Eddie sprang to his feet so fast John was instantly alarmed. He eased his jacket open, ready to reach for his weapon.
But Eddie just stood glaring down at him, his red-rimmed eyes flashing in barely suppressed rage. “Does he know you’re here?”
“Who? The superintendent?” Very slowly John rose to his feet, taking away Eddie’s advantage.
“You don’t know what kind of trouble you’re walking into, man. You don’t know.”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
Eddie just shook his head. “No one crosses him. I mean, no one. Look at me. I’m living proof.”
John gave him a long hard appraisal. “You blame your father for the way your life’s turned out? Come on, Eddie. You’re a big boy.”
The criticism didn’t seem to register. Or maybe he just didn’t care. He scratched a tattoo on his left arm. “The only decent thing he ever did was marry Annette. And then he had to go and mess that up, too.”
“With Gail? Is that why he and your stepmother split up?”
Eddie shrugged. “Annette should have left him years ago if you ask me, but she didn’t. For some reason she still loves him. I thought if I could give Gail Waters what she wanted, she’d back off. Give them a chance to reconcile.”
“What did Gail want?”
“Information. A story. One big enough to get her some national attention. She wanted to be the next Barbara Walters.” Eddie laughed, a harsh grating sound. “Pretty funny when you think about it. A young beautiful reporter pursuing Super Cop, feeding his middle-age ego, breaking up his marriage, and all for the sake of pillow talk.”
“You mean she started the affair just so she could get information from your father?”
“They say men are the stronger sex, but women have all the power,” Eddie said bitterly. “Especially the good-looking ones.”
John thought unaccountably of Thea. She was undeniably beautiful and she did have power over him. He wanted to believe she was unaware of that power, but he couldn’t be sure she wasn’t using his attraction to her for some reason. Why else had he not gone to her and demanded an explanation about her voice on the 911 tape? Or the button he’d found in Gail Waters’s office?
Why else was he busting his ass, trying to find other suspects in the Waters case?
“Did you see Gail the night she died?” John asked him.
Eddie shook his head. “I buzzed her in, but she never showed up at the door.”
“You didn’t go looking for her? You didn’t wonder what had happened to her? The time it would take for her to enter the front door, climb the stairs and knock on your door couldn’t be more than two minutes, tops. You didn’t think it strange when she didn’t show up?”
“I figured she changed her mind, got cold feet. Then the next day I heard on TV she’d jumped off the roof, for God’s sake.”
“And you never considered coming forward and sharing this information? You used to be a cop, Eddie.”
“Yeah, used to be.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’m giving you the information now…Johnny.”
And the question was, why now? What was Eddie’s angle? Was he deliberately trying to make his father look guilty out of revenge? Or because he was trying to protect someone else? Annette? Himself?
“Why was Miles really coming to see you, Eddie?”
The question seemed to startle him. His bloodshot eyes widened. “I told you, man. We have a business arrangement.”
“He gives you money for the names of a few pennyante pushers. What did you give him for forgetting you were at that frat party seven years ago?”
Eddie licked his lips. “You’re on the wrong track. Gail’s death had nothing to do with seven years ago.”
“What do you have on Miles?”
“Nothing. It’s not like that.”
“Did Miles know Gail, too? Is that it?” It was a stab in the dark, but John thought he might have hit pay dirt. If Liam suspected his own son was somehow involved, what better reason for him to be so resistant to John’s investigation? What better way to call John off than to warn him his own brother could become a suspect if he pursued the case? Was Tony really the one Liam was so worried about?
Was John really so desperate to clear Thea that he was willing to think the worst of his own family?
He knew nothing about the woman. She was almost a complete stranger to him. If she was so innocent, why had she been in Gail Waters’s office last night? Why had she tried to hide her connection to the dead woman? What did Gail Waters have on her?
Someone close to him could be a cold-blooded murderer, John thought, as he left Eddie’s apartment. Miles. Liam. Eddie Dawson and his stepmother. Superintendent Dawson—the Super Cop, as Eddie had called him.
The list was almost overwhelming, but the most daunting name of all was Thea’s. She could be the killer, and for all John knew, Gail Waters hadn’t even been her first victim.
JOHN GOT HOME just after seven that night, and he brought Chinese takeout. Thea’s stomach had been in knots all day, while she waited for him to get back. Because she’d suspected he’d been in her apartment, she hadn’t risked going in to retrieve her money or the IDs, and without either of those, she and Nikki would not last long on the streets. Too many people, including John, would be looking for them.
She set the table as he unloaded the food from the bags, and as she reached over to place a napkin near one of the plates, her hand brushed his. A thrill of awareness shot through her, and when she glanced up, she found his gaze, dark and intense, on her.
Thea shivered, wondering what he was thinking. How much he knew. Should she just confess and get it over with?
Don’t do it, a little voice warned her. He’ll turn you in.
What else could she expect? He was a cop, an officer of the law. He’d have to do the right thing.
But there were extenuating circumstances. Would he understand that?
“Smells good,” she said, straightening from the table and backing away a little.
