by Rebecca Deel
“No,” Micah said, his tone hard, flat. “Did talk of them having a baby bother you?”
“What do you think? I would have given her anything she wanted, including a child.”
“With your wife’s money after you dumped her.”
Sophie patted Micah again. Time to push this interview in a different direction. “Did Sierra show interest in the Twisted Sisters, Gabe?”
“Some. She complained about the quality of the picture I provided and asked me to bring the Sisters by so she could take a better picture herself.”
“When did you bring them?”
“A few days later. Look, why are we rehashing something that’s not important? None of this had anything to do with Sierra’s death. It was a tragic accident.”
“You never know what might turn out to be the piece of information that breaks a case,” Micah said. “Were the pearls out of your sight at any time?”
“Sierra took them into her art studio to photograph them. Better lighting. What’s the matter? Is there a problem with the pearls?”
“Would it be possible for us to see them?” Sophie asked. “We’re delivering the last portraits Sierra worked on. It’s hard to let the last of her art go.” She had to examine the pearls for authenticity. She was more familiar with fine gems than pearls, but maybe her experience with Sierra’s interests would be enough to help her determine their attraction to her sister. “Please, Gabe. As a last gift to Sierra.”
He studied her face a moment. For the first time, Sophie regretted that she and her sister had been identical twins. Seeing her face, so familiar yet not, must be painful for him.
Gabe inclined his head. “Wait here. They’re in the safe.”
#
Micah urged Sophie to sit again as soon as Gabe’s footsteps receded in the distance. “Nice work. Will you be able to tell if the Sisters are real?”
“My specialty was fine gems, but I know a few things about pearls from one of my aunts. I should be able to feel the difference. If nothing else, I might be able to determine if Sierra would have found this version of the Sisters interesting enough to pursue.” She leaned back against the couch cushions with a wince.
He frowned. Her back must be hurting. Wonder if she’d let him rub her back tonight? Yeah, he had it bad when the possibility of giving this woman a back rub made his hands itch to get started. Micah sat beside her and patted his thigh. “Put your feet up here. Your ankles are swelling.”
“I would have noticed that if I could see my feet.” Sophie kicked off her shoes and draped her legs across his thighs. “You don’t have to do this.”
“It’s something I can do now to help. I can’t carry Junior for you.” He began massaging her feet and ankles. “My turn comes after he’s born.” Micah worked in silence for a couple minutes. “Have you chosen a name for him?”
“Nathan David.”
He stilled. Hands still cradling one foot, his attention shifted from Sophie’s ankles to her face. His vision misted. She planned to name the boy after Micah’s brother.
Sophie bit her lower lip. “If you don’t like that, we can choose another. I thought I was carrying David’s son.”
“It’s a good name, baby, one he’ll be proud to have when he’s older. Nathan David Winter.”
“Not Nate.”
No. He smiled at her fierce tone. “Nathan.” Micah couldn’t help it. He leaned in and kissed her. Sophie Valero got to him faster than any woman alive.
“Well, make yourself right at home. I was hoping you would have left already.”
The brittle voice shattered the shared moment. Sophie tensed and started to shift her feet to the floor. Micah, easing back from her lips, tightened his grip on her legs and resumed his massage. “We appreciate your hospitality, Mrs. Ross.”
“Why are you still here?” She directed her question to Sophie. “I don’t want you in my home.”
“We’re delivering your birthday gift.” Micah drew her attention away from Sophie.
“I don’t want anything in this house connected to Sierra Winter.” Her gaze swept back to the woman at his side, leaving no doubts she included Sophie in her sentiments. “Get out and take that painting with you. If you leave that commercial trash here, I will burn it.”
“You hated Sierra that much?”
“The happiest day of my life was May 23.”
Micah’s eyes narrowed. The day David and Sierra crashed on that mountainside near Gatlinburg. “Where were you at the time of the accident, Mrs. Ross?”
