Shivering, she peered around in search of a closet. Perhaps something warmer would be hanging in there. Then she remembered the flannel shirt Aiden had been wearing earlier, the one with the snaps she wanted to rip open. That brought a smile as she thought of how she’d ended up doing just that. A wave of desire rippled through her as she recalled the feel of his chest, smooth and firm under her hands and then her lips.
The shirt lay in a heap on the floor by his side of the bed, and she walked over to scoop it up. She brought it to her face for a moment. It was soft and smelled like burned wood and cologne. As she donned it, Lily noticed Aiden’s jeans and picked them up too. With the jeans folded over an arm, she made her way back to the armoire to put them away. Something in the pocket moved! Lily almost dropped them until she realized it was the familiar vibration of a cell phone and fished it from his pocket.
A name glowed brightly on the screen and for a second she worried the light would wake Aiden, but when she saw the name of the caller, Lily went limp, dropping the phone along with the jeans. Bile rose hot in her throat as her legs threatened to give way under her. No! a voice screamed in her head.
The light on the night table clicked on. “What’s wrong?” Aiden jumped to his feet, a sheet clutched around his waist.
Lily pointed to the phone lying at his feet. “You bastard! You son of a bitch.” She pulled off the thin blanket from the bed and wrapped it around herself. Anger had her firmly in its grasp as she bent to pick up the phone and hold it out to him. “You gonna answer it?”
Aiden looked at it and shook his head just as it stilled. “I can explain…” He held his hand out to her, but she ignored it, stepping backward, feeling for her own clothes without taking her eyes from him.
“There’s nothing to explain.” Her hand closed on her blouse and pants, and she turned away to quickly dress. “All those damn questions. I should have known,” she chided herself. “Jesus, how stupid can I be?” Lily turned back to face him. “Did you have to sleep with me? Did you have to use me too?”
Aiden sat heavily on the bed, the mattress creaking in protest. “You…I… This was real,” he said, eyes downcast.
“None of this is real, Aiden. This is all bullshit. Is Aiden even your name? Who are you, really?”
“A detective. And yes, Aiden’s my name.” His tone seemed earnest, but she didn’t care. There was no trusting him now.
“So, Wilkins hired you?” She launched the phone at him, hitting his shoulder. It bounced off him and onto the bed. “Guess you didn’t get what you wanted, did you? You thought you could seduce me and get me to confess to killing Sara.” She made her way to the staircase and turned back toward him. “Well, you seduced me, so congratulations on getting half the job done.”
“Wait!” He sprang up behind her, the sheet trailing him. He clamped a hand around her arm. “Where are you going?”
With a look of indignation, Lily wrenched free. “Home. You don’t think I’m going to stay the night?”
“Let me get dressed and we can talk.” He backed away slowly, keeping an eye on her. “Please. I’ll explain everything.”
She gave a harsh bark of laughter and started down the stairs.
* * *
Lily was at the front door donning her coat when Aiden came up behind her after dressing. He had no choice but to lay all his cards on the table. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but for what it’s worth, I don’t think you killed your sister, and I’d like to help find who did.” He watched for a reaction, hoping she’d see reason.
Lily stopped fussing with the zipper of her coat, but when she looked at him, he saw only contempt.
“Can we talk? I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” He gestured to the living room where just moments ago they’d been happy.
She kept her coat on but took off her boots, walked to the living room without a word, and settled into a corner of one of the couches, sending a message she wanted him nowhere near her. Aiden sat on the other couch and pulled the throw over his shoulders. The fire had guttered out, leaving a crisp chill in the air. How was he going to talk his way out of this? Although he’d told Lily he thought she was innocent, that wasn’t entirely true. He hoped she was innocent despite the evidence pointing decidedly in her direction.
He eyed the woman he’d just made love to. She was beautiful even when furious, even when hatred burned in her eyes, even if she was a murderer.
“Should I make coffee? To warm us up?”
