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.
He splashed some whiskey in a cut-crystal shot glass and carried it over to her.
She took the glass and sniffed it. Yuck, she said.
Shut up and level it, shorty.
If you call me shorty one more time she began, but then her voice trailed off. It was truly a landmark occasionshe actually didnt bristle up and argue with him. Instead, she lifted the shot glass and chugged the brew in an impressive three gulps. Once she finished coughing, she wiped her eyes with a shudder. Personally, Im with Mary Poppins. If you have to take medicine, you should be able to add a spoonful of sugar to it.
Imagining the taste of whiskey and sugar was enough to make him shudder, but he could see that the liquid courage did its job. Color shot back into her cheeks. She quit trying to knit those hands into a sweater. Gabe figured if there was ever going to be a two-second window when she could handle a dose of realism, it had to be now. No other suspects have surfaced, Rebeccanot a single name, much less a clear fingerprint. All the physical evidence points to Jakeand he had motive.
Monica was blackmailing him. I know. Milking him for shares of the Fortune company, from the time she found out Jake was born on the wrong side of the blanket. If she exposed him, he was afraid hed lose everything. I know all the family dirty linen, Gabe, and I know the mistakes my brother made. I know hed been drinking a lot and had been screwing up at work. That the pressure split up his marriage, and set him against Nate. It still doesnt mean he killed her.
It was pretty rare that two and two didnt add up to four, Gabe thought, but it was hard to argue with such blind loyalty. I just thought you might need to recognize how bad it looks, he said gently.
She surged out of the chair, suddenly as restless as a wet cat. You know what I recognize? That Monica Malone has somehow managed to hurt my family for two generationsshes dead now, and it still isnt over. The old witch was guilty of kidnapping, sabotage, infidelity, stalking, theft, blackmailyou name it, she did it against the Fortune family, starting way back when she had an affair with my father. I swear shes hurt us for the last time. Its got to stop.
Rebecca, he said patiently, go home.
No.
Maybe youre right. Maybe someone did come in this house after your brother left, and murdered her. But if theres a shred of proof in this house pointing in that direction, I promise Ill find it.
I know you would try. And I know youre good. But you dont have a womans eye, Gabe. Theres every chance I could see things that you couldnt.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. No point in continuing in that direction, so he tried another. Theres a tiny element you may not have considered, Red. Finding evidence that someone else murdered Monica doesnt mean youre going to be any happier. I know the whole story of how she preyed on your family. But thats the point. If there is another suspect, it could well be another member of your clan. Theres no shortage of motives all through the Fortune family.
It wasnt any of us, Rebecca said firmly.
I hate to tell you this, but itd be tough to prove that viewpoint in court. Some misguided folk might think you were coming from blind loyalty instead of from rational, objective thinking.
Well, theyd be wrong. That woman was a greedy, selfish, conniving shrew her whole life, Gabe. She could have had a thousand enemies besides us. Andoh God, I cant just sit here. Im going to start looking.
She shot toward the door and out before he could stop her. Not that Gabe would have tried. Reasoning with the woman was like trying to get through to a mule. He cast a longing glance at the bottle of whiskey.
He didnt believe she would find any evidence clearing her brother, but there was a slim chance it existed. And if the thousand-to-one odds that Rebecca was right paid off, there was still a real murderer out there. A cold-blooded killer wouldnt likely appreciate anyone poking and probing for the truth. Gabe had never mentioned that threat of danger to Rebecca, but the nasty, rotten thought crossed his mind that someone had better watch over her.
It wasnt his problem. If worse came to worst, he could sic her mama on her. Kate Fortune could make a battalion of marines behave with a look.
It was just for this night that he was stuck with her. When he got home, thered be ample time to dip into a consoling shot of whiskey. While he had to be around Rebecca, he definitely needed all the wits he could beg, borrow or steal.
Rebecca propped her fists on her hips. Monica Malones bedroom was about what shed expecteda study in a vain, greedy, self-indulgent woman.
Monicas world had definitely revolved around Monica. She had two oil portraits of herself on the wall, for Petes sake. Walk-in closets stuffed with plunging necklines and more shoes than Madame Marcos. The bed was heart-shapedhow corny could you get?with satin sheets and a plump satin headboard. Probably had to kill a whole whale to get all the bones and wiring in her corsets; the aging Monica had definitely been into pushing up, shoving out and, above all else, displaying her boobs. The vanity was sardine-packed with more bottles and vials than a cosmetic company could produceand since the Fortune family had founded a dynasty in cosmetics, Rebecca ought to know.
