“How are things going, Hal?”
“You never answered my question.”
Eve’s glance bounced from the dark and compelling man at her side to her fair-haired brother. At a loss to explain his behavior, she reached for his arm to draw his attention.
“Rio’s investigating Mom’s death,” she told him, catching the scent of tobacco clinging to his shirt. “We were just talking about the woman who had those visions. Apparently she won’t be of much more help.”
“I know all that. What I want to know is where he gets off following me here. He’s been hounding me all day.”
“I’ve only called you twice,” Rio countered, his tone as reasonable as Hal’s was not. “I don’t believe that qualifies as hounding. And just for the record, I didn’t know you were here. The only car out front—” Cutting himself off, his glance sliced toward the front door and the vehicle parked at the curb. “I thought you drove a Lexus. Is that your Mercedes out there? The silver SL?”
“Am I going to see that on the front page tomorrow? Acting Mayor Buys New Car?”
Hal’s scowl removed the natural affability from his even features. Rio was amazed by the man’s defensiveness. Hal Stuart usually covered himself better than this. The city’s acting mayor was a master at public relations. In the five years Rio had been on the paper, he’d seen the politician portray sincerity, outrage, sympathy and enthusiasm with the skill of an Oscar-winning actor. But the man wasn’t acting now. Noting the pallor beneath his tan, Rio couldn’t help thinking that Hal looked far too tense to make the effort. To him, he looked very much like a man who’d been stretched about as far as he could go and was about to snap.
It also appeared that he wasn’t going to be real cooperative.
“Since you are here,” Rio continued, too practical to waste the opportunity, “you could save me another phone call in the morning. All I want is your statement about the stock you owned in the mining company Olivia was fighting on its lease renewal. As it stands right now, the article that will appear in the morning paper says you couldn’t be reached for comment.” It could easily be changed to “refused to comment,” but he didn’t care to pose that subtle threat. Not with Eve uneasily watching them both. “I can still get your remark in before the paper goes to press tonight.”
Closing his eyes, Hal raked his fingers through his hair, his expression moving from defensive to beleaguered.
“The police have already questioned me about this. I did own stock, but it was a poor choice of investments and I’ve already unloaded it. It’s no secret Mom and I had philosophical differences over the impact of that mine on the environment and the economy here, but it’s ludicrous for anyone to think I’d want her harmed because of it. I wish to hell that someone in this town would use a little logic. Why would I be pushing the investigation of anyone involved with the mine if I was illegally involved myself?
“Look,” Hal muttered, overlooking the fact that he’d revealed more to his sibling in the past minute than he had in the past month. “I’m as convinced as anyone in this town that someone connected with that mining operation is responsible for my mother’s death. Our mother,” he amended, belatedly including his sister. “I just wish the police would get some evidence on whoever it is so this would all be over with.” He paused, looking as if he didn’t know why Rio wasn’t writing any of this down. “You’ve got your statement, Redtree. You can leave now.”
Rio said nothing to Hal. He merely looked at Eve, who at that moment had no idea which of the two men she knew the least. Two minutes ago, she’d have bet her sanity she knew far less about Rio. “Hal,” she began, “Rio didn’t come to get a statement from you. He said he didn’t even know you were here, remember? He came to see Molly.”
Incomprehension flashed over her brother’s features. But any confusion he suffered lasted only long enough for his glance to slide in the general direction of the front porch. Molly had her back to them all, involved as she was with her bear and her dolls.
Hal apparently didn’t need a side-by-side comparison, anyway. His narrowed eyes jerked to the man at Eve’s side, then back to her.
It was obvious to most people that her child’s father was of ethnic blood, but Rio was hardly the only Native American man in town. There had been talk among their family friends since Eve had returned, and speculation, she was sure, about who Molly’s father might be. There always was when an unmarried woman had a child. But her mother, fiercely independent herself, had understood that cutting all ties with the father was sometimes the only way a woman could move on with her life, so Eve’s secret had been safe. Until now.
“I see.”
Without another word, Hal turned on his heel and disappeared through the kitchen. A moment later, having made the loop through the dining and living rooms, he emerged at the opposite end of the foyer near the front door.
His jacket dangled by the middle from his fist.
“I got about halfway through what you wanted me to look at,” he told her, refusing to meet her eyes as he fished his cigarettes out of his shirt pocket. “I don’t know why you’re in such a damn rush to get this done, but if you insist on taking everything to the attorney tomorrow, go ahead.”
The screen opened with a whine, causing Molly to look up from her play. Her sweet “‘Bye, Uncle Hal” drifted in on the early evening breeze, but whether or not Hal answered back, Eve couldn’t tell. He didn’t break stride until he reached his shiny new car. And not until he reached his car did Eve give up the impulse to go after him, whip him around and make him listen while she explained that she was hardly in a damn rush. She’d already been there for nearly three weeks, and she was simply trying to do what needed to be done. The house couldn’t sit there forever. She had other obligations-another life—waiting for her a thousand miles away. Though, as removed from it as she felt, it might as well be a million.
