Loyalty Under Fire (Operation: Hot Spot Book 3)

by Trish McCallan

  After a mystified glance at his hard face, she reached for the picture. She recognized the woman in the photograph instantly. Adele. She didn’t recognize the man pressed to her sister’s side, but she instinctively disliked him. The smug, superior look he wore was vaguely repulsive.

  She checked the picture out again. The pose was formal. Stiff. Her heart sank. “Please tell me this isn’t her fiancé.”

  “The wedding invitation is on the other side.” His voice carried no inflection whatsoever. “Take a look at Adele’s neck.”

  She raised the picture closer to her eyes and caught sight of the necklace hanging from Adele’s neck. Her breath hissed out, and her entire body jerked.

  “It can’t… it can’t be the same?” But her voice was breathless and doubtful.

  “Looks identical to me.” Rio’s tone, in contrast, was certain. “I knew this”—he tapped the sketch with his finger—“looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it. At least until today at your sister’s place. She had a framed copy of this photo on a table in her living room.” He took the journal and picture back and turned them to face him. “I swung by my apartment on the way over and found my invitation to the wedding.” He stared down. “They’re identical.” The eyes that rose to hers were rock hard and full of suspicion. “So how did the necklace in your mother’s diary end up around Adele’s neck?”

  Becca took a deep breath and forced back the instinctive urge to shy away from Rio’s question. If she truly wanted to find justice for her mother, she couldn’t avoid where the investigation led.

  “Did she say where she got it?”

  “From her mother. It was an engagement gift.”

  The necklace had come from Lena? “Where did Lena get it?”

  Rio scowled and shook his head. “Adele claims not to know. Your stepmother told her it was a family heirloom.”

  A Hart heirloom? How would that have made its way into her mother’s diary… unless her father had given it to her? But if he’d given it to her, how had it ended up around Adele’s neck?

  “We need to find out whether your mother ever wore that pendant. Whether it belonged to her first,” Rio said. He closed the journal and folded the wedding invitation into its original square, tucking it back inside his rear pocket.

  We… He’d said we… A burst of warmth washed away the shock, and her mind started working again.

  “And how do we do that?” she asked, emphasizing the word we to cement their unification… at least when it came to her mother’s murder.

  His eyebrows rose as she stressed the word, but he let the moment pass unchallenged. “We talk to Hilde again. See if she remembers seeing your mom wearing the necklace.” He paused, cocked his head, his gaze searching. “How do you feel about making another trip out to see Hilde?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ten minutes later, Becca found herself bundled in her bulletproof vest and sitting in Trammel’s Jeep. Rio hadn’t been kidding when he said he wanted to talk to Hilde again. She just hadn’t expected the visit to come so soon.

  She watched him through her lashes as he started the Jeep. He’d mentioned seeing a framed copy of the photo he’d shown her at Adele’s place earlier today. Which meant he’d gone to see her half sister. Why? To check Becca’s story out. To make sure she hadn’t been lying?

  Of course he’d have to verify what she’d told him, which made the thick knot of hurt constricting her chest impossible to justify. He was a cop… a detective… It was his job to dig down to the truth.

  “I take it you went to see Adele today?” She tried to keep her tone neutral, void of accusation. She had no reason to feel so betrayed.

  He nodded absently, his attention on the road. “I was hoping she’d have insight into Adam and his earlier treatment of you, which she didn’t. And while she remembered hearing Lena and Aaron fighting—” He frowned and shook his head slightly. “She didn’t remember specifics and couldn’t say for certain whether the arguments were about you or your mother.” He shot her a quick look before turning back to the road. “Which reminds me. Did you inherit anything from your dad? As an acknowledged heir, you should have shared in his estate.”

  The knot in her chest unfurled. It didn’t sound like he’d gone to Adele to check out what Becca had told him the night before.