“So,” John asked, “what have you been doing all day?”
“Trying to keep Nikki occupied.” She paused. “Your sister dropped by and brought her some toys. That was very thoughtful.”
“Fiona has her moments.”
“Actually she stayed with Nikki for a while so that I could run some errands.”
“What kind of errands?”
Thea shrugged. “Nothing special. Nikki and I just needed some things. I really have to get back into my apartment, John.”
He nodded. “How about tomorrow? That soon enough?”
It would have to be. Thea swallowed. “Yes. That’ll be fine.”
“If you’re planning on going back to work, you’ll need your uniforms, won’t you?”
The question sounded innocent, but Thea’s heart immediately began to pound. She started to turn away, but his hand snaked out and grasped her shoulder.
“Don’t do that, Thea.”
“What?” She shivered beneath his touch.
“Don’t turn away. No more evasions. Just tell me the truth. Were you in Gail Waters’s office last night?”
She closed her eyes briefly. “Please don’t ask me that.”
“Dammit—”
She put her hand on his chest, as if to hold him at bay, but in fact, he hadn’t moved any closer. “Don’t ask any more questions, John. Just let Nikki and me walk out that door. You’ll never hear from us again.”
He looked at her incredulously. “Are you out of your mind? Where would you go? How would you live?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“The hell it’s not. Someone tried to break into your apartment last night, Thea. You and Nikki could have been killed. How long do you think the two of you would last on the streets?”
She’d asked herself that same question not more than five minutes ago, but somehow hearing it from him made the prospect seem even more dismal. She had to take care of Nikki, protect her at all costs, but she co
uldn’t do that out on the streets. She couldn’t do it here, with John, either. She’d never felt so trapped in her life.
His other hand came up to grasp her other shoulder, and he held her at arm’s length before slowly beginning to pull her toward him. “You have to level with me here. I can’t help you if you don’t.”
“If I tell you the truth, you won’t be able to help me,” she whispered.
“So what am I supposed to do? Close my eyes? Let you and Nikki walk away?” He drew her toward him, inch by torturous inch. “I can’t do that.”
Thea was suddenly in his arms, and his head lowered swiftly to hers. The kiss was neither gentle nor punishing. It was, quite simply, devastating. Thea’s eyes fluttered closed as she trembled in his arms, and she parted her lips, responding to his urgency. This was the last thing in the world she needed, and yet she couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to stop it.
John was everything she’d ever wanted in a man, she realized with an insight that took her breath away. He was strong and caring, confident enough in his own masculinity to admit to his weaknesses, to let her glimpse beyond his badge and gun to the loneliness and longing that matched her own.
He kissed her as if he would never let her go, and when his arms came around her waist, drawing her even closer, she reveled in his strength. Her hands moved to his chest, but she was no longer trying to hold him at bay. Instead, she flattened a palm over his heart, letting the beat match the wild rhythm of hers.
He broke the kiss to nuzzle her neck, then to whisper heatedly against her ear, “Don’t ask me to let you walk away.”
“You don’t know me,” she whispered back, despite the shiver raging up her backbone. “You don’t know anything about me.”
He drew back to gaze down into her upturned face. His eyes were like blue flames, hot, burning. The eyes of a man deeply aroused. “Then tell me.”
“I…can’t.”
“Thea—”
She backed out of his arms, feeling a chill descend over her heart. “Don’t ask questions you don’t really want the answers to.” She turned at that and walked out of the room without looking back.
DINNER WAS AWKWARD. Thea wasn’t the least bit hungry, but she tried to pretend an appetite for Nikki’s sake. Her daughter was very sensitive to the moods around her, and Thea didn’t want her own anxiety to affect Nikki. She needed to eat and keep up her strength, because the coming days and nights were likely to be trying for both of them.
John barely said two words all through the meal, and afterward, he insisted on cleaning up while Thea gave Nikki her bath. She tucked her daughter into bed and tarried so long over a story that Nikki was sound asleep long before Thea put down the book.
She kissed her daughter’s cheek and then crossed the room on tiptoe, leaving the door ajar so she could hear if Nikki became restless during the night.
There was nothing to do but go out into the living room and face John. Their earlier conversation—not to mention the kiss—had lingered all through dinner until the tension between them had become almost unbearable. And it was still there, in the way Thea reluctantly entered the room, in the way John’s gaze seemed to track her every move.
He’d been sitting in the recliner by the fire, his head back, an arm thrown over his eyes when she’d first come in. She’d thought for a moment he was asleep, but then his arm slid away, and she knew he’d been watching her the whole time.
She shivered, putting her hands out toward the fire. “I’ve been thinking.”
John didn’t say anything, but she heard the leather chair squeak as he got up. She could feel his presence behind her, but she didn’t turn. With the same will that had kept her sane the past four months, she forced herself not to react to his proximity.
“It would be better for all of us if Nikki and I left here. Not tonight,” she said hurriedly. “I have to…pick up some things from the apartment. But tomorrow morning. As soon as possible.”
“As simple as that.”