Willing herself to calm down, she turned back to Rio, her glance skimming his chin to settle on the middle button of his black rayon shirt. His chest looked so solid, his arms so strong. And she really hated that what she wanted right then was to feel those arms around her.
She was saved having to wonder where that impossible thought had come from by Rio’s quiet observation.
“I take it he didn’t know.”
“No one did. Other than Mom,” she added, just as the telephone rang.
Eve closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. Telling herself she could deal with all of this just fine if she’d take things one at a time, she set aside her frustration with her brother, put her concern over the police questioning him on hold and excused herself to the man who was in the process of slowly upending her life. Tomorrow, if she had time, she was going to have a nervous breakdown.
Straightening her shoulders, she headed into the living room.
Rio stayed back, watching her pick up the phone by the deeply tufted royal blue sofa. She seemed rattled and worried, and he was pretty sure from the paleness of her delicate skin that she hadn’t slept any better last night than she had the nights before. He was also dead certain she attributed her brother’s abrupt departure to what he’d just put together about the two of them.
He didn’t think she was right, though. He had been watching Olivia’s son for a while now, and he’d bet his laptop that the man had been more concerned just then with how he had embarrassed himself than with the paternity of his niece. Rio had to admit a little ambivalence on that matter, however. Though it would have been his own hide the guy would have gone for, he’d have thought a lot more of Hal had the man shown a little protectiveness toward his sister. Or even a little interest. As it was, when it came to Hal’s treatment of Eve, he was truly beginning to dislike the man.
It appeared that Eve’s conversation was going to take a minute. From what he could make of her end of it, the call had to do with a women’s shelter auction. With her attention occupied, Rio moved into the elegantly understated room, with its rich colors and gleaming maho
gany. He’d never been inside this house until last week. The campus or his apartment had been his and Eve’s world. Even when he’d asked Olivia that last time where Eve had gone, he’d done the asking in her mother’s office downtown. But this had been Eve’s world, too, and it was light-years from the near poverty he’d grown up with.
Had he been the sort of man who craved wealth or possessions, he might have felt resentful or bitter about the disparity. He certainly knew those who would have. Indian and white. But the lure for him had never been material things. He had no need now for anything he didn’t already own. So all he considered as he moved through the room, aware of the fresh flowers Eve had added and the potpourri scenting the air with roses and spice, was that Olivia had done very well for herself.
According to what he’d dug up in the archives, Olivia was a self-made woman. Her husband had died twenty-one years earlier, and she’d managed to put herself through law school, work her way into private practice and then into politics, all while raising her family alone.
His glance skimmed Eve’s slender frame, her crisp white slacks, the navy blouse, the sleekly fashionable haircut. As he moved into the dining room, he listened to her voice, the certainty and sincerity in it. The sweetness. No one would ever have described Olivia Stuart as “sweet.” Tenacious and passionate. Dedicated, definitely. And, in many of those same ways, Eve was definitely her mother’s daughter. The one thing she didn’t have, however, was her mother’s thick skin. When something bothered Eve, it showed.
At least it did to him.
The long mahogany dining table gleamed beneath an ornate brass chandelier. The papers spread over one end caught his attention.
“I’m happy to help,” he heard Eve say, listening unashamedly to her conversation as he picked up a long yellow tablet.
He held the tablet toward Eve, lifting it as he raised his eyebrows in silent question to see if she minded his taking a look at it.
Her response was the slight pinch of her brow, but she didn’t shake her head no, so he turned his attention to the exhaustingly extensive list.
Thinking that these had to be the papers Hal had referred to before he’d split, Rio cast a quick glance across the rest of the documents. Those nearest a vase filled with yellow roses were formal pleadings that Wendall Norton, a local attorney, had prepared for filing with the probate court. Beyond them was the calling card of a real estate agent and an unsigned agreement to list the house for sale. What Rio held appeared to be a list of every item of value in the place. Everything from the crystal sparkling in the china cabinet behind him to every teaspoon, book and trowel in the house, garage and garden shed.
He pulled a breath and slowly released it. He didn’t have to try very hard to remember the day he’d come barging in here with all the finesse of a tank wanting his interview. Eve had been sorting through her mother’s clothes when he’d arrived, and the task had torn her apart. It seemed that she’d since had to go through the entire house.
“If you’re sure that’s what she wanted to donate, I’ll pick one up and drop it by the center this week. No, that’s fine. I can do it myself. I’m sure the electronics store on Juniper has plenty of Blu-ray players. It’s no problem at all.”
She watched him from across the room as she spoke. Hanging up a few moments later, she looked from him to the list he held. The consternation she’d masked during her call reasserted itself.
“That’s private.”
It wouldn’t be once it was filed with the court, but he didn’t mention that. He wasn’t looking for a story. Though he didn’t want to admit it, he just wanted to know what all she was dealing with.
He also wanted to know why she was looking at him as if he’d just pulled the wings off a butterfly.
He set the tablet back on the table. “I didn’t think you minded. I was just looking.”
