Kelsey’s eyes blazed at him. Her hands curled into fists. Her legs tensed as she almost sprung at him. Then, without warning, she burst into long, broken sobs. She bent her head, blinded by tears, unable to speak. Finally Declan pulled her against him. He stroked her hair. ‘Don’t cry, darling girl. Don’t cry. You’re safe.’ He paused and said grudgingly, ‘And Gatsby’s safe too.’ She couldn’t stop crying, burying her head against his soft T-shirt, even as he stooped and released Gatsby from the carrier. Kelsey was dimly aware of the cat dashing to his safe place on the bookshelf. ‘It’s all right. Shhhh. You’re all right,’ Declan crooned to her.
‘I’m a f-fool.’
‘You did something foolish. That’s different from being a fool.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah.’ Declan gently tilted back her head. ‘You have tears all over your face. I don’t suppose you’re carrying a lace-edged handkerchief, are you?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘What a shame. I don’t know what ladies’ manners are coming to these days.’ Kelsey laughed slightly giddily. ‘Why don’t you find some tissues? And may I stay for a few minutes? Or do you want me to get out as soon as possible?’
‘I’d like you to stay. If you want to, that is.’
‘I want to.’
Kelsey went to the bathroom and washed her face. Her eyes were still huge with fright and her skin looked blanched, but only time could repair her appearance. She crept back to the living room, fearing Declan would start yelling at her again. Instead, he was casually perusing her bookshelves.
‘You have eight books about Amelia Earhart,’ he said calmly.
‘Well, ummm, yes. I told you I was fascinated by her.’
‘Also that you wanted to be a pilot.’ He turned, smiling easily at her. ‘Only unlike Amelia, you’d hope to make it home after every flight.’
‘Which is why I never took flying lessons.’ She heard the slight tremor lingering in her voice. ‘I didn’t have enough confidence that I would make it home after every flight. I didn’t think I’d be a good pilot.’
‘You could never have known unless you’d tried.’
‘That’s true. I let doubt stand in my way.’ She tried to smile but her lips trembled. ‘I really want a drink. How about you?’ He nodded. ‘Beer, wine or rum?’
‘I could use a very strong rum and Coke.’
‘Me, too.’
While Kelsey dropped ice cubes into two glasses, she tried to gain control of her unsteady hands. Her armed rescue mission into the alley still didn’t seem quite real, but the presence of Gatsby and Declan in her apartment told her it truly had happened. Thank goodness it had been successful. Dangerously reckless but successful.
As she carried the drinks into the living room, Declan stood near Gatsby, watching the cat methodically washing himself. ‘I would have expected him to be hiding after his experience.’
‘Oh, not Gatsby.’ Kelsey set the glasses on the coffee table and sank on to her sofa. ‘After he’s had a fright, he wants to be on his own special cushion. Then he has a long, leisurely wash and lies quietly, sometimes for hours. He won’t eat until no one is around. Maybe he feels vulnerable when he’s eating. I don’t know all the workings of his complicated mind, but if he was hurt he’d be yowling his head off. He’s not stoic.’ Kelsey took a deep breath. ‘I’m so lucky that he’s all right. Hell, I’m so lucky that he’s even here! I never thought I’d see him again …’
Kelsey’s voice deepened and shook. Declan sat down beside her and took her hand. ‘It’s all over now. He’s home and he’s OK.’
‘And I’m happy, but that makes me feel guilty.’
‘Why?’
‘How can I feel happy when Eve was murdered so brutally, so needlessly—’
‘Stop!’ Declan picked up her glass and held it to her lips. ‘Drink!’ She took a gulp of the strong rum and Coke, almost choked, then recovered. ‘Do you feel up to telling me about your evening and how you found Gatsby in the alley?’
‘I guess,’ she said reluctantly. Within a minute, though, she was describing the night when she’d first seen the man smoking a cigarette in the alley, his hood pulled up, and singing ‘Gimme Shelter’ as he walked away. Then she told him about tonight when she’d heard the singing again, then looked from the window to see the carrier in the middle of the alley and heard Gatsby’s loud, frightened meowing.
After she’d finished, Declan looked at her and asked carefully, ‘Are you sure it was “Gimme Shelter” the man was singing?’
