If I Can't Let Go (If You Come Back To Me #2)

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If I Can't Let Go (If You Come Back To Me #2) Page 8

by BETH KERY


  “Nah, you better go and look busy or your captain will catch onto you letting me in here. You’ll be getting a midnight tan before you know it,” Liam joked, referring to one of a police officer’s least preferred duties—night patrol.

  Derek laughed, but looked a little relieved at Liam’s pardon as he started to back out of the room. “You want anything to eat? We’ve got some leftover doughnuts from the morning briefing.”

  “No need,” Liam said with a grin. The last thing he wanted to do at that moment was eat, as nervous as he felt about watching the tape. After Derek had gone, he sat down at the conference table and clicked the play button on the VCR.

  He fast-forwarded through several hours of surveillance tape until he finally saw the familiar head and shoulders appear at the bottom of the screen. His heart leaping into his throat, he rewound and hit Play again.

  He’d forgotten the power of his father’s presence. The camera was placed at an angle that showed Derry Kavanaugh’s back as he sat at the bar with two men and one other woman. Liam knew that the Silver Dunes Country Club was typically crowded from Thursdays through Sundays, but this had clearly been a slow Tuesday. With no weekend sports to entertain the crowd, the television mounted behind the gleaming walnut wood bar was tuned to the news.

  Derry sat a good distance away from the other people, his shoulders hunched slightly. Jack Andreason, the bartender, smiled jovially as he greeted Derry. Liam suspected Jack had served his dad many times in the past and that he was used to bantering with Derry about sports or politics. It didn’t seem to take Jack long to catch onto Derry’s mood, however. Although Liam couldn’t see his father’s face, he saw how Jack’s smile sagged after two seconds of interacting with his father. He brought Derry his drink and walked away to clean some glasses. Liam guessed from the dark color of his father’s drink that he was drinking whiskey neat.

  It felt as if he’d been plugged into a low-grade electrical outlet when Liam noticed his father’s wedding ring on his right hand. His father jiggled the gold circlet with his thumb in a nervous, edgy gesture before he reached for his glass of disappearing whiskey.

  Liam watched the entire period Derry was there—one hour, twenty-seven minutes and thirteen seconds of spying on the last moments of his father’s life. The longer Derry sat there, the more a pressure intensified in Liam’s chest. It was ludicrous, and he knew it, but he wished like hell he could reach through the television screen and somehow force his father not to leave that bar.

  The man he watched was obviously miserable, but things would have looked better in the morning. Things were always better, come morning.

  But his dad never saw another dawn.

  The moment came, of course, just as Liam knew it would. Derry stood and threw some cash on the bar. Liam searched hungrily for a glimpse of his face, but he only caught Derry’s bold profile before he walked out of the frame and disappeared.

  Liam sat for a full five minutes, eyes closed, his hand covering his lower face, unmoving.

  Then he rewound the tape and watched the entire sequence again…and again.

  She felt ridiculous for taking so much time with her appearance, but her anxiety over the matter couldn’t overpower a desire to look as good as possible. She glanced at the clock she kept on her bathroom counter.

  It’s not a date, for goodness’ sake, she mentally chastised herself as she fastened her earring. He’d never said it was. They were just going to discuss what he’d observed on the surveillance tape.

  The only problem was, Liam had made a point of saying their partnership in uncovering the truths from their past was not a business venture, either.

  He’d told her point-blank he was attracted to her.

  She really shouldn’t have allowed him to burst into her office and dictate terms the way he had. She’d told herself repeatedly over the past twenty-four hours that the only reason she hadn’t called him and told him not to come tonight was that part of her believed he was right. It was ridiculous to say this venture was anything but—

  “Personal,” Natalie whispered to herself as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Something fluttered in her stomach hearing that word.

  But just how personal did Liam Kavanaugh mean? That was the question that kept haunting her.

  She hadn’t been sure what to wear. What if she looked too dressy and Liam showed up in shorts and a T-shirt? She’d compromised with a pair of jeans, some high-heeled leather sandals and a jade-green knit halter top.