Shed already rifled the drawers and closets. While she was in the sybaritic malachite bathroom, shed also yanked down her jeansaway from Gabes eagle eyesto figure out why her fanny was hurting so much. There were certainly enough mirrors to display a nasty bruise already turning rainbow colors. Her forehead throbbed, her behind was killing her, and the long scrape on her chest and ribs refused to stop smarting.
Well, she could soak once she got home. Now wasnt the time. She refused to admit to being exhausted, even though it had to be three in the morning. Thunder boomed outside. The frustrated scowl on her forehead was just as dark and gloomy as the pitchy, witchy night outside.
Gabe didnt believe there was any evidence to find, she knew. He didnt want her around. She knew that, too. The rancid slug of whiskey had finally warmed her from the inside, though, renewing her determination. For some idiotic reason, shed actually hoped Gabe might believe in her brothers innocence. It was obvious he didntno different from everyone else.
It wasnt the first time Rebecca had felt alone. As her gaze scanned the width of the room, she automatically rubbed the gold charm bracelet on her wrist. The symbol of family always sustained her. As diverse as the Fortune clan was, Rebecca had always felt different, not one to fit in or follow anyone elses pattern or values. It didnt matter. It had never mattered. Family meant loyalty. Love. The precious and unbreakable bonds of blood. Shed find a way to clear her brothers name or die trying. Thered never been any question about it.
Looking around, she rubbed and rerubbed the gold chain, idly wondering if Gabe even had a family. He never spoke of siblings or family members. Neither a wife nor babies seemed anywhere on his priority list. He came across as a self-sufficient loner, but in some quiet corner of her mind, Rebecca sensed that he was a deeply lonely man.
Looking around, she rubbed and rerubbed the gold chain, idly wondering if Gabe even had a family. He never spoke of siblings or family members. Neither a wife nor babies seemed anywhere on his priority list. He came across as a self-sufficient loner, but in some quiet corner of her mind, Rebecca sensed that he was a deeply lonely man.
Hed undoubtedly crack up if she dared suggest such a thing, she thought, and then, abruptly, she forgot Gabe. Her eyes shot to her bracelet, then swiftly around the room. Jewelry. That woman had to have a ton of it. Undoubtedly the expensive stuff was stored in safe-deposit boxesor the lawyers had absconded with it through the whole estate probate thing. But Monica had never been photographed when she wasnt decked out in trinkets and baubles of all kinds. Surely there had to be some jewelry boxes around here.
There were.
She found two freestanding jewelry chests in the back of one closetboth packed to the gills. Crouching down, she pulled out all the little drawers and started pawing through yards of glittery bangles and cheap baubles.
Her mood picked up anticipation. No, she didnt know what she was looking for, didnt know where to look, didnt even know if there was anything to find. But if there were secrets to find about Monica, Rebecca strongly intuited they were in this bedroom. Maybe a guy hid secrets in his truck or his desk, but a woman always stored her secrets in her bedroom. It was her cache, her stash, her private hideaway, in a way a man would never understand.
In the fourth drawer down, her fingertips hit a bump. She ran over it again. Definitely a bump. Hustling, she upturned the drawer of baubles on the white closet carpet, shook the drawer good and then peered into the bottom. The bump showed up as a ripple in the satin lining.
The satin lining ripped out as easily as a candy wrapper.
Several snips of paper drifted out with it. One was a telegram so old that the yellow paper looked like a wrinkled napkinsome poor misguided dude announcing he loved Monica. Rebecca tossed that, then reached for the nexta love letter from another guy, whod signed himself Your faithful hound. She wondered dryly if the guy had been a dog as a lover, but then studied it more seriously. The love note was dated ten years before, too old to be of any relevance that she could imagine, but she tucked it near her knee anyway. If Monica valued the thing enough to hide it, it might mean something.
