She paused a second before aiming for the stairs, and pushed a fistful of tangled curls off her face. Youre right about my not being objective. I have no interest whatsoever in being objective. If youll remember, Gabe, Im the one who first tracked down your PI agency for the family, when my mother was in that plane crash.
I remember.
She nodded. No one believed that Kate was alive. No one believed she could be. And I wanted you hired, because youre the best, and I always respected that you could do certain things that I cant. But when you took on that job, you didnt believe me about my mother being alive. You were no different than everyone else. Who was right that time, Devereax?
You were. But that was completely different
She shook her head, swiftly and violently, making the lump on her forehead ache like a bearbut she didnt care. Its exactly the same thing. You trust your head, the same way I trust my heart. Its because I love my brother that I know positively he never murdered anyoneand I dont care how rotten Monica Malone was, or what she did to him.
Gabe sighed. One of those exasperating masculine sighs that expressed centuries of archaic attitudes about womenand particularly her. There are a few minor flaws in that logic, but well forget those and move along. If you believe your brothers innocentand that all the physical evidence against him is just an inconvenient fantasythat would mean that the real murderer is running around loose. A damn good reason to stay out of this. You could be in danger if you start poking your nose in fires youre not qualified or prepared to put out.
For cripes sake, Gabe. Thats why Im here. To find those fires.
God, its like talking to a marshmallow. Nothing gets through. For the second time, he washed his face with an exhausted hand. Somehow I have the feeling Im not going to be able to talk you into going home.
Now, now. She patted his shoulder consolinglyas she hiked past him toward the basement stairs. Im going to help you. Trust me.
Two
Rebecca was as much help as a tornado. Given an option between the two evils, Gabe would have chosen the less chaotic.
That wasnt the redhead.
For the second time, he dipped the washcloth under the faucet, wrung it out and aimed the cool cloth at the lump on her forehead. Rain was still battering the windows like bullets. March was early for a thunderstorm in Minnesota. No point in complaining; at least it was rain, instead of snow. Still, thunder shuddered through the house, and the lights winked and blinked at every flash of lightning. Theyd be lucky if they didnt lose the electricity altogether.
Losing the electricity wouldnt bother him. Gabe was a resourceful man. Hed spent years in the Special Forces proving his ability to cope in even the most impossible of situations. Danger had never stopped him. Neither had adversity. Hed never counted on luck or God to solve a problemin the past.
Conceivably, though, a few concentrated hours with Rebecca Fortune could turn even a hard-core heathen into a praying man.
Yee-ouch. What, did you take lessons under Torquemada? Leave me alone, you bully.
He didnt stop working, didnt look up. Right now, Rebecca was propped up on the kitchen counter, her face tilted toward the sink light.
He had a clear view of the gash on her forehead, but the chances of keeping her pinned and still for long wouldnt make bookie odds. Its your own damn fault it hurts. Theres little specks of something in the cut. Maybe paint from that window frame. They have to come out. If youd quit squirming, Id get done a lot faster. I think you need a couple of stitches
Her response was swift. No.
And since God knows what you connected with to get all those scrapes, you probably need a tetanus shot
Her response was even swifter. I had one a couple of weeks ago.
Sure you did. And cats swim. Youve got a real talent for fictionwhich is a good thing, since I dont think youre gonna make it as a career criminal. Breaking and entering doesnt seem to be your thing at all.
Dont you start again with me, Devereax. I did this for my brother, and it wouldnt matter to me if Id ended up with all four limbs in casts and tractionId do it again.
Gabe believed her. That was what scared him.
Most people could be appealed to through reason. Most women had a concept of safety, personal limitations, how to protect themselves. Bring that stuff up with Rebecca and she went blank. Nobody home in those pretty green eyes. No synapse connections indicating any brain function at all.
He dropped the washcloth and angled her face toward the sink light to study the welt again. Finally, it looked clean, but the ugly gash marring that soft, cream white skin made him furious. At her.
The punch-in-the-gut response to touching that soft, cream white skin made him even more furious. At himself.
When a man was standing between a womans thighs, an arousal was a natural, unavoidable biological reaction. Gabe understood perfectly well why he was harder than a hammer. And one day out of 365, a guy was entitled to feel unreasonable for a couple of minutes.