  “I didn’t even know he’d died. At least not until the San Diego police denied my request to open Mom’s case. After that, I called the house, hoping Dad might have some influence with the police department. The woman who answered the phone told me he passed away.” She swallowed hard, her throat so tight it ached. “He died years ago, and I didn’t even know.”

  She stared out the window, vaguely aware of San Diego skimming past the glass. An echo of the icy shock that had swamped her when she’d heard the news of her father’s death swallowed her again. His birthday cards and phone calls had dwindled through the years until eventually they’d stopped altogether. She’d chocked it up to the difficulty of remaining in contact with someone who had no interest in reciprocating.

  She’d held hard to her grudge against her father far too long. While Aaron Hart had done right by her by taking her into his home, he’d let her down too. He’d never stood up for her. Not against Adam. Not against his wife. He hadn’t even asked what had happened to send her fleeing from his household all those years ago. Or asked her to reconsider and stay.

  Instead, he’d offered her money.

  Guilt money. Money to stay away.

  It wasn’t until the shock of his death had burned away the remnants of hurt and betrayal that she been able to see past her self-absorption… see what her inflexibility… had cost her.

  Grief churned, souring her stomach. The numbing weight of depression settled. Because of her own stubbornness, she’d lost any chance of a relationship with her father.

  Too late now.

  “You weren’t notified of his death?” Surprise sharpened Rio’s tone. The gaze he turned on her hardened. “That’s pure bullshit. You should have been informed.” Anger swept across his face and singed his tone. Anger for her. “Hell, you should have shared in his estate.” His fingers tightened around the wheel. “Any chance you challenged his will when you found out?”

  Some of the gray despondency hollowing her out lifted at his reaction. He was angry… for her. Nobody had ever been angry on her behalf before.

  “I just found out last week,” she reminded him. She settled back against her seat, some of the earlier contentment returning. His instant, unqualified support had eased some of the pain and regret. “Besides, I don’t think he had much of an estate. The money and properties came from Lena’s side of the family.”

  “But you’re not going to check, are you?” The question was accompanied by the strangest look. Almost approving.

  “Well, I don’t see any sense to that. I don’t need the money.” She shifted slightly to better watch him. Rio was much more interesting than the scenery.

  He shot her the oddest, kind of satisfied smile before turning back to the road.

  What the heck was that about?

  They chatted amicably for the rest of the drive, their newfound ease with each other stronger than ever. When they reached Hilde’s facility, Rio parked in the same spot as before.

  “Hang on a minute.” He pulled her mother’s diary out of the plastic console between them and shoved open his door, heading around the hood of the Jeep. After opening her door, he leaned in, took the hand she offered, and carefully pulled her to her feet. With her mother’s diary in his right hand, he tucked her under his left shoulder and paused to scan their surroundings. “Stay close.”

  She scoffed beneath her breath. Like there was any possibility of her wandering off when his arm was around her waist, his scent was tantalizing her nose, and his warmth was beckoning. She wasn’t crazy.

  The erotic brush of his hip against hers and the heat of the arm he’d wrapped around her waist brought the earlier heat between them back to a si
mmer. Goosebumps prickled her skin. Tingles caressed the back of her neck and swept down her spine. The sensual sensations were almost enough to distract her from the fact they were out in the open, vulnerable. Easy targets if someone was waiting with a gun.

  By the time they reached the door, the wild throb of her pulse was due more to her sense of vulnerability than his nearness. And then the glass doors burst open, and the solid walls of the rest home closed around them, calming the urgent beat of her heart.

  But even then, with the haven of walls and people closing around them, Rio kept his arm locked around her waist and her body tucked to his side. Heck, he even inched her closer until their clothes brushed with each step and his heat cocooned her.

  She might be mistaken, but every signal he shed indicated he wanted to resume their long-ago intimacy.

  Do you want to resume that relationship?

  It was a good question. One she didn’t know the answer to. Oh, the attraction was still there. The man still rocked her boat, got her body all hot and jazzed up. But pure physical attraction wasn’t enough these days. She was older, wiser. She needed the emotional component along with the physical attraction. Lust burned out quickly without the steady burn of love and trust.