‘Don’t look at me that way!’ she flared. ‘I know it sounds ludicrous, but I’m absolutely sure.’
‘Did you tell Pike about the first time you saw the guy?’
‘Yes, I did. Eve convinced me to do it, although I was afraid he’d think I was imagining the singing. If he did, he didn’t act like it.’
‘Does the song have a special meaning to you?’
‘No, except that I like it. But a lot of people like it. It’s still popular even though it’s been around for decades.’
‘Was the voice singing it at all familiar?’
‘No.’
‘Was the voice tonight the same as the voice the first time?’
‘Yes,’ Kelsey said definitely. ‘Only tonight he sang, “Death is just a breath away … Sister, death is just a breath away.” I don’t think that’s a line from the song.’
‘Someone was improvising?’
‘Maybe. Or he just got the lyrics wrong.’
‘Why do you think Gatsby was taken?’
‘To torture me.’ Kelsey took another gulp of her drink and said, ‘It sounds paranoid and narcissistic, but I think I’ve been at the root of everything that’s happened – Lori’s death, Grandfather’s death, and Eve’s death.’
‘You?’ Declan said softly. ‘Why you?’
‘I have no idea, but I know one person is behind all the terrible things that have happened and they’re meant to be a prelude to my death. Gatsby was taken as a reminder of that to me.’
Kelsey was aware of Declan going completely still. She felt blood creeping to her cheeks and she couldn’t look at him. ‘I know I sound crazy.’
‘Not crazy. Stricken. Overwhelmed. Responsible. But Kelsey, you are not responsible for someone else’s actions. You’re only responsible for your own, and you didn’t murder Lorelei and Eve. We don’t know that anyone planned to murder your grandfather. We only know someone set fire to the barn.’
‘In order to burn three horses to death – three horses my family loved. And they then threw kerosene over Grandfather.’
Declan sighed. ‘Kelsey, maybe these tragedies have nothing to do with you specifically. Maybe they have something to do with your father. Have you ever thought of that?’
‘My father? What has he done to anyone?’
‘He’s the head of a huge corporation. People in positions of power like him make enemies, no matter how sterling their morals, how high-minded their intent.’
Kelsey looked away from Declan and sipped her drink, thinking. ‘Lori’s murder, Grandfather’s death … When they happened, it never occurred to me that the two were connected. It wasn’t until Eve’s murder and someone taking Gatsby that I saw a thread linking everything. But tracing it back to something Dad did concerning March Vaden – well, I still don’t see it. I know you do, though. You think someone is striking back at Dad and Grandfather because they were responsible for sending Teddy Blakemore to prison.’
‘Blakemore was a fool for trying to get a foothold in March Vaden. Delusions of grandeur. Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.’
‘You’re quoting the Bible now?’
‘Teddy should have read Proverbs.’
‘What about Stuart?’
‘I haven’t made my mind up about him yet.’ Declan looked at his empty glass. ‘May I have a refill, just as strong?’ He grinned, the shallow lines appearing around his dazzling blue eyes. ‘I didn’t realiz
e I was drinking so fast.’
‘My glass is empty, too. Don’t be embarrassed.’
As she walked toward the kitchen, Declan said, ‘I noticed you’re wearing a U2 Joshua Tree T-shirt. Would you happen to have the CD?’
‘Of course. I love U2. I guess that dates me to my parents’ generation.’
‘It shows that you have good taste. It’s a classic.’
After Kelsey placed the fresh drinks on the coffee table, she slipped the Joshua Tree CD into her stereo. In a moment, ‘The Streets Have No Name’ filled the room. Gatsby stopped washing himself and stared at Declan, who began lustily singing along with Bono. Kelsey giggled and, slightly woozy from the rum, loudly joined in. When the song ended, she laughed. ‘I’m glad I don’t have neighbors or they would have called the police by now!’
‘I thought we were great. We should form a band.’
‘I don’t play an instrument. Do you?’
‘The guitar. A little.’
‘I should have known. You’re a surfer, guitarist and private detective. Was your father proud of you?’
‘He liked the surfing and the guitar playing.’ Declan paused. ‘I became a cop when I was twenty-one. He did not like that. He saw law enforcement as mundane grunt work, not the career for a son of the creative genius Grant Harrington.’
‘Why did you leave the force to become a private investigator?’
