Lisa Jackson's Bentz And Montoya Bundle Part 110

Don't trust him, don't trust him, do NOT trust him!

Anxiety skittered up her spine. Somehow she managed to flip on the light over the sink. She caught sight of her weak reflection in the window: a thin woman with haunted eyes, pale lips, and short, streaked hair that, in some spots, had barely started to grow out to cover the scars. "You said...You, uh, said you didn't think I'd be here.... Why were you...Oh G.o.d!" She gasped as he moved into the room, into the illumination.

Dried blood so dark, it seemed brown had stained the hem of his white T-s.h.i.+rt. "Cole?" she whispered, horrified. What had he done? Terror widened her eyes.

He followed her glance down, noticing the stain. "It's not like that. Eve, you know I had nothing to do with this."

"With...?"

Her body was shaking from the inside out. Her stomach roiled. Nausea climbed up her throat, and she dry-heaved into the sink. The gun nearly fell out of her hand as she clutched the edge of the counter for support. Her father was dead? Dead? Dead? She retched again, spitting bile, her brain pounding with denial. She retched again, spitting bile, her brain pounding with denial. No! No! No, no, no, no! No! No! No, no, no, no! She couldn't, wouldn't believe it. Cole was a practiced actor, a lawyer, for crying out loud. A liar! She couldn't, wouldn't believe it. Cole was a practiced actor, a lawyer, for crying out loud. A liar!

"He called me...I thought it was him, and I went to see him. When I got there, he didn't answer the door. It was unlocked. I went in and found him in the den."

She looked up, wiped the back of her hand across her lips. "How?" she squeaked, fighting tears and the grasping fear that clawed at her brain.

Cole's arms had fallen to his sides. He looked like h.e.l.l. His eyes were sunken, his usually tanned face pale. "It was just like Roy, Eve. Just like Roy. Your father's throat was slit. There was blood all over.... Oh Christ, Eve, it was-"

"Stop."

"-the same."

"I don't know why you're here, why you're doing this to me. It's unfathomable.... It's..."

"I tried to revive him and failed. He's dead, Eve."

Blood rushed noisily through her brain. "You just got out of prison. Today. Why would anyone...anyone but you you kill my father?" She drew in a shaky breath and felt sick again. From the corner of her eye, she saw her cat pause in the shadows of the hallway. kill my father?" She drew in a shaky breath and felt sick again. From the corner of her eye, she saw her cat pause in the shadows of the hallway.

"Eve." He looked stricken. "I had no reason to kill him."

"Since when are your actions reasonable, Cole? You tried to kill me, and now my father...Why are you here now? To finish me off?" she said, fighting down hysteria.

"Stop it, Eve. For Christ's sake, listen to me. I thought you were in Atlanta."

"Why the h.e.l.l are you here, Cole? Why did you come here if you thought I was still in Atlanta?"

He hesitated.

"Don't," she whispered. "Don't lie to me." Samson, as if sensing the tension in the air, took off, disappearing into the shadows. Eve straightened, her back stiffening though she felt tears tracking down her face. "The least you can do is tell me the truth."

One hand closed into a fist then opened. "I was going to hide some things here," he admitted.

"What? Here?" She sniffed loudly and shook her head. She didn't believe him. She swiped at her tears with the sleeve of her robe. "What things? Incriminating evidence?"

He s.h.i.+fted his weight from one foot to the other.

"What things?" she demanded.

"Money."

"Money?" she repeated, shaking her head.

"Yes. And a briefcase."

"Yours?"

Another beat.

"Whose briefcase, Cole?"

"Your father's."

Every muscle in her body froze. "You stole my father's money and his briefcase?" she repeated, thunderstruck. This was all so bizarre. So surreal. Unbelievable. And yet, staring at him, seeing his bleak, solemn expression, the pain in his eyes, she was nearly convinced he was telling the truth, or part of it. But her father? Was he really gone? Killed? A sudden chill, cold as December, slid over her skin.

"The money was mine."

"Yours?"

"I'd hidden it, a long time ago."

"Oh Cole-"

"It's the truth, d.a.m.n it! Something I learned a long time ago from my old man."

"The con artist?"

"Who would know better about needing an emergency fund?" he asked, walking farther into the kitchen, out of range of the window, keeping one eye on the revolver she still held loosely. "I'd already picked up the cash when I got the call-a weird call-so I went to his place and found him lying on the floor. I tried to revive him, but it was too late. So I called 911. Then, before I took off, I saw his laptop. I stuffed it in the briefcase."

"You stole from a dead man, a murdered man." Eve could scarcely get the words out. She couldn't process what he was saying.

"I thought I might be able to figure out what's going on," Cole said tensely. "Why your father was killed. Who's responsible. Was it because of something he knew, something related to Roy's murder?"

"That's a job for the police."

"Is it? Because they didn't do such a bang-up job with Roy, did they?"

Eve pressed a hand to her forehead. "You'll be arrested for...tampering with evidence, leaving the scene, I don't know what all. You're in big trouble."

"That's why I'm here."

"I can't...think," Eve murmured, but Cole went on.

"The two murders have got to be connected. Roy Kajak had been a patient of your father's-"

"Years ago."

"Look, Eve, no one's going to try and figure out what really happened. The police aren't going to look any further than me."