“No, goddamn it. You said you were going to explain, so start talking.” She pulled up her legs and hugged her knees to herself.
“OK.” He held up a hand. “You’ve figured out Wilkins hired me. That’s true, but I’m here to find your sister’s murderer, so try to look at this as a positive. If you didn’t do it—and I don’t think you did—we can work together. If we team up…”
“Bullshit. You would have been honest with me from the start if that’s what you really wanted to do. You think I’m guilty just like everyone else in this town.”
“That was before I knew you.” He edged forward and tilted his head to catch her gaze. “We’ve only known each other a short while, but I’m a good judge of character, and I don’t think you’re capable of murder. But there are two men who were in your sister’s life at the time of her death, and we’ve got to find out if either one of them could be. What can you tell me about Philip Kemp and Zander Lyons? Things you haven’t told me yet.”
She looked surprised. “You know about Philip?”
“All I know is that he was seeing your sister before her affair with Zander.”
Lily exhaled audibly. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Please, Lily, I want to help.” He reached out and traced a finger over her hand, but she jerked away. Slow down, he told himself. She’s a hard nut to crack, remember?
CHAPTER 12
Natalie Lyons sat at the bottom of Ryan’s Road, positioned in the perfect spot to be able to see Aiden’s cabin. How the hell that woman got to the top of the driveway in this weather was beyond her. Lily must have been more than a little desperate to see that hunky PI.
After tucking her phone away in her jacket pocket, she checked her gas gauge. The needle dipped lower than she was comfortable with, but it was either keep the car running or freeze her ass off, so she opted for warming her ass. She could see that a light was on in the lower level of the cabin. A quick glance at her dash revealed 3:34 shining in a peaceful blue glow. “Guess it’s an all-nighter,” she said in disgust, then glimpsed herself in the rear-view mirror—mousy brown hair hung limp and lifeless across her face, making her hate herself all the more. Natalie turned, slipped the SUV into gear, and drove away.
Tomorrow she’d plant another seed.
* * *
“Where the hell were you?” Zander asked when she entered the house. Her dad was sitting on the steps at the bottom of the large, winding staircase waiting for her to come home, a ragged copy of Stephen King’s The Stand in hand.
“Out.”
“Out! I almost called the sheriff. And do you know what it would take for me to call that bastard?” She knew but ignored the question.
“Mommy sleeping?”
Zander grunted. “Of course. Do you think she’d be worried enough about you to stay up till all hours of the morning? Your mom’s not concerned about your welfare like I am.” He sighed and shook his shaggy head. “Remember what happened almost a year ago? When you ran your car off the road?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “You broke your collarbone and ended up with a concussion.”
Natalie did remember and despite her best efforts to look disinterested, she let her head hang. She’d done it on purpose, wanting the attention, and was well aware her dad knew this. He was acquainted with the demons that lived inside her. She also knew her mother couldn’t have stayed up for her even if she tried. Her nasty habit of “a sleeping pill a day keeps the nightmares away” took care of that.
She tossed her keys into the bowl on the foyer table and tucked an errant strand of hair behind an ear. “Just got things on my mind is all. I needed some alone time.” She strode past him without so much as glancing his way.
Never the perfect child, she knew she was a worry with her moodiness, her instability, and the things she did to shock people, like the piercings and tattoos. Doctor after doctor was unable to help. In her most private thoughts, she wondered if something was wrong with her and if her dad thought the same thing. Something that couldn’t be fixed.
Zander let out a frustrated sigh. “Nat, you’re the only one who believes I’m innocent of that awful crime.” He was trying to win her over, pull her out of her mood. Swinging the conversation back to him—her poor old dad. She could almost read his mind. Gabby, his ice queen of a wife, thought he was capable of murder and she, his ever-loving daughter, was all he had left.
Natalie noticed the ten-carat canary-diamond ring with matching earrings he’d bought her mother after the Sara Valier murder. She’d also heard their fight. Her dad begging her mother not to leave. Probably cheaper than a divorce she figured. Still, she was glad when her mother stayed despite the continued chill in the air.
