by Rita Herron
“I’ll pay you back,” she said again, her voice even steelier.
A muscle tightened in his jaw again, but he didn’t look at her until they’d pulled into her drive and he’d cut the engine. Then he reached out and touched her hair.
She shrank back. “Don’t.”
He drew his hand away, his eyes filled with an emotion she thought might be hurt, worry. Even concern. But how would she know? Their relationship had been built on lies.
“I tried to get you out of there last night, Sydney, I swear I did, but the judge was out of town.” He paused as if he was hoping she’d say something, but she gripped the door handle, fighting to keep her emotions at bay.
He continued, his expression troubled, “I’ve set up a meeting to see Steve Wallace today. And I’ve also called my friend in Charleston. He’s going to help us.”
Sydney cleared her throat, “There is no ‘us,’ Collin.”
“Damn it, Sydney, I care about you.” He reached for her again. “You have to believe that. I could never have made love to you like that if I didn’t care—”
“Stop it!” She threw open the car door, her throat clogging with grief. “I don’t have to believe anything you say. You not only have Doug’s eyes, you have his character flaws. You’re a liar, just like he was.”
“Sydney, that’s not true, I love—”
“I appreciate all you’ve done, but please leave, Collin. I won’t be a fool again. It’s cost me too much already.” She ran up the sidewalk, the sobs she’d tried to hold in all night racking her body. Kelly’s lights were on, and she started to go to her place, to cry on her friend’s shoulder. But the humiliation of being carted off in a police car overwhelmed her. She couldn’t face her friend yet. She just wanted to be alone.
Chapter Thirteen
“I’m going to prove you wrong,” Collin muttered to the closed door, Sydney’s rejection tearing him apart. He surveyed Sydney’s yard, the debris and yellow police tape a reminder of the explosion. She wanted him to leave her alone, but how could he when he knew she was in danger?
He couldn’t. But he also couldn’t sleep on the sidewalk, and Sydney obviously wouldn’t invite him back into her house for the night. Remembering the rental-car company around the corner, he started walking, letting the evening breeze and fresh air revive his battered body and mind. A few minutes later he’d rented a small station wagon. He called Sam, but had to leave a message, then went back to the precinct to see if Raeburn had discovered anything more. The only thing he managed to learn was that Roxy DeLong had an alibi for the night of Doug’s murder. A dead end. But he still didn’t know about Gina Waters.
He grabbed a hamburger from a fast-food place, picked up some extra clothes and toiletries at a small department store, then parked the car near Sydney’s, situating it behind a big willow tree so she couldn’t see him. While he chewed the tasteless burger, he listed all the suspects involved in the case, wondering which one of them had killed Green. Or if the killer was even on the list.
Damn. Green certainly had enough enemies. Collin wished Green was still alive so he could beat the hell out of him for hurting Sydney.
SYDNEY STRUGGLED with the feeling of violation she experienced when she saw that the police had done a thorough search of her home. Adrenaline pumping through her, she cleaned each room, putting everything back in order. After practically scrubbing her skin raw in the shower to rid herself of the stench of jail—and the lingering scent of Collin—she dressed for bed, then checked her messages from the studio.
Three people had canceled appointments for portraits. She’d scheduled very few bookings since Doug had died to give herself some time to grieve, but the news of her arrest had probably spread quickly. People obviously didn’t want a murderer photographing their children. She couldn’t blame them, but she’d thought the people in town were her friends. Anger knotted her stomach at the unfairness. With a surge of fury, she tackled her closet, determined to discard anything even remotely associated with Doug.
Three hours later with a stack of his clothes and other personal items moved to the extra bedroom, she crawled into bed. Tomorrow she would talk to Grady Jackson. The town lawyer, she hoped, could advise her what to do. But the police had to find the real murderer, and if Raeburn believed she’d killed Doug, he would have given up the search. Was Collin really going to help her?
The telephone shrilled and Sydney froze, then realized it might be the lawyer returning her call, so she picked up the receiver.