Slowly Declan’s expression changed from nonchalant to serious. ‘I don’t like to talk about it.’
‘Then don’t. I’m sorry for asking. It’s none of my business.’
Declan took another sip of his drink and looked into her eyes. ‘Maybe it would do me good to talk about it – with you, that is.’ His gaze shifted. ‘I went to California when I was eighteen and joined the police force in Los Angeles when I was twenty-one. I came back to New York City when I was twenty-three and later joined the NYPD. Four years after that, I had a young partner named Juan. He was very green but he had so much drive, such dedication. He wanted to be the very best. One January we had the evening shift, and I had a bitch of a cold. The sleet was so heavy the windshield wipers could barely keep up with it. I was coughing and sneezing and shivering. It seemed like every joint ached. Juan insisted on stopping to get me some coffee. I didn’t argue too much. I could have done without the coffee, but I really wanted it.
‘When we stopped, he went into a bodega. I should have gone in, cold or no cold. Anyway, he walked right into a robbery in progress. He killed one of the guys and saved the clerk, but the second guy got Juan in the chest. He made it through a serious operation, and his wife was ecstatic. They had two little boys – one was two and the other one, my godson, was nine months. Then Juan developed blood clots that went to his brain – one after another until finally he was on life support. His poor young wife had to give the order to pull the plug.’ Declan looked at Kelsey, tears brimming in his beautiful eyes. ‘Juan was dead, his wife widowed and emotionally scarred beyond belief, and two little boys orphaned, all because I wanted a cup of coffee. I quit the force the next week.’
Kelsey barely remembered wrapping him in her arms and pulling him to her. As they kissed slowly, she felt as if she were melting into his strength, his warmth, his gentleness. When she woke up the next morning, she was still holding him as they lay tangled on the sofa. Soft morning light filtered through the blinds and fell on his face, which looked handsome and strong yet younger and vulnerable in sleep. Gently she kissed his cheek then cuddled against him, realizing that for the first time in weeks she didn’t feel bereft anymore. Death seemed far, far away at that moment.
Kelsey hadn’t been embarrassed or uncomfortable wrapped around Declan. He just smiled lazily and asked, ‘Did I snore?’
‘No,’ she answered. ‘Do you usually?’
‘I don’t think so. I just talk.’
‘If you talked, I didn’t hear it.’ Kelsey had smiled and kissed his forehead. ‘That’s the best night’s sleep I’ve had for ages. Thank you.’
They’d gone out for breakfast and spent the rest of the day together. Declan had even gone to the veterinarian’s with her when she took Gatsby in to make certain he hadn’t suffered any physical trauma from his abduction. Later they ate dinner at Ruby’s Steakhouse and talked about music, movies and their childhoods – anything except the murders.
The next morning, they slept late then lay in bed, their bodies close together. Kelsey reached down and touched a scar on Declan’s abdomen. ‘What happened here?’
‘When I was seven, Mom and I visited her brother one winter. I have three cousins – all male, all show-offs, all older than I was, and all scathing about my “city boy” upbringing. When eight inches of snow fell within twenty-four hours, they dragged out their sled. Each one sailed down a hill, laughing and triumphant. They bullied me into trying it. I went down terrified, flipped the sled, and one of the blades cut me.’
‘Ouch!’ Kelsey yelped.
‘It would have been worse if I hadn’t been wearing so many clothes. I managed not to cry. My uncle rushed Mom and me to the hospital. I only needed six stitches but I thought my mother was going to have a nervous breakdown. We never visited them again.’
‘No wonder!’ She leaned down and gently kissed the scar. Then her gaze traveled over his long, lean muscled body with its golden tan. She ran her finger over a slender scar on his chest. ‘And this?’
‘I was in a bar one evening having what I thought was a friendly disagreement with a guy about politics. All at once he picked up his glass, broke it, and slashed me. He was a lot drunker than he seemed.’ Declan paused, grinning. ‘And I was a cop.’
‘Oh, bad news for him!’
‘You bet.’
She kissed that scar. Her hand drifted over what looked like a bite mark beneath his left nipple. ‘And this? Or should I not ask?’
‘It’s a bite mark, all right. I got it from one very bad-tempered Chihuahua that belonged to Grant.’
‘Your father had a Chihuahua?’