Zander followed her into the great room. He wasn’t really angry with her anymore. She could feel it. Natalie lay down on the couch and flicked on the TV.
“Are you looking for Sara’s killer?” he asked, his tone softer.
She turned the volume to mute and rolled over to face him. “No.”
She knew that lie as well as he did. Zander moved her legs over to sit beside her. “Let the cops do their job.”
Natalie sat up. “If I don’t do what I can to help, they might come after you again.”
Tears sprang to her eyes and he pulled her into an embrace.
“Honey, I’ve been cleared.” He held her at arm’s length and studied her. “You know I didn’t do it, right?”
She was quick to nod. “I know. But what if they can’t find out who did it? They’re going to want to pin it on someone, and you’re the most…logical.”
Zander smiled. “Now how are they going to do that without any evidence?”
She hesitated, then answered with a weak smile of her own, “I guess you’re right.”
“I don’t want you out at all hours of the night. You’ve got to let go of this. As long as I’m in the clear there’s nothing to worry about, OK?”
The words “there is something to worry about” lingered on her lips, but she swallowed them. How could she tell him all she knew?
CHAPTER 13
Dinally & Sons Auto and Tires was dingy and small, surrounded by a mountain of old tires and a cemetery of car parts. Some Aiden recognized and some were so old and rusted out, they just looked like garbage. The sign on the building was huge and painted in fading black. It read: Dinally & Sons since 1945. Because Philip Kemp was neither a Dinally nor old enough to have started the business himself, Aiden suspected he’d bought it from the original owner.
It looked as if it may have been successful in its day. The old brick building was painted in a now peeling and fading yellow, and Aiden tried to picture it as it would have looked way back when, in all its sunny glory.
The parking lot wasn’t plowed, but part of it was shoveled free of snow. Aiden pulled into a spot between snowbanks and got out of his truck. At first glance, it looked deserted, but a faint clanging of metal on metal led him to the side of the building where a bay door was up and a lone man worked on the underside of an ancient truck on a hoist.
“Hey there,” Aiden called.
The man stopped and turned. “Mornin’. How can I help you?” A little twang colored his voice. A southerner, Aiden figured and smiled. He strode closer. “I’m looking for Philip Kemp. You wouldn’t happen to be him, would you?”
The man wiped his right hand on grease-stained coveralls. “Yeah, I’m Phil.” He held out a not entirely clean hand in greeting. Tall and athletic looking, he wore a white cotton T-shirt under his coveralls. Ropey muscles glistened with sweat despite the bite in the air.
After shaking Philip’s hand, Aiden nonchalantly wiped the oily residue transferred in the handshake onto his own jeans, grateful he wasn’t wearing his good pair. “My name’s Aiden O’Rourke. Can I steal a few minutes of your time?”
Philip’s eyes narrowed and Aiden took note he hadn’t yet put down the heavy-looking wrench he’d been using when he got there. Instead, his hand fisted around it, tightening the muscles in his sinewy forearms.
“What’s this about?” Philip turned back to the truck and began working again.
Despite his holstered gun, Aiden couldn’t help but be relieved when it seemed Philip had no intention of using the wrench on him. He understood what Sara saw in the man, in a raw, sexual sort of way. Philip was tall and well built with sandy blond hair and chiseled features. His guess was she had only been with him out of good old-fashioned animal attraction. Didn’t look like he had a dime to his name and judging by the number of cars in the garage, that being the old man of a truck on the hoist, he didn’t have much by way of prospects either.
“I’m a detective, Mr. Kemp. I’m here to ask a few questions about the murder of Sara Valier.” Aiden pulled a badge from his back pocket and flashed it long enough for Philip to have a look.
An echoing clang rang through the open space, making Aiden leap back a step. Philip had dropped the wrench, and its unfortunate landing on a metal grate added considerably to the decibel level.