Her eyebrows rose. “You think I had a hand in Sierra’s death? Not likely since I was touring well-known castles in England at the time. My tour group included twelve women from my country club so I have plenty of witnesses. I will tell you this, though. If I had been on that mountain and seen the accident, I would have tracked down the other driver involved and given him or her a reward.”
“Shut up, Dani.” Gabe scowled at his wife, a velvet covered box in one hand. “You don’t want to say things like that. Someone might get the wrong idea.”
Dani laughed. “Wrong idea? I spoke the truth, darling. I wanted that little tramp dead.”
“He’s a cop, sweetheart. He might not appreciate your wicked sense of humor.”
“Who said I was kidding? Stop whining, Gabriel. I was out of the country.”
“Doesn’t mean you weren’t involved, Mrs. Ross.” Amusement drained from her face and left behind a mix of hatred and contempt. “You have money and connections. How hard would it be to hire someone to do the job for you? Maybe your husband got rid of Sierra and David by your instruction.”
Dani rolled her eyes. “Get real. Gabe can’t even kill a spider much less kill the woman he loved.” A sneer marred her picturesque face. “He’s not man enough to do the deed.”
Gabe’s gaze cut to Micah before returning to his wife. “Dani, please. Shut up.”
“I want them out of my house. Now. And make sure they take that trash with them or I’ll burn it. I’ll deal with you later.” She turned on her heel and stalked from the room, the scent of gardenias lingering in her wake.
Gabe licked his lower lip. “Don’t pay attention to her. She runs her mouth when she’s angry. She didn’t mean any of it. Dani’s mad, wants to get back at me.”
Gabriel Ross did the same when he was angry. Micah held out his hand for the white velvet box. Lid open, the pearls glowed in the natural light. Fake or not, the Twisted Sisters were beautiful. For a moment, he wondered about Sophie’s taste in jewelry. Did she like the glitz Sierra preferred? He’d love to see her decked out once, but he didn’t see Sophie as that kind of woman. A simple diamond instead of the crown jewels was more her style. Class all the way. He handed the box to Sophie.
Her hand hovered above the intertwined strands of pearls. “May I? I’d love to hold the Sisters.”
Gabe shrugged.
Micah studied the cowed husband while Sophie examined the pearls. He considered what drew Gabe and Dani together in the first place. Money and looks, he decided. From the research he’d read, Dani Ross was loaded. A trust fund baby, she’d never held down a job. Her father, Web Carter, owned a shipping conglomerate that rivaled UPS and FedEx. Rumors in Nashville’s business community reported company profits would soon be the size of a G-8 nation’s GDP. Thanks to a crack management team, Dani reaped the profits and never crossed the threshold of Carter Transport.
Gabe, on the other hand, was an entrepreneur. He’d opened a chain of delis across the country. Company financial reports indicated he’d gotten greedy and expanded too fast. Hence the need to marry an heiress and rescue his shaky empire.
As far as Micah was concerned, the two deserved each other. Their marriage had been one of convenience from the start. From the look of things, their relationship had gone from being friends to something ugly.
“Well?” Gabe watched Sophie with an intensity that made Micah tighten his grip on one leg and slid the other hand toward his holstered weapon. “Did
you find anything wrong with the pearls?”
Sophie placed the pearls back in the box and handed it to him. “Thank you. What do you want to do about the painting?”
Micah eased her to a sitting position, retrieved her shoes, and slipped them on her feet.
Gabe’s gaze shifted to the painting he’d left propped against the wall. “I’ll walk you out and lay it in my car for now. I’ll have it framed and hang it in my office. My vindictive little wife never goes there. The thought of Dani burning Sierra’s work makes me want to hurl.”
“You knew how your wife would feel,” Micah said as he helped Sophie put on her coat. “What did you plan to do with it?”
“I just wanted an excuse to see Sierra again.” His voice dropped to a near whisper as they approached the foyer. Their movements and voices echoed along the walls toward the staircase. “This was as good a reason as any other.” Carrying the portrait in one hand, he opened the door and ushered them outside. “If Sierra had changed her mind about us, I wouldn’t have had to worry about what Dani thought or her reaction.”
“David wasn’t there?”