  Looking back, there was no question she’d loved him. Those hellish, raging emotions had been driven by love, at least on her side. The real question was why—why had she loved him? What had it been about Rio that had reeled her in? Sure, she’d admired his self-sacrifice and courage, qualities he’d put on the line every time he deployed. And then there had been his loyalty toward his friends and the love and gratitude he’d felt for Rosaria.

  He’d never tried to hide his feelings for his grandmother.

  Maybe that had been the draw? The knowledge that he was capable of deep, everlasting love. No matter how annoyed or frustrated he’d become with his grandmother, his love for her had never faltered.

  Of course, he’d never shown her the respect, or trust, that he’d given Rosaria. He’d certainly never shown her the same depth of love. But she’d known the capability was there, along with the possibility he could shower that deep, abiding love onto her at some point down the road.

  For a girl with a pathological craving for love, that possibility had been enough to draw her to him like a starving kitten to a bowl of milk.

  “You okay?”

  Rio’s voice scattered the questions and brought her back to where they were, which gave rise to a whole new batch of questions.

  “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

  His arm tightened around her waist in a comforting squeeze.

  They found Hilde in the TV room, dozing in a recliner that swallowed her sparrow of a frame. A muted, huge television was mounted to the wall in front of the banks of recliners scattered through the area. Flashes of light and color caught her eye as the Golden Girls streamed across the screen.

  Becca pulled a well-padded metal chair next to the sleeping woman and reached for the fragile hand. “Hilde?”

  Hilde awoke slowly, dreams still wreathing the faded blue eyes. Heartbeat by heartbeat the daze cleared, and awareness returned to her milky gaze. “Becca? Is that you, dear?”

  “Yes, it’s me.” Becca scooted forward in the chair. “A couple more questions have come up. I hope you don’t mind that we stopped by without calling first.”

  “Of course not. It’s such a treat to see you again after all these years.” A weak but heartfelt smile stretched Hilde’s pale lips. The stonewashed gaze settled on Becca’s face, and sorrow replaced the pleasure. “You look so much like her, you know. Your mother, I mean. You really are the very image of her. The resemblance was startling when you were a child, but it’s even more so now. It’s like she’s standing before me again after all these years.”

  Becca carefully squeezed the fragile hand. She needed to carve out the time to visit a couple of more times before she left. Hilde was hovering on the cusp of life and death. She wouldn’t be around much longer.

  When Rio lifted and wiggled her mother’s diary, a silent reminder of why they’d come, Becca sighed and took the diary from him. She flipped to the last page with the sketch of the pendant and held the picture up to Hilde’s face.

  “Do you remember seeing Mom wearing this necklace?”

  Hilde pulled her fingers from Becca’s grip and slowly reached for the journal with trembling, blue-veined hands. “Yes. Of course. Your mother called it her engagement ring.” A shake of her head set Hilde’s platinum hair shimmering. “She was so happy. I’d never seen her so happy.”

  Becca’s mouth fell open in shock. Chills swept through her. She hadn’t expected anything to come of this trip for one simple reason. If Hilde remembered seeing her mother wearing the pendant, then Becca should have remembered seeing the necklace too.

  Was the necklace something else she’d forgotten from back then? Another gap in her memory? There were so many things she couldn’t remember from the day her mother had died, did the pendant need to be added to the list?

  “She called it her engagement ring?” Rio repeated, his voice quiet and calm, but the dark gray gaze that settled on Becca’s face was warm with concern.

  Hilde nodded, and the look she turned on Becca was sheathed in sorrow. “Your father gave it to her. It was a symbol of his promise, I suppose.” She sighed and stroked the sketch with unsteady fingers. “Of his love.”

  “When was that? Do you remember?” Rio asked, his voice as quiet and calm as before. But Becca could feel the intensity vibrating off him.