“Sorry.” His blue eyes clouded with tears, and he wiped them away on the short sleeve of his shirt. “I already spoke to the sheriff.” His gaze was focused on the far wall, but Aiden suspected he wasn’t really seeing anything, only feeling and remembering. But what? That was the question.
“The case is still open. I’ve been called in to help out. It would really mean a lot if you’d give me a few minutes of your time.”
Philip nodded toward a door, and Aiden began to follow when he walked away. They made their way from the bay into the building through a battered steel door that housed a broken pane of glass. One that looked as if it would shatter with a not-so-hard slam. Once inside, Philip led Aiden to a tiny walk-through kitchen that was more of a hallway than a room. Old newspapers were stacked high, empty takeout food containers and greasy car parts littered the area, and the sour scent of rotten food and old motor oil hung thickly in the air.
“Coffee?” Philip poured himself a cup that looked as thick as molasses to Aiden.
He waved a hand. “Ah, no thanks there, buddy.”
They sat at a small table that had been shoved up against a wall. Aiden had to climb over a mountain of crap to get to a grease-stained chair. Again, he was glad to be wearing his old jeans, the ones with the rip in the knee and now a smear of grease on the right leg.
“So, whatta ya wanna know?” Philip asked as he slurped his coffee.
“How long did you know Ms. Valier?”
“Six months.” Philip turned away to look out a dingy window. The gray slats of a blind had been haphazardly yanked up and hung almost vertically, obscuring Aiden’s view of what he figured was a junkyard. “I wanted to marry her. I loved Sara.”
Aiden wasn’t surprised to see tears standing in Philip’s eyes again.
“OK, good to know.” He was being flippant, yes, but the guy was a gusher. “How did you two meet?”
“Through a friend.”
Aiden took out a notebook and a pen from his jacket. “Mind if I write this down?”
“What for? I told ya I didn’t kill her.” Philip’s brows smashed together in worry. “You believe me, don’t ya?”
“Of course. I just want to get things right…the things you tell me, so I can find the killer.”
“Then you ou
ghta go talk to that sister of hers. She’s the murderer. I can tell you that right now.”
Aiden looked up from his pad and cleared his throat. “And you know this how?”
“I was there when she, Lily’s her name, when Lily pulled a gun on Sara.”
Although Aiden already knew this, hearing it from Philip’s lips made it more real, more concrete, and more damning for Lily. “Tell me exactly where you were when you saw Lily pull the gun.”
A crimson flush began to work its way up Philip’s neck, giving him the look of a man who wanted to be anywhere but where he was at the moment. “Um, well, this might sound kinda weird and like I said, I already told the sheriff all this, but anyways, I was sitting in my car, across the street from Lily’s house.”
“Why?”
Philip tugged at his shirt as if it was suddenly too tight. “I ain’t no stalker. Only wanted to see Sara, so I followed her and that’s where she went—to her sister’s house. I sat in my car waiting on her and then they came outside and talked for a while in the front yard. All of a sudden, Lily ran back in the house and I saw Sara get in her car, like she was gonna drive away. When Lily came back out, she had a gun in her hand. She pulled open Sara’s car door and I heard Sara yell ‘no’.”
“Did either of the women see you?”
Philip shook his head.
“So what happened next? Did you actually see Lily pointing the gun at her sister?”
Pursed lips and a knitted brow made it look as if thinking was painful. “Yup, I think so.”
“You think? You mean to tell me you can’t say with one hundred percent certainty you saw Lily pointing a gun at Sara?”
Philip’s face became a thundercloud. “I know what I saw and yes, I did see her lift that gun up and point it right at Sara. And that’s what I told Sheriff Wilkins later on, you know, after Sara was killed. I sent him an e-mail.”
Aiden nodded. “I’ve seen the e-mail, but there’s something puzzling me.” He cocked a brow and stared hard into Philip’s blue eyes.
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