Most of the paper scraps were simply personal memorabilia, nothing that Rebecca could imagine having even a remote relationship to the womans murder. Rebecca grimaced as she found more evidence of Monicas perfidy. She found proof that Monica had been behind the attempted theft of the secret youth formula, had encouraged Allies stalker, had people break in the lab and had even been behind the threats to deport Fortune scientist Nick Valkova threat that had prompted their marriage, the first of the rash of weddings in the Fortune family. At least Monica had done something right. But none of this was any use in clearing Jakes name.
Until she came to the letter. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she read, then reread, the last missive.
It was a carbon copy of a letter, written not to Monica, but by Monica. Although the message contained only a few short lines, it was dated ten days before her death, threatening a woman named Tammy Diller about showing up for their meeting or risking more trouble than you ever dreamed of.
Pay dirt.
Elation thrummed through Rebeccas pulse. Something about the womans name struck a vague chord in her memory, but she couldnt place itand that didnt immediately matter, anyway. The letter itself was enough. Maybe the missive was no proof that her brother was innocent. Maybe it wasnt proof this Tammy woman had done anything, either. But it was sure proof that another person had been in the picture around the time of Monicas deathand their relationship hardly sounded amicable.
Ignoring every ache and pain, Rebecca scrambled to her feet. Handling the letter as if it were precious china, she jogged out of the bedroom and into the hall, yelling loudly for Gabe.
Later it occurred to her that her screaming might have aroused his alarm and made him think shed done something to half kill herself, because she saw him fly up the winding front stairs three at a time. Just then, the only things on her mind were elation and relief and excitement that shed found something real and concrete that could link someone else to Monicas murder besides her brother.
When Gabe flew toward her, she flew straight at him.
It was perfectly logical to throw her arms around him. Any woman would have understood the perfectly natural, emotional impulse.
Gabe, though, didnt quite seem to see it that way.
Three
The way Rebecca was charging down that hall, Gabe naturally assumed demons or monsters were after heror a killer. Maybe hed been retired from the Special Forces for the past seven years, but certain responses were as well-honed as instincts for him. He was braced to yank her behind him, out of harms way, and protect her. He was braced to confront serious danger.
He was braced for just about anything but the damn fool woman throwing her arms around him. The exuberant hug was so sudden. And maybe she aimed that sassy smack for his cheek, but it collided an inch short. On his mouth. With the impact of a bullet.
Gabe had been shot. Twice. The experience was something a man never forgot, although it hadnt hurt either timenot at the instant of impact. It had felt more like a sudden burn, a burst of stunning heat.
Bullets had nothing on Rebecca.
Hed known she was trouble. Known at some gut-instinct level that keeping his hands off her could avert the core source of that trouble. But initially he grabbed her because his brain was responding to the threat of danger. Initially adrenaline was pumping through his veins at the speed of light. A millisecond later, that adrenaline rush was sabotaged by the flooding pump of straight testosterone.
The long hall was dim and dark, so empty that his heartbeat echoed loudly, bouncing off the silence. Whyever in hell shed hugged him, her head suddenly reared back. Velvet green eyes connected with his. The huge smile curving her lips suddenly faded, softened. She didnt drop her arms. She didnt do anything any sane, normal, rational woman would do. She lifted up on tiptoe, not unlike a kitten hell-bent on being curious, and kissed him.
She tasted like spring winds and innocence. She tasted like nothing that had been in Gabes life for a long, long timenothing hed missed or even wanted, dammit. Until that moment. Her mouth was softer than a babys behind, the scent of her skin as wholesome as Ivory soap, and something was in one of the hands that scratched his neck. Paper? But her other hand suddenly clutched the dark hair at his nape, and her small breasts flattened against his chest, and suddenly Gabe couldnt breathe.
All right, he tried telling himself. Its all right. There was nothing happening here but a little overflow of testosterone. Just hormones. Hed been celibate for a while, and he damn well hated being celibate, and even if Rebecca drove him nuts, she was two-hundred-percent female. The sizzle of desire bolting through his system was natural. Simple biology.
Nothing seemed real simple at that moment, though. His fingers found their way into that messy tangle of red hair, so silky, so soft, and her mouth opened under the pressure of his. Her tongue was wet, as small as a secret, and if that woman had a repressive instinct in her, it didnt show. She kissed with abandon. She kissed like pure, untouched emotion. She kissed like shed never been on a roller-coaster ride before and was utterly captivated by the whole experience.