She turned then and found that he was closer than she’d thought. He was very tall, and he seemed almost overpowering to her at that moment. “It’s not simple,” she said with a sigh. “Nothing about this is simple.”
“You’ve got that right,” he agreed.
“But it is the only way.”
He folded his arms and stared down at her. Firelight danced in his eyes, but the heat she saw now was a mirage. There was no longer passion in those blue depths, only suspicion. “I found a button from one of your uniforms in Gail Waters’s office last night, not to mention the fact that your voice was on the 911 tape.”
Thea closed her eyes briefly. She’d tried to disguise her voice, and had it not been for the button, she was fairly certain she could have pulled it off.
He reached out as if to hold her, then changed his mind and dropped his arms to his side. “Considering all that, I’m just supposed to stand aside and let you walk away without asking any questions? Do you know what you’re asking of me?”
Thea swallowed. “Yes. I do.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t think you have any idea. I’m a cop, for God’s sake, and the moment you went into that office last night, you became a suspect. Do you understand that?”
Her hand crept to her throat in fear. “Are you saying you’re going to arrest me?”
He gave her a withering look. “I’m saying I want some answers. What the hell were you doing in Waters’s office last night?”
“I didn’t kill her, John. I didn’t have anything to do with her death. That Nikki and I got involved at all was just a bizarre coincidence.”
“And your being in her office last night—that was a coincidence, too?” His voice had turned sarcastic, and Thea flinched.
“I can’t tell you why I went there. If I told you—”
“You’d have to kill me, right?”
“That’s not funny,” Thea said angrily. “You don’t understand. I have to think of Nikki.”
“And you think I’m not?” He stared at the fire. “Why won’t you let me help you?”
“Because you can’t. No one can. Please…”
John didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound so hopeless, so beseeching. Thea was a proud woman. She wouldn’t beg for herself, but she would do anything for her daughter. That was one of the things that made her so appealing.
He’d tried to stay away from her, tried to keep his hands off her, but he couldn’t help himself now. He turned to her, trailing the back of his hand down the side of her face. She closed her eyes, trembling.
“What have you done?” he asked her softly.
She drew a long quivering breath. “I didn’t kill Gail Waters,” she said again. “If Nikki and I left, it wouldn’t affect your investigation at all. We don’t know anything. Nikki didn’t see anything.”
“But what if the killer thinks otherwise? Are you willing to take that chance, Thea?”
“I may not have a choice.”
“We all have choices,” John said grimly. “We just may not like the ones we have.”
Chapter Twelve
John insisted that Thea take his bedroom. She’d put up a token argument, but the truth was, she was glad for the privacy. She needed to be alone to sort through her feelings, weigh her options, decide what she should do.
But when she went into the bedroom and found her purse and suitcase lying on John’s bed, the seriousness of her situation hit her again. John had been in her apartment today. He’d taken her suitcase. Had he also found the money? Her papers? Had Morris Dalrimple told him about Nikki’s birth certificate?
Suddenly the guilt and fear of the past four months came crashing down on her, and she felt as if she was smothering. She wanted to tell John the truth. She needed to tell him, but there was danger in that need. If she told him what she’d done, he’d have to make a choice—turn her in or help her escape. Was it fair to put that burden on him?
But if he found out on his own—and he was bound to soo
ner or later—he would hear the Mancusos’ version and the police’s. He wouldn’t know about the extenuating circumstances, the four years of stalking and threats, the constant terror.
All John would know was that she had killed someone. Another cop. And if she’d murdered once, why couldn’t she have done it again? Why shouldn’t John believe that a woman who had shot her ex-husband in cold blood had also gone up to the roof that night and pushed a reporter who knew too much to her death?
Maybe it was better that he hear it from her. Maybe the truth was her only way out now.
Shoving the hair from her face, Thea went back out to the living room. John was lying on the sofa, his arms folded behind his head as he gazed into the fire. He turned his head toward her the moment she walked into the room.
“I need to tell you what happened,” she said quietly.
He wore dark blue sweatpants and nothing else. Thea could see the ripple of muscle in his arms and shoulders as he tossed the blanket aside.
He said nothing, and after a moment Thea gathered her courage and crossed the room to the sofa. He took her arm and pulled her down beside him. There was strength in his touch. Comfort. Thea resisted the urge to lay her head on his shoulder, to let the world fade away in his arms. But that wasn’t meant to be. That couldn’t be.
“My father was murdered five years ago,” she began. “Other than my stepmother, he was the only family I had. We were very close. His death did something to me. I think I went off the deep end for a little while. All I could think about was getting justice for him. Making sure his killer got what he deserved.”
John said nothing. He sat quietly listening to her, his blue eyes unfathomable in the firelight.
“The homicide detective in charge of the investigation was young and very…intense.” Thea shivered, remembering. “He worked on the case tirelessly, night and day, seven days a week. He became almost as obsessed with finding the killer as I was. I guess that obsession somehow drew us together, bonded us…”
“It happens,” John said softly.
The Littlest Witness Page 17