had received no answer. He couldn’t blame her, but he felt sad that their short partnership was over now. He’d have to figure out how to clear himself all alone.
Uncomfortable, he shuffled his feet and focused on his conversation with Laura. “Wasn’t Blake married before?”
“Yeah, but she died in the line of duty. He’s never gotten over it.”
Laura squeezed Mike tight around the waist and cuddled into his side while Chase clutched Henry’s leash tighter. He couldn’t imagine how that must have felt. Another reason to avoid relationships even if his thoughts did keep returning to Shelby.
A commotion sounded behind him and he turned with the rest of the crowd to see Blake’s mother, Pearl Rockford enter the room from the direction of the kitchen. He’d never actually met either of Blake’s parents, but Blake always talked about them like they were royalty or something. He inched back farther toward the wall behind him, not wanting to interrupt their family reunion, as Pearl made her way around the room, greeting and embracing everyone.
She stopped in front of Chase—all bright smile and sleek silver hair, still vibrant and attractive despite her age—and smiled broadly. “Finally, I get to meet the illustrious Chase Evans. Blake’s told me so many wonderful things about you over the years. And I see you brought a friend too.”
Henry jumped from Chase’s shoulder up onto the fireplace mantel beside him as Pearl leaned in and kissed Chase on both cheeks then hugged him tight.
Stunned, Chase patted her on the back, staring after the woman as she moved on down the line of guests. He’d expected the other Rockfords to be polite, but that was about it. So far, they’d welcomed him with open arms. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so accepted. It felt good. Better than he wanted to admit.
The doorbell rang and Chase took ahold of Henry’s leash again, not wanting him to run out the door. Logan answered it then stepped back and scanned the crowd before pointing back in Chase’s general direction.
“Hey, man. There’s someone here to see you,” Logan called above the din.
People parted and Chase froze in place as Shelby came into view.
/> * * *
Shelby held her breath while all eyes seemed to turn in her direction.
Crap. She should’ve remembered what Dino Machiavelli had said the other night at the casino. Today was Blake Rockford’s family dinner. She hadn’t meant to interrupt, but it was too late now. Besides, this was the only day when she had a few hours free from the shelter.
They had unfinished business to discuss.
She followed Logan Rockford across the packed living room to where Chase stood near the fireplace, looking both adorable and guilty as hell. And considering the last time they’d seen each other, he should feel guilty. Especially after the way he’d bailed on her at the police station. She’d looked for him once they’d finally released her shortly after midnight, but was told he’d taken off a few hours earlier with Blake.
As she got closer to Chase, she noticed Henry perched on the fireplace mantel, basking in a ray of sunlight streaming through the clouds outside. At least one of them felt at ease at the moment.
“Hey,” she said once Logan left them alone again. Well, if you considered standing in the middle of at least thirty people “alone”. “Uh, I wondered if we could talk.”
“Sure.” The word emerged as little more than a gruff grunt. Chase coughed and tried again. “Um, sure.”
Someone nearby called out then toasted someone else. The sound of clanking glass and the smell of spilled alcohol filled the air.
“Is there someplace more quiet?” she asked.
“Yeah, of course.” He took her arm and lead her toward a doorway near where she’d entered the two-story home. She glanced around as they weaved through the crowd. The place was nice, modern and decorated in a southwestern style she liked. Homey, yet clean and professional, like Blake Rockford himself. It suited him.