  She picked up a comb and stroked her hair. Her extra efforts had paid off. The dark chestnut strands tumbled in loose curls all the way to her waist. She’d spent an extra five minutes moisturizing her skin. Her bare shoulders gleamed in the bathroom light.

  She hesitated when she picked up her glasses, tempted to leave them behind, then almost dropped them in the sink when she heard the doorbell.

  “Hi,” she said when she opened the front door, her voice cracking from nerves.

  “Hi.”

  He’d dressed for dinner. Not formally by any means— Natalie just couldn’t picture a guy like Liam putting on a suit for dinner—but he’d made an effort with his appearance, nonetheless. Not that he needed to. The result left her speechless.

  “Your hair…it’s down,” he said. The tinge of wonder and warmth in his voice only added to her tongue-tied state.

  “You’ve seen it down before.”

  “Not in the light,” he corrected.

  “Please, come in,” she muttered, unsure how to respond.

  “I like your place,” he said as he stepped into her living room. The light in her house was usually muted, due to her eyes’ sensitivity. Her town house was homey, though, despite the dimness, thanks to warm colors, sensual fabrics and glowing, ambient light from well-placed lamps. Natalie considered the room proportions in her town house to be quite generous, but Liam made them shrink with his presence.

  “Thanks,” Natalie said as she watched his gaze travel across every detail of her living room. She got the impression he didn’t miss much with those cop’s eyes of his.

  “You look fantastic,” he said.

  “So do you.”

  Her cheeks burned when she realized what she’d just said without even a millisecond of hesitation. When would she learn to think before she spoke? Maybe at the same time she taught herself not to blush at inopportune moments.

  “Would you like a quick tour? There’s not much to see, but—”

  “Lead the way,” he said. She showed him the dining room, kitchen and patio, and a few minutes later led him back to the living room.

  “You’re multitalented,” he said. “You dance like a professional and you could have been an interior designer as well. I should get your advice on the cottage.”

  “It looked like you were doing a great job on your own,” Natalie said as she grabbed a light sweater from the entryway and they walked out the door.

  Liam shrugged. He checked her lock and closed the door firmly behind him. “I do okay with the basics, but when it comes to colors or arranging furniture, I’m your basic caveman.”

  “At least you’re man enough to admit it.”

  Liam glanced over at her sharply, grinning when he saw her small smile.

  “You didn’t bring your bike?” Natalie observed as they approached his sedan.

  “No. Disappointed?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for her.

  “Very,” Natalie replied, looking at him over her shoulder. Perhaps it was foolish of her, but part of her had always envied all those girls she used to see on the back of his motorcycle.

  She pulled up short when he reached beneath the fall of her long hair and grasped her upper arm.

  “Be careful, Natalie.”

  His low, rough voice made her shudder.

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you can’t decide if you’re innocent or a seductress,” he said, leaning closer, “I might have to help you choose.”

  Cha
pter Six

  She stood motionless, highly aware of him. She felt it when his fingers closed around her long hair. His nostrils flared.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. His fist opened, granting her freedom, and she heard his low chuckle.

  He shut the passenger door once she was seated.

  She made a mental effort to smoothe her choppy breath. Why did it happen so often, that she said something to him in such an off-the-cuff manner, as if she was a practiced flirt? Her occasional responses surprised her, probably more than they did Liam. They just seemed to spill out of her, contrary to her nervousness.

  Contrary to her typical desire for control.

  Her voice had sounded husky there by the car…downright suggestive if the flame that had leaped into Liam’s eyes and his ensuing reaction were any indication.

  A half hour later, Natalie was heartened to realize she was feeling more comfortable, despite Liam’s earlier challenge and her anxious curiosity about his experience at the state police headquarters today.

  He’d probably have forgotten the moment by tomorrow, Natalie thought with a mental eye roll.

  He’d chosen the Lakeview—a sedate, upscale eatery located in nearby Antioch, Michigan. The Lakeview was one of the few places in the area where Natalie enjoyed dining. The secluded tables and darkened interior afforded her the measure of privacy she preferred. They exchanged little conversation as they examined the menus and then placed their orders.