  With a frown, Hilde’s eyes went blank, as though she were looking back through the window of her mind. She stirred after a few seconds, her eyes refocusing on Becca’s face. “I believe it was the day she died. The day he asked Rachel to marry him. She showed me the inscription before Mathias and I left for town.”

  “He had it engraved?” Rio’s voice tightened, and he leaned forward slightly until he looked like he was balancing on his toes. “Do you remember what it said?”

  Hilde’s pale forehead wrinkled even more. “Something about soul mates and eternity.”

  Rio stood perfectly still for a moment before he shook himself. “And you’re sure she was wearing that necklace that morning you left for town—the last time you saw her?”

  The sharpness in Rio’s voice caught Becca’s attention, but it took her a moment to figure out what he was reacting to. She froze, the shock deep and chilling. If her mother had been wearing that necklace the morning of her death—then someone in the Hart family must have taken it from her. Otherwise, how had it ended up in Lena’s jewelry case?

  The question was, had her mother been alive or dead during its theft.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rio guided Becca through the lobby with a hand pressed to the small of her back. He could feel her tension. The muscles of her spine were rigid against his palm. The realization that her father, or at least her stepmother and possibly her half-siblings, were likely involved in the death of her mother had shaken her.

  Rattled her good.

  In the old days she would have released her pain in the loudest way possible. Shrieks. Wails. Screams.

  These days she internalized her stress. She held her emotions inside—letting the pain silently radiate through her.

  He wasn’t certain which coping mechanism was more painful to watch.

  “Do you think Dad or Lena killed my mom?” Her voice was so tight and emotionless it sounded robotic. Her arm tightened against the journal, pinning it to her chest.

  He slid his hand to her elbow and drew her to a stop. When she turned toward him, her white face stoic and heartbreaking, he carefully gathered her in his arms.

  “I don’t know.” He slid his palms down the rigid length of her spine and then back up. A shudder shook her but quickly stilled. “Your dad could have gotten the necklace from Chief Moyer after the investigation into Rachel’s death was concluded. Lena could have gotten it from him. Nothing Hilde said proves the Ha
rts were involved in whatever happened to your mother.” He paused for another round of back stroking, sensing the disappointment cresting in her. “But we have leverage now. We know the necklace belonged to your mom. Lena needs to explain how she ended up with it.”

  Becca sighed, her shoulders rising and falling beneath his hands. “She’ll just claim Adele has a different necklace.”

  “The inscription will prove otherwise.”

  Unless Lena had ground it out, which would be easy to do. But Rio withheld that possibility. Becca’s back was finally softening beneath his hands. No sense in getting her all torqued up again.

  She took a deep breath and stepped back, swiping her hands down her eyes and cheeks. When she squared her shoulders, she lifted her chin too, holding his gaze. “Okay, what’s next?”

  “We get you back to Emma’s house. I call in a couple of guys I trust to keep you safe, and I go question Lena.”

  Her grimace was full of derision. “You know she’ll just lie, right?”

  “Perhaps.” He shrugged and captured her good hand. Together they walked through the sliding glass exit. “But I know her tells. I’ll know if she’s lying.”

  “So you’re a human lie detector?” The smile she sent him was forced but grew more natural by the second. “Tell me, Detective Addario. Do you know my tells?”

  A grin threatened, but he held it in check. “I’m starting to recognize them.”

  When she suddenly gasped and jolted to a stop, Rio assumed she’d tripped. He turned toward her with the intention of sliding his arm around her waist to steady her—only to find…

  …Adam… gun…

  His heart stopped, then slammed into jackrabbit mode.

  He recognized his onetime best friend instantly. Same close-cropped blond hair. Same blue eyes. His face was thinner, harder. His gaze colder. But it was Adam. No question.

  He glanced at the weapon digging into Becca’s flesh.

  HK VP9… 9mm… ten to fifteen rounds.