Chapter Fifteen
Devyn
Talia doesn’t look like something the cat dragged in, and I’m grateful Beau let her get some sleep. I don’t know him, but Rick trusts him. That will have to be enough for me for now. I need to give Talia space to be herself, and if Beau can help instead of hinder, I could loosen my grip.
At nine, we all meet in Rick’s office, and true to what he’d assumed last night, Beau has scheduled meetings for Rick back-to-back. I’ll have plenty of time to talk to the crane operator and sort through more of the accident reports, interviews, and evidence. Rick’s humoring me, but eventually he’ll get aggravated and want to go back to Old Harbor. I need to find what I need to find soon or give up and admit the accident was only an accident.
“You need to stay here,” Beau says, his eyes on Talia, as he leans against the window near the conference table where the boxes we looked through yesterday still sit. Piles of paper are where I left them, waiting for me to sort through it all again, and I have no doubt I will.
Beau’s eyes are hooded, broody, and he’s different from the happy-go-lucky man we met yesterday.
“I can help,” Talia insists, hands to her hips and a scowl on her mouth. She’s dressed in black dress pants and a low-cut green blouse, and as she moves, I catch glimpses of her lacy black bra.
I’m sore from the way Rick went at me last night, and we didn’t fall asleep until long past midnight. Something was on his mind, something more than the heavy conversation we’d already had, but he never asked me to not meet with the crane operator. He wanted to, though. Opened his mouth several times on the drive from the penthouse to the office building, and each time he’d look at me out of the corner of his eyes and press his lips into a firm line.
He doesn’t like it, but he’ll let me do what I want.
Rick’s leaning against his desk, sipping a cup of coffee. He looks good, his hair brushed back, his jaw clean-shaven, dressed in a dark suit and a dark green and black tie. When I commented, he said he wanted to think about me, the green matching my eyes.
“Don’t make me say it, Talia,” Beau says, and she deflates and slips the jacket from her shoulders.
“Fine.” She turns away and helps herself to coffee from the service Beau’s assistant wheeled in when we arrived. Rick understands, and we’re all drinking decaf, much to Beau’s comic dismay.
I want to hear him say it. I want to know why Talia would back down so quickly. The smolder in Rick’s eyes tells me he wishes he had the same power over me, but with his help, I slide my arms through the sleeves of the jacket I left at Beau’s, he being so thoughtful and bringing it to the office for me.
“You can do some homework. I won’t be gone long,” I say.
She shoots me a withering look, but I don’t have to remind her how scared she was at the site.
“Be careful,” she says, her mug trembling in her hand.
“Don’t worry about that.”
Rick escorts me to the elevator, punches the Down button with his thumb, and waits with me. “The driver won’t let you out of his sight. Tony lives in an old residential section of Cedar Hill. Lots of older homes, kids, dogs. It’s not the same as being out in the open at the hotel. I don’t think Stevie will take a shot at you on a neighborhood street.”
I pat his cheek, brush my fingers over the scar. I like reminding him I see it. He probably doesn’t care for it, but I want him to always know his injuries will never matter to me. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
He grabs my wrist and squeezes. “Don’t be glib. I don’t like this, but you’re determined to do what you want. It’s an admirable trait, as I possess it myself, but I just found you, Devyn. You can’t let anything happen.”
“I’ll be careful. Talia’s not strong enough to lose me yet.”
“Neither am I,” he says as the doors open.
I step into the empty lift, and no one gets in with me.
He blocks the doors open. “Mack’s downstairs waiting. Stick with him. I mean it. He’s an expert shot and he’s not going to let anything happen to you.”
“You make it sound like I want to get hurt.”
“Things happen, they come out of nowhere. I wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t true. Stay safe.”
He lets the doors close, and I lift a hand before they block him out.
It’s disconcerting that Stevie Johansson knows I’m in Cedar Hill and wants to do something about it. Everyone believed her when she accused me of slander. She keeps the entire city in her pocket, including the Times, who is supposed to be unbiased and prints only the truth. What does she have to be afraid of? I was on to something, and if I hadn’t believed it while digging around, I did after she threatened me. People don’t do that kind of shit if they’re innocent, but Rick’s accident has nothing to do with her distributing Sweet.
The driver is waiting, standing next to the same black SUV both Beau and Rick seem to favor. He opens the back door for me. “Miss Scott.”
“Thanks.”