  “You like the place all right?” Liam observed as he watched her gazing out the window onto the brilliant view of the sun setting above the blue waters of Lake Michigan.

  She furtively removed her glasses. Although it was Thursday—usually a busy night for the Lakeview—the crowd tonight was thin. She nodded toward the window. “I’ve lived in this area my whole life, and I never get tired of the sunsets.”

  “Me, either,” Liam agreed.

  “And, yes, you’re right. This is one of my favorite restaurants.” She stared back out at the view, glad that with Liam sitting across from her, she could at least show him the “good” side of her face.

  “So I’d heard.”

  She turned her head. “From whom?”

  Liam’s shrug looked a little sheepish. “I asked Mari if there was any place she knew you liked. After making such a big deal of things in your office last night, I didn’t want to risk taking you to a place like Jake’s and having you hate it.”

  Natalie stared at him, her lips parted. She’d assumed he hadn’t noticed her discomfort for what it was the other night.

  She’d assumed wrong.

  It both pleased and confused her at once that he’d taken the time to ask his sister-in-law about where she might like to dine. Maybe Liam truly did consider their outing as a date of sorts.

  “I had dinner with your brother, Marc, and Mari here last fall,” Natalie said, thinking it was best to sidestep the issue of her discomfort with crowds and staring eyes.

  “Yeah. Mari told me. She said Eric came, too.”

  “That’s right. Marc and Eric even managed not to get into a fight the whole time. All the more reason for me to adore this place.”

  He gave her a dry glance, and she chuckled.

  She examined him closely in the seconds that followed, trying to gauge his mood. He looked wonderful to her in the light of flickering candles and the setting sun. He wore a white button-down shirt with blue stripes, the cuffs open and rolled casually back, revealing his strong, tanned forearms. His eyes seemed to glow in the ambient light as he returned her stare levelly.

  His expression sobered.

  “So…feuding families aside, I guess you’re wondering how things went this afternoon.”

  “I am curious.” Her throat felt tight when she swallowed. She glanced out at the golden pink sky and dark blue lake. “I’m…concerned, as well.”

  “About what?”

  “About you.” She kept her gaze on the stunning sunset.

  He didn’t respond immediately. “I’m touched.”

  She gave him a sidelong look. “Don’t be. Anyone would be worried about you going and watching that tape on your own.”

  “I told you before, I’m only concerned about what you think.”

  She rolled her eyes. He laughed softly, but for the first time that evening, she sensed his tension. He played the role of the easygoing, gorgeous daredevil so effortlessly, it was hard for her to see below the surface sometimes.

  “I watched the video,” he said.

  “And?” Natalie prompted hesitantly.

  “It wasn’t easy.”

  “No, I’m sure it wasn’t.”

  He circled his iced-tea spoon in his glass several times, removed it and tossed it on a napkin. “It was easy to see why Jack Andreason described my dad as ‘sullen’ during the trial. I could only see him from the back, but his posture was deflated and wired at once. Jack’s good mood seemed to fade when he approached my dad. I wonder what my father said to him.”

  “There was no sound?”

  Liam shook his head. “It’s illegal to audiotape someone without their consent.”

  “I hadn’t realized that,” Natalie said, disappointed. “You must not have been able to get much from the viewing, then. Did Derry talk to anyone while he was there?”

  “No, aside from his interactions with Jack, which were brief. Jack seemed all too happy to keep clear of him.”

  “So…it wasn’t helpful.” Regret flooded her, not because the tape was a dead end, but because Liam had risked so much by watching the last hours of his father’s life and they weren’t any closer to understanding Derry’s actions on the night of the crash.

  “I wouldn’t say it wasn’t helpful,” Liam replied in a flat tone.

  She glanced over at him in surprise, but had to quiet her curiosity when the waiter came with their salads.

  “What did you notice?” Natalie asked as soon as the waiter had departed.

  “I don’t know if it means anything or not, but at one point, my dad snapped at Jack when he tried to change the channel on the television. I couldn’t hear anything, but Jack’s alarmed look at my dad when he reached for the remote clued me in.”