“Of course not.” Gabe waited until the door closed behind him. “Couldn’t plead my case with her husband in the next room.”
“Guess not.” Knowing David, his brother would have decked Gabriel Ross for hitting on his wife. He glanced at the woman beside him. Yeah, he knew how his brother would have felt. Micah would clock Gabe Ross in a heartbeat if he tried to take Sophie. “Did you worry about the money?”
“What money?”
“You married Dani for money, Ross. If you divorced her for Sierra, Dani would have cut you off without a cent.”
“Money isn’t an issue. I signed a prenuptial agreement. If Dani and I divorce, her lawyers cut me a check for $5 million.”
Huh. Hadn’t seen that one coming. “I may have more questions for you, Ross. Be available.”
“Yeah, sure.” He unlocked his vehicle and stored the painting in the trunk. After closing the lid, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his checkbook. “Sierra and I agreed on $5,000. Maybe you can use the money to settle one of Sierra’s debts or something.”
“Thanks.”
With a nod, Micah escorted Sophie to his SUV. He circled the vehicle and settled in the driver’s seat. “You okay?”
“What was Sierra thinking? Gabe is a first class wuss. I can’t imagine her being attracted to him except on a superficial level. Maybe it was the $5 million and the forbidden fruit aspect of their relationship. At least she wised up with her taste in men.”
Micah chuckled at the disgust in her tone as he put the Tahoe in motion. “No argument from me. Guess she preferred a real man when she looked for a mate. David was a prince.” His voice grew husky. “Strong, noble, unique.”
“All the Winter men are princes.”
He blinked. An emotion he didn’t want to define unfurled in his chest. “Princes without a $5 million trust fund. What did you learn about the pearls?”
“They’re real.”
“How do you know?”
“I rubbed a couple together. They were gritty which is what you’d expect for natural pearls. The surface is not smooth and the pearls were slightly different sizes. Though they look like the genuine article, there’s no way for me to know if these pearls are the original ones called the Twisted Sisters. I’d need insurance documentation and the Sisters for comparison.”
“One of our researchers could locate the documents if we need them.”
Sophie shook her head. “Gabe loved Sierra. I can’t see him hiring someone to kill her.”
The corners of his mouth curled. “And he’s a wuss.”
“Perfect description.”
He agreed with her assessment on the whole. Spurned love or obsession caused people to act in strange ways. “Dani could have hired someone to kill Sierra and David happened to be with her at the time.”
“Why bother? Dani already has the divorce price covered and, based on what I already know about her, it’s a drop in the bucket compared to what she’s worth. She may have hated my sister, but Sierra loved David. My sister was crazy about your brother. She wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her marriage.”
“Except steal jewelry,” he said.
“Except that,” Sophie agreed. She slumped lower in the seat, stretching her legs in front of her. “Stealing jewelry isn’t the same as stealing Dani’s husband. Why any woman would want to is a mystery to me. And the divorce settlement wouldn’t last long. Gabe’s used to a jet-setting lifestyle now. Did he expect Sierra to support him when the money ran out?”
He grinned at her tart tone. A flash in his rearview mirror drew Micah’s attention. A black sedan turned onto Sunset Drive, trailing him. He’d noticed the car a few blocks back and it had stayed with them. Coincidence? Maybe. He wasn’t betting Sophie’s safety on it.
He tightened his grip, made sure Sophie’s seatbelt was fastened. Micah took the next right, checked the mirror. Yep, their black shadow followed them. He didn’t want to do this with Sophie in the car. No choice, though. This might be the perfect opportunity to discover who endangered his woman and son. “Sit up, baby.”
She struggled to an upright position. “What’s wrong?”
“Company.”
“Great. Which one? The thug or the gang?”
He smiled. Sarcasm beat the panic most women in this situation would have exhibited. “Not sure. I doubt it’s the gang, though. Wrong kind of vehicle. Too sedate for them.”
“What do we do?”
He shook his head at her calm, logical question. Nothing much rattled Sophie Valero. His admiration for her ratcheted up another notch. “You do nothing. I plan to chat with our shadow. Hold on.”