"Do you blame them?" she demanded, but her voice had no volume, no power. "You just got out of jail today, and now my father is dead. Look at you. Look at his blood. It's all over you." She was hanging on to the shreds of her sanity for all she was worth.

"I'm being set up, Eve. I'm not a killer. And if I were, I'd be a h.e.l.luva lot smarter. I wouldn't be here with you now. Someone called me tonight. I thought it was your old man. He said, 'I've got evidence.'"

Eve flashed back to the night Roy had called her, the panic in his voice, his insistence that she come. I've got evidence. I've got evidence.

"That's right," he said, watching her face. "Just like the call you got from Roy." He glanced down at the gun quivering in Eve's outstretched hand. "Oh for Pete's sake, Eve! Give me that. You're not going to shoot me or anyone else." He wrested the revolver from her nerveless fingers, and she didn't fight him. She was too stunned, too disbelieving, and he was right. She'd never thought him brainless. But he was pa.s.sionate, that much she knew. If her father had set him off...

Cole checked the chamber of the gun and sighed. "I thought so." He tossed the useless weapon onto the counter next to her cell phone.

"You have an alibi?"

"No." He stared at her long and hard, his eyes an intense steel blue that had always caused her heart to pound, though now she was too numb to care. "Someone's behind this, whatever it is, and I think it's a lot bigger than I can imagine. But your father and Roy were killed for a reason. This wasn't random, or coincidence. Someone waited waited until I was released." until I was released."

"I can't believe it." Anxiety, fear, and disbelief twisted in her brain, calling up the d.a.m.ned headache again. She reached for the kitchen phone.

"What're you doing?" he demanded.

"Calling my father's house."

"Eve, he's gone. I already phoned the police. They've got to be at the farm by now. They'll answer and come directly here."

But the call was connected, already ringing through. No one was picking up. Eve swallowed back her fear. Come on, Dad, answer! Come on, Dad, answer! Her heart was beating a thousand times a minute, nervous sweat rising on her back and palms. When Terrence Renner's voice mail answered, she said, "Dad? This is Eve. I'm sorry to call you so late, but I thought you'd want to know that...that I'm back in town.... I, um, should have called earlier. Call me back." Her heart was beating a thousand times a minute, nervous sweat rising on her back and palms. When Terrence Renner's voice mail answered, she said, "Dad? This is Eve. I'm sorry to call you so late, but I thought you'd want to know that...that I'm back in town.... I, um, should have called earlier. Call me back."

She hung up, clutching the phone tightly, as if it were a lifeline.

Cole was pale as death.

She said, "No one answered."

Cole took the phone from her hands as fresh tears welled in her eyes. "Oh, darlin'," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and folding her s.h.i.+vering body against his. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"He can't be dead. He can't be...."

Strong, steady arms held her firmly and for a second she collapsed against him, accepting the grief that rose like a giant within her. The fingers of one hand curled over his biceps, and she fought the urge to strike out, to flail at him, to scream and rail to the heavens. Instead she held the feelings inside, apart from silent tears.

For just a minute.

Just long enough to catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window, a ghostly image of two lovers entwined. She squeezed her eyes closed. This was a mistake of gargantuan proportions, an irreversible error. She couldn't trust him. Not for a second! Stiffening her spine, she pushed away from him. "Leave."

"What?"

"Get the h.e.l.l out of here, Cole." Still trembling inside, she crossed her arms under her chest and glared up at him. "I don't need you or want you here. If you're telling the truth, then the police are going to show up here soon, and they'll be all over you. You'll be back behind bars before you can think twice. If you're lying and have come here for some other reason, to get back at me, to play a cruel joke, or whatever, I don't want anything to do with you, and I will call the police. Make no mistake. Either way, you'll spend the rest of your first night as a free man back in jail."

"I'm not lying."

She believed him but steeled herself. "Fine. Go."

"Eve."

"Really, Cole. Get out."

The muscles in the back of his neck tightened. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"I'm fine."

He hesitated. "I don't have a phone. If you want to call-"

"I won't."

He seemed nearly convinced, when his gaze landed on the table where all the sc.r.a.ps of newspaper were spread. "What're these?" he demanded, and before she could say a thing, he switched on the Tiffany lamp suspended over the table. He started to pick up one of the clippings, and she said, "No! Don't touch anything!"

"Why? What're you doing?" He scanned a few of the articles. "Making a sc.r.a.pbook? About the days you spent at Our Lady of Virtues?"

"No."

"Pinking shears?" He sent her a sideways glance full of questions. "Wait a minute. These are all about Faith Chastain."

"I know."

"She was Abby Chastain's mother."

"So?"

Frowning, he read each of the articles. "Abby Chastain is Montoya's fiancee."

"Reuben Montoya? The detective who..."

"Yeah. That one." He looked baffled. "So, why are you interested?"

"I'm not....I mean, these were left in my car."

"What? When?" When?"

"Today, I think." She explained quickly, and the muscles in his face tightened.

"Why today? Why now?"

"I don't know...but..."

"What?" he demanded.

In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. "I got a couple of weird phone calls today." she thought. "I got a couple of weird phone calls today."

"Today?"

She nodded then told him about the calls-the one on the road and the one less than half an hour earlier with its raspy voice that warned her, "He's free."

Cole studied her soberly as he listened to her narrative. His eyes narrowed and his lips became a thin crease, but he held his thoughts in check.

Eve finished with a helpless gesture in his direction. "The next thing I know, you're pounding on my back door."