But he was mad at her for that, too.
When he stepped back, Rebecca mistakenly seemed to assume she was free and promptly leaned forward. If you get off that counter, you die, he informed her. You need a bandage on that.
Sheesh. Its just a little lump. It cant be worth all this trouble.
If it isnt taped right, youll get a scar.
My brothers in jail on a murder one charge. Who the patooties could care about a stupid little scar? Weve wasted enough time on this thing.
One more minute and thisll be done. He stepped between her thighs again. He had to. He didnt trust Rebecca not to fly off the counter and start playing sleuth. Hed found the makings of a butterfly bandage in the antiquated first aid box. Leaning this close to her, Geronimo naturally stood at attention again, as stiff as a warriors lance.
Like his namesake, Geronimo should have figured out by now that a guy couldnt win every time. Gabe ignored that problem. He wished he could ignore her.
She was relatively cleaned up now. Technically, no one was supposed to remove anything from the estate until all the legal tangles surrounding Monica Malones death were settled. Those legal complications meant that the cupboards and drawers and closets in the house were still jammed with stuff. Gabe had had no trouble finding a towel, washcloth, the first aid supplies and some clothes. Hed also caught sight of some thirty-year-old Scotch in the top kitchen cupboard.
He was considering leveling it.
You done? she said hopefully.
Yeah, Im done.
Gabethanks. I really couldnt see the cut myself, not at the angle it was. I didnt mean to be a pistol. I appreciate the help.
No sweat. A total lie, Gabe thought. Everything about her was a sweat.
Rebecca wasnt vain or spoiled, he gave her thatand she sure as hell could have been both, given the enormous wealth and affluence of the Fortune family. It wasnt her fault that shed never been outside a protected environment. Her background just made her inescapable trouble. She was a hopeless idealist, plenty bright, but no street smarts, no practical life experience. Shed never run across the seamier, more realistic side of life. Shed never been near it. She was a believer in love, in white knights and honor, and as far as Gabe could tell, she didnt have a clue that there were predators out there who could hurt her.
Worse yet, she fancied herself a Nancy Drew, just because shed written a few mystery novels. The complications she could cause, helping with this investigation regarding her brother, were enough to give Gabe an ulcer.
So was she.
As she slid off the counter, his eyes homed on the view of a lace-trimmed bra and the shadow of cleavage. More shadow than cleavage. Thered been no way he could talk her into peeling off the muddy, soaking-wet sweatshirt until he found something else for her to put onhed yanked the V-necked black sweater from a drawer upstairs, and he assumed it had belonged to Monica Malone. The late Monica, like so many of the Hollywood glamour stars of her era, had been built like a battleship on the upstairs deck.
The V neck gaped on Rebecca as if she were an orphan waif playing dress-up. Her black jeans were finally dry, and snug enough to outline long, lean legs and a nonexistent tush. Since she couldnt sit without squirming, he strongly suspected shed bruised that bitsy tush, but for damn sure shed never admit it to him. There was far more pride than sense in those soft green eyes, and that about summed up the rest of her appearance, too.
The face was valentine-shaped, the skin too white, the eyes too dark, a mouth that looked dangerously butter-soft, and a nose with an impertinent tip. He guessed her height at around five-five. A respectable heightexcept next to himbut it was hard to resist calling her shorty when the least teasing got such a rise out of her.
Her hair was dark cinnamon, and at the moment layered to her shoulders in a snarled tangle of curls. Shed obviously had no chance or time to brush it, but hed spent time with her before this, and he knew her hair always looked like shed just climbed out of a mans bed after a long, acrobatic night. Since she was a Fortune, there was no question that she had the money for a decent haircut, so apparently she just didnt think about it. Maybe a haircut wouldnt help. Give her a butch cut and drape her in ironshe was still going to look skinny, sexy, half put together and, dammit, vulnerable.
Gabe had never been attracted to vulnerable-looking females, so he had no idea why she so revved his enginesand he didnt want to know. If and when a man was inclined to make a mistake, Gabe generally theorized, he might as well get his moneys worth and do it right. But, hell, not with her. Hed tangled with his share of women, and at thirty-eight he certainly knew when a risk was worth taking. He liked risk and he wasnt short on gutsbut no way was he a suicidal kamikaze pilot.
