“Why did you do it?” His threat went in one ear and out the other. “Did AgriProspects pay you to cover up Gran’s autopsy results? Did they make you botch the investigation in the first place?”
“Get out!”
“Your son tastes like cherries,” I whispered. “He smells like earth, petrichor, and wind in your face as you run through the trees, but tasting him”—I licked my lips—“it’s all sweetness.”
Jack reeled back.
“He loves me, you know. Can’t get e-fucking-nough of me, and isn’t trying too hard to cure the obsession. He’s surprisingly open to hearing the truth about you. I hope you weren’t planning on dying with fond memories of you in your son’s head, because I’ll make sure that he and everyone in this town sees you for the monster you are, Jack Sharpe.”
“I—”
The door swung open.
“Rain.” His soft, cool voice doused the rage in our eyes. “Come to me.”
I wasn’t able to refuse Cairo the other times he called me. This time was no different.
He was tall, imposing, and perfect filling the entrance. His usual casual clothes of cotton hoodie and worn jeans hung on his sculpted frame. His hair was damp and curling at the temples—like he raced straight here from a shower. I curled into his side, feeling the heat of his father’s glare as he put his arm around me.
“Dad,” Cairo began, tone even. “I heard you pulled Rainey in for questioning, so I came down here to save you wasting your time. We all know how important the first few days are in a murder investigation. A guy killed that woman and attacked me. Didn’t see his face, but I caught his polished black loafers as he was running out. Those aren’t exactly my girl’s style.”
“She could still be involved.”
“She’s not.”
Jack flushed an even darker shade of purple. “I will go where this investigation leads me, Cairo!”
“And I, as the witness, will have to tell the truth, whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Rainey didn’t kill that woman.”
He raised his chin, staring his nose down at us. “Are you... certain of what you saw, Cairo? Just how close are you two?”
Cairo held his father’s gaze steadily. “I’m certain I’ve got a fucked-up shoulder and no reason to lie about the murder of an innocent night manager. You don’t trust your son’s word?”
Jack’s jaw visibly ticced. The silence stretched past comfortable.
“Fine,” he said. “You can go.”
For the briefest second, Jack Sharpe changed. A figure claimed his space—less gray salting his pepper. Less girth lining his middle.
“You can go.”
I blinked and he was gone.
Cairo’s firm grip on my shoulder led me out.
I glanced at him as we passed a watchful Davidson in the hall. I sensed a headache coming on. I massaged my temples, wishing my backpack and Advil wasn’t still in class. “How much of that did you hear?”
“Enough,” he replied.
I wonder if he expected an apology, because none would come where his father was concerned.
“How’d you know I was here?”
“Everyone knows you’re here, baby. Your tasing is trending.”
“Mmm. Camera phones, the number one worst invention of our lifetime.”
“So,” he drew out. “I taste like cherries?”
“Most days,” I mused. “Others you’re kinda lemony.”
“Good to know. And when exactly did I fall in love with you?”
“That night in the woods.” I brushed my fingers over his belt, and the dueling wolves tattoo. “You found your mate and claimed her.”
He hummed.
If I expected more of a response, it wasn’t coming. It was possible the idea of love hadn’t crossed his mind till I put it there.
Cairo opened the truck for me to go in. Over his shoulder, I spotted Davidson, Officer Andres, and the sheriff peering through the glass door, watching us leave. Cairo climbed inside but didn’t start the car. He followed my gaze to the man who gave him his height, chin, and eyes.
“What’s this about your grandmother?”
I froze. Cairo truly had heard enough.
“Did Roan tell you about our conversation the night of the party?”
Cairo grasped my chin, turning me to face him. “He said he shared more of what we do than he should have. What did he leave out?”
“Wow. I wasn’t expecting him to keep what I said to himself, but then, I should know by now not to underestimate Roan Banks.”
He waited me out.
“My grandmother was poisoned.” I almost turned to the station and stopped myself. I couldn’t look in that man’s face while I talked about her. “I had a feeling something was wrong when she suddenly died without a will. I knew it like I know my name, and I wouldn’t let it go. I spent everything I saved up for college to get a private autopsy, and then I gave those results to your father. He said later that he never got them. Pretended he didn’t know me or the name Abigail de Souza.”