‘Yeah. I know it seems like an intrepid photographer of big game should have had a Doberman or Pit Bull, but he was partial to Chihuahuas.’ Kelsey’s cell phone rang. ‘Oh, damn, I have about ten other war wounds I was going to show you!’
‘I don’t think my heart could take it.’ She laughed, picking up the phone. ‘Hello?’
‘Hello, Kelsey. Feeling well this morning? Or are you tired from your night with Declan Adair?’
‘Brad.’ Kelsey went cold. She felt Declan raise up on an elbow beside her. ‘To what do I owe the honor of this call?’
‘I’m just checking on you. Friends can do that, can’t they? Make sure all’s well?’
‘Where have you been? Not at home.’
‘No, not at home. I know Adair has been looking for me. Pike, too. I’m a popular guy, especially when you’re telling them I’m a murderer.’
‘I didn’t say you were a murderer.’
‘But you let them know you suspect me of killing Eve. Have you told them I killed Lori and your grandfather, too? There is a law against slandering someone’s good name, Kelsey. I ought to know. I’m a lawyer. An unemployed lawyer, thanks to you and your father, but a lawyer nevertheless.’
By now Declan was sitting up in bed, his head close to hers as she held the phone slightly away from her ear. ‘Where have you been? In hiding?’
‘In hiding?’ Brad laughed. ‘My, you are a flatterer, Kelsey.’ She didn’t answer. ‘I wasn’t hiding. I just needed solitude so I could think.’
‘Oh. Solitude. That does sound better than hiding. So what were you thinking about?’
‘About all the damage you’ve done to my life. I know you’ve hated me since I was a teenager. You dated me to set me up for a terrible fall. Mother told me, although I’d already figured it out for myself. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, Kelsey.’
‘Your mother doesn’t know anything, Brad. If someone has damaged your life, it’s her.’
�
�I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree about that. Anyway, I just wanted to let you – and Adair and Pike – know that I’ve moved back into my house again. They don’t need to drive past every hour. The fugitive has been run to ground and I have no intention of going anywhere for a few days with one exception. I’ll see you at Eve’s funeral, Kelsey. I certainly wouldn’t want to miss it.’
EIGHTEEN
The day Lori was buried the day had been unbelievably beautiful. Saturday, the day of Eve’s funeral, dawned low, gray and flat. Even at eleven o’clock, the air was thin and close. Standing by the graveside, Kelsey felt as if she’d been shut in a metal box.
She and her father had chosen a rose-granite headstone with the engraving EVE SARAH DALEY, CHERISHED FRIEND along with her birth and death dates. The stone would not be ready for three weeks, so for now Eve’s grave bore only flowers from her few friends. Knowing she wouldn’t have the plethora of floral tributes that had been sent when Lorelei was buried, Truman and Kelsey had ordered extra flowers, which were dwarfed by a blanket of pink roses, carnations, orchids and lilies from Stuart. She’d spent the night before the funeral with her father, who seemed even more shaken than when Lori had been murdered.
As the minister delivered the service, Kelsey glanced around at the mourners, whose number was pitiful compared with how many had come to Lori’s funeral. Nina, wearing a dress as gray as the day, cried into a handkerchief as her husky, red-haired husband kept his arm tightly around her as if she might fall. Isaac Baum had come alone looking decorous in a dark suit, his rim of black hair slicked down, his expression mournful. Kelsey had been surprised to see Giles Miller. She’d thought he’d stay home with his mother, but he’d arrived looking pale and almost ethereal in a light blue suit that matched his large eyes and nearly platinum-blonde hair – so like the color of Lori’s – cut short above his ears but long with silky curls on top. Stuart seemed to have lost ten pounds since Monday. His cheekbones were more prominent than ever and his gray eyes lightless. His movements were slow and vague, as if he were in a dream. Finally, Kelsey glanced at Rick Conway, taller than anyone present, his face somber beneath the glossy brown hair. She knew he’d come to pay tribute to a frequent customer he’d liked. Kelsey remembered him laughing and joking when she’d come to Conway’s in the evenings with Stuart and Eve. Seeing him without Janet by his side seemed strange. In her mind, they’d become a team, although they hadn’t been married or even dating. Today, Janet was probably in Atlanta with the abusive husband she seemed unable to leave.
Just a Breath Away Page 26