“I warned you to leave Doug’s murder alone,” the gruff voice said.
Sydney’s heart stopped beating. “Who is this? Why are you doing this to me?”
“You’d better listen or you’re going to regret it.” Then the voice clicked into silence and Sydney exhaled, her hand trembling as she put down the receiver.
She considered phoning the police and reporting the call, but remembered the officer’s reaction the last time she had. Instead, she turned on the lamp and stared at the ceiling, listening for any sounds of an intruder, wishing that Collin was there to protect her through the night.
A feeling of hopelessness invaded her and she closed her eyes, too exhausted even to cry. She’d thought she lived in a town where people took care of one another, had wanted to raise a family here, but the town no longer held the appeal. Someone here wanted to see her rotting in jail or dead. And she didn’t know whom to trust or turn to.
Except Collin. He’d said he believed her. But he’d slept with her to find out more about Doug’s death. Still, he said he suspected someone was framing her. Was he telling the truth or using their relationship as a ploy to persuade her to tell him more, hoping to trap her? Had he believed she’d murdered Doug at first and then changed his mind?
The worry and stress of the day drained her of energy and hope, and she finally drifted to sleep. But she tossed and turned all night, her dreams haunted by visions of Doug and blood, Collin and fire, and a small cell where she might spend the rest of her life.
COLLIN DOZED OCCASIONALLY, keeping tabs on Sydney’s house during the night When morning came, he decided he had to get busy. The sooner he cleared Sydney’s name, the sooner he could straighten out their personal relationship. After checking into a hotel, he quickly showered and dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a dress shirt. He wanted to look presentable to talk to Steve Wallace.
Thirty minutes later he’d made the drive and sat in the plush waiting room, listening with interest as the receptionist transferred calls to the various employees and smoothly answered calls about the delay of the weight-loss product hitting the market.
Finally Wallace escorted him into his office. The man’s expensive suit and lavish office fit the image of a high-profile company.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Cash?” Wallace leaned back in his leather chair and crossed one leg over the other.
“I’m investigating Doug Green’s murder.”
“I see.” Wallace rolled a gold pen between his fingers. “I’ve already told that other detective everything I know.”
“I’m sure you have, but I’d like to talk about the deal Green had with you. You never know when some small detail might materialize that could be important.”
“I can speak about general matters, but some things are confidential,” Wallace said in a cautious voice.
“Mr. Wallace, Ms. Green has already told me your concerns about her husband. She also shared with me files about Doug’s business dealings, as well as information on his bank accounts.”
“Then what more can I add?”
“You can tell me about a man named Spade McKenzie. He came to Ms. Green’s house and threatened her, saying that her husband had forged the licensing agreement for this weight-loss drink.”
“I’m aware of McKenzie’s allegations,” Wallace said. “He came here declaring the same thing.”
“Is he telling the truth?”
“I’m not sure.” Wallace continued to fiddle with his pen. �
��So far, I haven’t found proof to substantiate that his claims are false. McKenzie has a patent agreement, but so did Doug, dated prior to McKenzie’s. As for the licensing agreement, it was with the university. Doug’s agreement named another scientist, a man named David Waters, as the inventor.”
Knowing Doug had been married to Gina Waters, Collin registered the name in his head, figuring David Waters was another alias. “Did you talk to Waters?”
“Apparently he’s off in South America on some cruise and hasn’t been located,” Wallace said with a wry laugh. “So I contacted Sydney to see if she could find some of Doug’s files. However, I suggested to McKenzie that we go through the Patent and Trademark Association to settle the issue, and our attorney suggested we settle out of court.”
“If you offered a settlement, then you had reason to believe McKenzie’s claims?”
“We thought it would be in everyone’s best interest to keep the dispute low-key.”
Which meant he probably knew Doug had been underhanded, but he’d managed to keep the matter from the public eye. A shrewd businessman.