“Like you were just asking my brother about his car and his stock?”
The accusation in her voice threw him. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Eve, I was doing my job. He’s the one who assumed I’d come here looking for him. I wouldn’t have brought any of that up, if he hadn’t.”
“It doesn’t matter who brought it up.” Crossing her arms, she moved toward him, stopping a cautious arm’s length away. “I just want to know what that was all about. Why would the police treat Hal like a suspect?”
She was truly bewildered. That was easy enough to see. He could also tell, despite the way she’d deliberately lowered her voice, or maybe because of it, that she was more upset than she wanted to let on.
“The police are looking into anything that appears even remotely out of line, Eve. No one is exempt.”
“But he’s family!”
She spoke as if the relationship provided automatic immunity. Hal was family, therefore he was incapable of harming any of its members. While Rio admired her loyalty and idealism, he couldn’t help wondering at her naiveté.
“I take it you don’t catch much of the evening news or crime shows,” he muttered, not particularly proud of how jaded his own thinking had become.
“I have a five-year-old. At our house it’s ‘Princess Jasmine and reruns of ’Dora the Explorer’ all the time. But I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“It has to do with motive. That’s the key to any investigation. The members of the victim’s family are usually the first people the police check out in a murder case. Especially when one of those members isn’t being terribly cooperative. Your brother didn’t even want them to do the autopsy that revealed what had happened to your mother. Remember?”
Of course she remembered. The fact that she hadn’t sided with Hal on that issue hadn’t helped his attitude toward her at all.
“Did it occur to anyone to consider the stress he was under at the time? If he was less than cooperative, it was because it seemed so unnecessary to him to have that awful procedure done on her. If you think he’s not as cooperative as he should be now, maybe it’s because he’s as frustrated as I am with the lack of progress in the investigation. Instead of wasting time looking into his affairs, the police should be out looking for whoever killed our mother. It’s been nearly two months.”
Molly was on the porch. For her daughter’s sake, Eve tried to calm herself. She didn’t want Molly to know she was upset. The little girl never slept well when she knew her mommy was troubled.
“Losing Mom has been hard on him,” she continued, her tone lower even if her level of anger and frustration was not. “Aside from that, I don’t think he’s heard a word from his fiancée since she left. I don’t know if he’s hurt or worried or what he’s dealing with there, but being dumped two minutes before the ceremony would certainly impact a person’s mood. When you add all that to the fact that he’s trying to handle his city council work along with doing Mom’s job, it doesn’t take a degree in psychology to figure out that the stress might be getting to him.”
Her thick bangs slipped down to brush the corner of her eye and the top of her cheek. She started to push them back, but when she lifted her hand it was trembling. Not wanting him to notice, she lowered her hand before it reached her chin and recrossed her arms.
That small show of control got to him.
Had it not been for that effort, he could have stepped back, considered himself chastised and let it go at that. But he knew the stress of all she was dealing with was getting to her, too. It was obvious to anyone who cared to look closely enough. But instead of thinking of her own needs the way her brother seemed to do, she reached beyond herself, graciously handling all that needed to be done and protecting the people she cared about. Her daughter. Her brother.
He didn’t want another connection to her. Sharing a child and needing her as a source were about two too many strings as it was. But Rio understood all too well the need to keep feelings in check. And to protect. Like it or not, that was how he felt toward her. He must have. Otherwise, he’d have put the questions h
e had about her brother to her long before now.
“I understand things aren’t easy for him,” he said, his objectivity firmly in place. The guy really had been dumped on lately, and, despite his thoughts about the way he was treating Eve, Rio kept his mind truly open where Hal was concerned. The chips could fall either way. “It’s just that he raises more questions than he answers, Eve. Take that car he’s driving.” He lifted his hand toward the door, then threaded his fingers through his own hair to keep from pushing her bangs back from her eyes. “How can he afford a new Mercedes on a public servant’s salary? That car’s worth seventy thousand bucks, easy. The Lexus hadn’t been cheap, either. Forty, at least. Is he spending his inheritance already?”
She shot him a disgusted look.
Taking that for a no, he tried again.
“He mentioned investments. Is that how he makes his money?”
She didn’t know. And when Eve admitted that, she also had to admit that yet another facet of her life was no longer what it had once been. She and her brother had never been close, but now it seemed she knew precious little about him. Except for one thing.
“I love my brother, Rio. And he loved Mom as much as I did. He can’t possibly know anything about her murder.”
She spoke with conviction, but what Rio heard was a plea. She wanted him to believe as she believed. Or maybe, he thought, lifting his hand toward her face, she was just trying to find a belief she could hold on to herself.
With the tip of his finger, he drew her bangs away from her eyebrows. Her skin was warm to his touch, and so soft that it almost felt like air.
His fingers lingered at her temple, his palm curving near the side of her face. “For your sake, I hope not,” he said. Feeling her head move almost imperceptibly toward his hand, he pulled away.
Father And Child Reunion Part 2 (36 Hours Serieal Book 6.2) Page 2