Micah whipped the wheel to the right, stomped on the gas and shot down another street. Before their tail turned the corner, he steered into an alley, down a side street, slammed on the brakes and quickly backed the SUV into a darkened alley. And he waited.
Less than a minute later, the black sedan crawled down the side street. Behind tinted glass, the driver searched each side of the street for the Tahoe. Micah studied the interior of the vehicle as the sun slanted through the windshield. One person unless someone else was hidden in the backseat. Seconds before the sedan reached the alley where he and Sophie waited, Micah floored the accelerator and cut off the other vehicle.
Micah drew his weapon and opened the door. “Stay inside.” With armored plating and bullet-resistant glass, Sophie was surrounded by a lot of protection. Otherwise Micah would have followed the idiot around until he led them somewhere significant.
He aimed the barrel of his weapon at the driver. “Out of the car now. Hands where I can see them.”
The driver opened the door with slow motions. “You don’t want to do this. You’re letting yourself in for a lot more grief than you realize.”
“Show me your hands.” Micah barked the order as well as any drill sergeant in the Marines. Dan Winter would have been pleased.
Cursing, the man lifted his hands, one clutching a credentials wallet that looked all too familiar. Micah clenched his jaw. He already knew where this interview was going. Pretty much nowhere. “I’m a cop, man.” He climbed out of the vehicle, still ensconced behind the door. His military-short blond hair gleamed in the brilliant sunlight.
“Toss me your ID.”
Micah grabbed the wallet one handed. “Do not move. Keep your hands on top of your car door.” He flipped open the black case and scanned the contents. Another of Metro Nashville’s finest. No surprise. He’d figured as much when he saw the wallet.
Micah lowered his weapon, threw the wallet on the cop car’s roof. “Why are you following me, Officer Shelton?”
“Orders.”
“Whose?”
The clenched jaw remained closed.
Didn’t think he’d volunteer the information. Not that it mattered. Only one cop in Nashville had pinned a target on Micah’s back t
his week. “Tell Abbott I said hello.”
Shelton’s eyes widened. “I, uh, yes, sir.”
Nice to know he was right. The two stared at each other a moment. Micah raised one eyebrow. Another round of cursing from Shelton before he snatched his ID. from the roof, climbed into the car and left with a squawk of his tires.
He waited until the black sedan turned right at the corner and disappeared from sight. After a slow surveillance of the area, Micah sat behind the wheel and belted in.
“This is ridiculous,” Sophie said. “It’s bad enough the criminals are after us. Why are the police following us?”
He nosed the SUV into the side street and followed the same path the sedan had taken. Turning left onto Lakewood, Micah said, “Abbott’s digging for dirt. He wants proof I’m a dirty cop.”
“So he gets a medal for showcasing the dirt?”
“Something like that. Nobody likes a dirty cop, baby. They give all of us a bad rep.” He pulled out his cell and punched in Brent’s number. Micah accelerated onto Interstate 24. He hadn’t spotted any other tails, but he could almost feel the gaze of another one. Made his neck itch.
“What?” Brent’s tone mirrored the impatience in his clipped greeting.
“Abbott sent a bloodhound after us.”
“Not a good one since you spotted him.”
“You’re a riot, buddy, but correct. He was a rookie.”
“You must not be a priority.”
“Or Abbott thinks I’m a lousy Secret Service agent.” Micah’s hand tightened on the wheel. He scanned the rearview and side mirrors. Still no sign of another tail. Abbott couldn’t have enough manpower to assign two officers to watchdog detail. That left Sophie’s thug or the gang gunning for him. Neither possibility made him happy, but he preferred the thug’s surveillance. At least he wouldn’t interfere or cause Sophie harm. Yet.
“That would make him an idiot.”
“Anyone sitting on him?”
“They just checked in. Abbott’s at a crime scene across town from your location.”
Huh. He should have figured that before now. Made him wonder if he’d lost a step since being on medical leave. “You’ve got a tracer on us.”