Wallace made a clicking sound with the pen. “But unfortunately Mr. McKenzie hasn’t been very agreeable so far. His wife came with him to the second meeting. They brawled right here in the office. I thought I was going to have to call security.”
“What were they fighting about?”
“She wanted him to accept the settlement. In fact, she insisted. It made me wonder if he was lying and she wanted him to take the money and run.”
Collin contemplated that notion for a minute. He’d thought the killer might be a woman. If it wasn’t Doug’s mistress or first wife, perhaps Mrs. McKenzie had killed Doug to gain notoriety and more money for her husband.
“Is there anything else, Mr. Cash?” Wallace asked, standing as if ready to dismiss him.
“Just one thing. Are you going to bring out the product as you planned?”
Wallace smiled. “Absolutely. We’ve received clearance with the FDA. In fact, the delay has hyped interest. I predict our stock will be even more valuable.”
Collin nodded and left, rolling the information he’d just learned around in his head. It only broadened the list of suspects. Now he’d added McKenzie’s wife and Wallace. If Norvek’s stock went up, he’d be willing to bet Wallace would be the first one to profit. And with Doug out of the picture, Wallace would rake in millions.
ANXIOUS ABOUT SYDNEY, Collin drove straight to her house. He rang the doorbell, not caring if she planned to throw him out, but knowing he had to see her and make sure she was safe.
When the door swung open, Kelly, Sydney’s neighbor, greeted him warily. She held her baby on her hip.
“Who is it, Kel?” Sydney called.
“It’s me, Sydney.” Collin brushed past Kelly.
Sydney sat cross-legged on the floor of the den in the midst of notebooks, papers, clothes and various other items, obviously sorting them into boxes. “What are you doing here?” Sydney asked, shooting him an angry glance as she continued to pack the items.
“I was worried about you,” he said in a low voice.
Her hands stilled momentarily, the only sign that his words had affected her. “Well, as you see, I’m fine. And I’m really busy, so you can show yourself out.”
He didn’t budge. “Did you talk to that lawyer yet?”
She glared at him. “I have an appointment with him tomorrow.”
Collin breathed a sigh of relief. He hoped she wouldn’t need a lawyer, but it was better to be safe.
Kelly moved into the room and sat on the sofa, cradling the little girl in her lap. Collin noticed an appointment book and picked it up. “Was this Doug’s?”
Sydney nodded, stuffing various shoes in a box.
He touched the outer binding, then flipped open the pages, skimming the dates and names. Various pharmaceutical companies, appointments at the university.... “I’m surprised the book wasn’t confiscated when the police searched your house.”
“It was hidden in the closet, near the box. I found it this morning.”
Collin nodded, but the gray and black lines of the pages bled together and his eyesight blurred, darkness smothering the light as flashes of different people floated in front of him.
McKenzie and a woman, his wife, arguing heatedly with him...a man in a white lab coat, a doctor holding a chart and discussing one of his drugs...a woman in white flirting with him but he couldn’t see her face, couldn’t see the doctor’s face...
“Collin? What’s wrong? Did you find something?”
The visions faded. Collin blinked to clear his sight and saw Sydney standing beside him, studying the book over his shoulder.
“Did you show this book to Wallace? Or Raeburn?”
Shadows darkened her eyes. “No, like I said, I just found it.”
“Do you mind if I keep it and read through it? It might give us some clues.”
“Go ahead.” She was so close to him he could smell her jasmine scent. He wanted to soothe the haunted look from her face.
Then Kelly stood, interrupting the moment. “I think I’ll leave you two alone.”
“You don’t have to go,” Sydney said, looking panic-stricken.
The phone rang and Sydney froze.
“Have you gotten any more threatening calls?” he asked, guessing the answer by the fear in her eyes.
She bit her lower lip. “Yes, last night”
Anger burned his throat as he answered the phone.
“Cash, is that you?”
He grimaced. “Yeah, Raeburn, what is it?” Sydney rested her hands on top of the box, watching him.
“I need Mizz Green to come down here to answer some more questions.”