Rebecca He swiped a hand over his face again. As fast as shed sprung down from the counteras he should have knownshe was galloping toward the door. Where are you going?
Anywhere. Everywhere. I thought Id check out the scene of the murder firstit was in the living room, wasnt it? Then see what I could pry and poke up in Ms. Malones bedroom.
If youre headed for the living room, better aim right instead of left. Unless you have some interest in the pantry and butlers quarters. And listen, Nancy D. You leave stuff as you find it. You dont take anything. Id rather you didnt even touch anything without telling me
Sheesh, Gabe. Ive read a dozen books on police procedure. If I find anything remotely related to evidence, I sure as Pete know enough not to mess it up.
Somehow your reading those books doesnt reassure me too much.
For a vulnerable woman, she had the unholiest grin. I know, cutie. You really cant seem to help being a take-charge, overbearing, overprotective pain. Especially with women. God, thinking about you being a father just boggles the mind. Youd drive a daughter nuts, sweetie pie.
Since I dont plan to be a father, the problem is moot. Babies are the last thing on my mind.
Yet another core difference between usno surprise. If it werent for this immediate problem with my brother, babiesd be front-line priority for me. You should see all the research material Ive been collecting on sperm banks.
Sperm banks? You cant be serious.
On the subject of babies, I couldnt be more serious. But she grinned again. However, the only reason I mentioned sperm banks was because I couldnt resistI just knew youd get that look on your face, darlin. But right now, times wastingand babies just have no place on this nights agenda.
No, Gabe thought darkly, murder was apparently front-line on the ladys agenda now. And only Rebecca could bounce from sperm banks to murder in a single breath.
Well, he wasnt going to follow her around. He had an investigative job he was being paid to do, and his salary didnt extend to baby-sitting imaginative, recalcitrant redheadseven if she was kin to his boss.
He headed for the officeand yeah, he knew the mansion had one, because hed been here before. The wallpaper was textured silk, the windows were hung with poofy, powder-puff-looking curtains, and the desk had a brocade chair. It was about the sissiest office hed ever been in, and he doubted Monica Malone had ever paid a bill on her own, least of all in here. Either the cops or the lawyers had absconded with every record or financial statement in the file cabinets, as Gabe already knew. Still, he flicked on the fancy offset lighting and started yanking out drawers.
Someone could have missed something. Someone always did. As much evidence as had emerged in the case, there were still huge holes and gaps in information. He carefully, meticulously tore the place apartfor about twenty minutes.
About then he realized how silent it was in the rest of the house. Dead silent. Ideal for concentrating, except that it nagged at him like a bee sting that he couldnt hear Rebecca. Her labeling him overbearing still rankled. He wasnt remotely overbearing. He simply had ample previous experience with Rebeccaenough to know she was impulsively, unwittingly capable of causing no end of trouble. When a man was in the same house with a nuclear reactor, he was perfectly justified in worrying.
He found her in the long, sweeping living room, huddled in a chair, staring at the marble fireplace. Damn woman. She looked up at him with huge dark eyes. Im just trying to picture it. I know she was killed here.
Yes.
We know Jake was here. And that he was drunk. We know they argued, physically argued. Jake said Monica scratched him and came at him with a letter opener, and he had a stab wound in the shoulder to prove it. He admitted that he pushed her, that she fell against that marble fireplace and hit her head.
Monica and your brothers fingerprints were all over the scene. Gabe didnt add that no one elses identifiable fingerprints had surfaced. Rebecca already seemed to have a pretty good picture of the compelling evidence against her brother. She couldnt seem to stop wringing those slim white hands.
But he said Monica was alive when he left her. Natalie, his daughter, saw him later. We talked to him. It wasnt like a fight, not on his part. He only pushed her because she was attacking him with that letter opener, and he had no reason to lie about her still being alive. He could have claimed self-defense if shed died accidentally in a struggle like that. Im telling you, someone else was either already in the house or came in after Jake left. My brother did not kill her, Gabe.
Gabe crossed the room to the art deco bar. Nothing back there was quite as good as the thirty-year-old Scotch hed found in the kitchen, but at the moment hed have settled for Kentucky moonshine. Not for him. Being around Rebecca predictably inspired him to drink, but the immediate problem was the damn heartsick look in her eyes.