  He must have noticed her confused expression.

  “There was a television behind the bar. I could see it better than my dad’s face. It was mounted above the cash register,” Liam explained before he took a bite of his salad.

  “I see,” she murmured. “So your father was watching something on the television, and he didn’t want Jack to change the channel? What was the program?”

  “The news,” Liam said. He seemed distracted as he put down his fork and pushed his salad away.

  “Do you think whatever was on the news is actually relevant?” Natalie asked.

  “I don’t see how it could be,” Liam admitted. “The TV was on CNN, airing a story about a corporate takeover by DuBois Enterprises. Those happen often enough. DuBois seems to gobble up some new company every week. Lincoln DuBois himself was on the screen. I can’t imagine why my dad would have barked at Jack that he wanted to watch it. It was definitely because of that story, though, because he wasn’t staring at the television before it aired, and he hardly glanced at it again after the clip was over. He left about five minutes after the end of the segment…once he’d finished his drink,” Liam finished grimly.

  “Isn’t DuBois a media conglomerate?”

  Liam nodded. “Yeah. A lot more than media is under the DuBois umbrella, though, everything from computer software production, to copper mining, to newspapers and magazines.”

  Natalie shook her head in confusion and swallowed a final bite of her own salad before she set down her fork. “Did it say who DuBois Enterprises had acquired in the takeover?”

  Liam shrugged. “Yeah, I could see the headlines at the bottom pretty damn well. Some French company called Alerveret that manufactured computer chips.”

  “Why would your father be interested
in that?” Natalie asked as the waiter returned to clear their salad plates. Liam didn’t speak until they were alone again.

  “Hell if I know. Maybe he wasn’t interested in the news story at all. Maybe he was just in a bad mood, and taking it out on Jack.”

  Natalie considered this possibility as their entrees were served. Liam seemed thoughtful, too. In the distance, she heard the tinkling sounds of a piano.

  “I’ll go over to the library tomorrow and see if I can’t dig up any information on the DuBois takeover of Alerveret. I couldn’t find much online,” he said.

  “Do you think your father could have had investments in Alerveret? Maybe he lost a chunk of money, and that’s what upset him.”

  Liam shook his head dismissively. “He was upset before he saw the news clip, remember? Although he seemed damn interested in that story, and even more agitated after he watched it. As far as the bad investment, I think my mom would have told us about that. I never heard her mention losing a huge chunk of money—not before the lawsuits, anyway.”

  Natalie’s cheeks heated and she lowered her gaze. The Kavanaughs’ socioeconomic status had drastically changed after the lawsuits against Derry Kavanaugh’s estate. All that money had gone to Mari and Ryan Itani and Natalie and her brother. The bulk of the money awarded to the Reyes family had paid for Natalie’s medical care following the accident. Eric and Natalie had used the remainder to get good educations, something their mother would have wished for them more than anything if she’d lived.

  She could tell by his thoughtful manner Liam hadn’t meant his comment as a jab. He was just stating a simple fact.

  “I’ll be sure to check about the direction of Alerveret’s stock after DuBois acquired them, though, just to make sure,” Liam said.

  “Liam?”

  He glanced up in the process of cutting his chicken.

  “Both Roger Dayson and Jack Andreason seemed to be intimidated by your father on that night. But I’m getting the impression from you that your father wasn’t an angry person by nature. Is that correct?”

  “I can only remember him getting mad once in my entire childhood. It was the year before he died. I played football in high school, and I had this overzealous coach my freshman year who got aggressive at times. You know the type—dude put his entire identity into leading a bunch of skinny fourteen-year-olds into battle. Anyway, he got a little rough one afternoon practice with one of my friends on the team. My father had shown up unexpectedly to watch me practice, and he saw the whole thing. When Coach ended practice and told us to go shower, my dad barked at him to stay behind. Said he wanted a word. I’d never seen my dad look like that before. He looked like he was going to chew up Coach Bragg and spit him out.”

 

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