“What haven’t you asked her?” Collin’s tone hardened.
“It’s about McKenzie,” Raeburn said in a snide voice.
“You brought him in about the bomb?”
“Not exactly,” Raebum said. “But we found him. He’s dead.”
Collin squeezed the receiver so tightly his fist ached.
“Tell Mizz Green she can come down of her own accord or I’ll send a car.”
“We’ll be there in ten minutes!” Collin snapped. He slammed down the phone, dreading telling Sydney the news.
“What is it?” she whispered.
He looked into her eyes. “McKenzie’s dead. Raeburn wants to talk to you.” He sighed, his voice full of regret. “We have to go, Sydney.”
She pursed her lips and nodded, squeezing her eyes closed briefly as if to gain control.
“Who’s McKenzie?” Kelly asked.
“He worked with Doug,” Sydney explained.
“You want me to go with you, Syd?” Kelly’s eyes filled with tears. She placed a hand on Sydney’s arm.
“The police station is no place for a little one.” Sydney brushed a kiss across Megan’s forehead. The baby gurgled and swatted her chubby hand, and Collin’s chest squeezed. He’d like to see Sydney with her own child, happy and carefree, loving and—
“Let’s go.” Sydney grabbed her purse and he followed her to the door, thinking about Sydney and a baby. Maybe his baby. He quickly dismissed the idea. Sydney was making it very plain she didn’t want anything to do with him. She certainly wouldn’t consider having his child. Then he stopped, stunned at his own thoughts. He’d never contemplated marriage or having a family. And the fact that he had just imagined a future with Sydney shook him to the core.
“I TOLD YOU I was at home that night,” Sydney said.
Raeburn snorted. “Did he know too much? Is that why you did it?” Raeburn asked as if he hadn’t heard her. “Or were you afraid he’d lay claim to the money and you wouldn’t get it, after all?”
“She was at home all night,” Collin interjected. “Because I was with her.”
Raeburn’s ruddy cheeks reddened. “Cash, I don’t get it. Did sleeping with her blind you to her manipulations?”
“No, but since you brought it up,” Co
llin bellowed, “you know I was there. Hell, you dragged us out of bed the next morning.”
Sydney shuddered at the memory and twisted her hands in her lap.
“Then who shot McKenzie?” Raeburn asked snidely.
“Maybe the same person who killed Green,” Collin suggested. “If you’d quit trying to pin it on Sydney, you might find the real killer!”
Sydney stared at Collin, shocked at the degree of conviction in his voice. He really did believe her. And he was putting his reputation on the line for her.
A young officer popped his head into the office.
“I told you not to disturb me,” Raeburn barked.
“I think you’ll want to hear this. We received a call from Norvek Pharmaceuticals. Some crazy woman is there threatening the CEO with a gun.”
Sydney gasped.
“Christ, what next?” Raeburn asked.
“It must be McKenzie’s wife,” Collin said.
Raeburn sighed. “I’m on my way.”
COLLIN AND SYDNEY followed Raeburn, making double time behind Raeburn’s police car with its siren wailing. When they reached the Norvek building, blue lights were flashing across the glass front, a crowd had gathered, and most of the people inside had been evacuated. A SWAT team stood by, preparing their strategy.
“She’s on the fifth floor,” a uniformed officer told Raeburn.
“Stay here, Sydney,” Collin said, following Raeburn.
Sydney clutched his arm. “Collin?”
He turned quickly. “Yeah?”
Her eyes were luminous. And so beautiful. And worried. “Be careful.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. Her whispered warning gave him hope. Maybe she cared, after all.
SYDNEY STAYED STILL for all of five seconds. Then she rushed forward, knowing if Collin confronted Steve, she had to be there. This whole situation revolved around her. Or rather, her dead husband, who refused to remain buried.
Raeburn and Collin were pushing the elevator button when she raced up to them. “I thought I told you to stay outside,” Collin snapped.
“How did you slip past those guards?” Raeburn asked.