Munro Family: The Investigator Part 18

He grimaced. He may not have been willing to argue in Darryl's defence after discovering the man's penchant for dishonesty, but that didn't mean he was ready to concede the former commander was capable of murder.

"One thing we do know is that she didn't tell Daisyblu about any change in plans."

Kate sighed. Turning back to the computer screen, she scrolled through the messages again. Her mouse stopped on an email dated July ninth, a day before her mother had been scheduled to leave. It was another email from Daisyblu.

All good here. Are you ready?

Kate rolled the wheel on her mouse, cursing when her fingers couldn't make it move fast enough. With another click, she opened the Sent items and scrolled through them. She stopped when she reached an email dated the same date. She bit her lip and clicked on it.

I'm good to go. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be late.

Kate turned to Riley, a haunted expression on her face. "I guess we now know she was alive until then."

Riley nodded. "It appears so."

"You're right. Now that we know Darryl is computer literate, we can't a.s.sume it was Mom who wrote it."

Riley compressed his lips and didn't answer. Kate turned back to the computer. With her jaw set at a determined angle, she returned to the Deleted box and once again, scrolled through the list of emails. She came to a halt on a message that had been received nearly two weeks earlier.

Riley's heart skipped a beat. The email was from Kate.

Kate opened the message and tensed, even though she must have known what it contained. Riley read it over her shoulder.

Mom, you still haven't responded to my emails. I've tried calling your cell, but you don't answer. Is everything all right? I'm worried about you. I'm coming over to visit-I'll book the next flight to Sydney and call you when I arrive.

Riley waited for her to lift her gaze to his. When she did, he almost winced at the bleakness in them.

"I'm not sure what was going on." Her voice was toneless. "Her emails had become very brief, her phone calls a lot less chatty. She always used to tell me about what she'd been doing-functions she'd attended, things like that. Darryl had retired, but there was still the odd invitation to a charity dinner or other similar events. He's a man much admired."

Her caustic tone as she spoke about Darryl was not lost on Riley and after meeting the arrogant son of a b.i.t.c.h, he could understand it.

"But something was different those last few weeks, before she stopped emailing altogether. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time, but looking back, and now knowing what we do about her connection to Daisyblu, I have to say, her emails started to sound like good-byes." Her voice cracked on the last word.

As her words sank in, Riley stared at her. Anger started a slow burn in his gut.

"I don't get it," he said, shaking his head. "Why the h.e.l.l would you automatically think Darryl had done away with her? The very night you waltzed into town, you as much as demanded I arrest him for murder, yet before you'd even boarded the plane, you had suspicions that she was planning to leave him."

A dark-red stain spread across her cheeks. Her eyes shot daggers.

"It's not what you're thinking. There's no way she would have disappeared without telling me or contacting me right away. She, of all people, knew what it was like to be the one left behind. All the questions, the silent recriminations. Searching the eyes of every stranger she met. She told me about the agony she went through when I disappeared. She'd never have done that to me."

"Maybe she thought it was what you deserved?"

Kate stumbled away from the counter and paced the small confines of the room. Fury emanated from every pore. She rounded on him, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng blue fire.

"My mother would not have done that. She didn't have a vindictive bone in her body. She loved me too much to put me through the h.e.l.l she'd suffered."

"That didn't stop you." Riley braced himself as she came at him.

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she spat. She raised her right hand and struck him hard across the face. His cheek stung. He seized her wrist before she could attempt a second blow.

"I was fourteen," she panted. "Little more than a child. I hated the thought of leaving my mother, but I hated the thought of staying even more. I gave no thought to the effect my leaving would have on her." She struggled to free herself from his hold, tears spilling down her cheeks. "All I wanted was to escape."

The helplessness in her eyes tore at his heart as fiercely as the sobs that shook her small frame.

"She wouldn't have left me like that. I just know it. I know it. I-I miss her. I miss her so much." Her voice hitched.

He pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. She cried and cried, tucked within the safe coc.o.o.n of his arms.

Gradually, she quieted and relaxed against him. He tried not to breathe in too deeply of the clean, sweet scent of her hair, or think too much about her soft curves that melted against him.

"We need to stop doing this," he murmured. "It could become habit forming."

She pulled away slightly and lifted her face. Her eyes were wide with sadness and vulnerability. She stared at him. Her lips parted on an intake of breath and his gut clenched in response.

He took her chin and tilted her face toward him. The tight rein he'd kept on his self-control snapped and he brought his lips down to hers. The touch of their mouths, whisper soft, left him yearning for more. Taking her silence for acquiescence, he did what he'd been longing to do from the moment she'd walked through the doorway of the police station.

Crus.h.i.+ng her against him, his mouth claimed hers in a kiss fueled by long pent-up pa.s.sion. Blood thundered in his ears, rus.h.i.+ng through his arteries to center in his groin. His erection pushed against the softness of her belly and he struggled to contain himself when she stood on tiptoes, wrapped tentative arms around his neck and pressed even closer.

A groan rumbled deep in his throat and still he kissed her. The lips that had driven him to distraction were even softer than he'd imagined and enveloped him in sweetness and warmth. For all her outward sophistication, there was a shy innocence about her and he drank it in like a man dying of thirst.

With his heart hammering against his chest, he broke contact and lifted his head, breathing hard.

Kate looked equally affected. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her eyes had darkened to indigo and were filled with equal parts astonishment and fear.

Fear? That couldn't be right. What the h.e.l.l was she fearful about?

But she'd already stepped away from him, hugging herself, her arms wrapped defensively around her slender waist.

He took a step toward her and she reared back. "Please, don't."

He frowned. "Kate-?"

"Riley, just go."

"I'm sorry. I thought-"

"I know. I know what you thought and I'm sorry. Please. I want you to leave."

He stood with his hands clenched at his sides-confused, bewildered.

Her breathing had slowed and she seemed to have recovered from their kiss. It was more than he could say for himself. Somehow, the fact that she seemed to have brushed off their shared pa.s.sion with barely a second thought irritated the h.e.l.l out of him.

His jaw tightened. "I guess I misread the signals. I apologize. It won't happen again."

He turned away and unlatched the door. Stepping through the opening, he walked out into the icy night and tried to ignore the cold despair that weighed down his soul.

Kate stared at her reflection in the mirror above the cracked Formica sink. She pushed back her hair with hands that trembled. Splas.h.i.+ng cool water onto her hot cheeks, she tried to forget the look of abject confusion on Riley's face.

The quiet click of the door as it closed behind him had echoed through her heart. More tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she refused to allow them pa.s.sage. She'd done all the crying she was going to do over the s.h.i.+tty hand she'd been dealt. It had ruined her chances of ever having a normal relations.h.i.+p. That was something it seemed she'd always known. Somehow, though, with Riley, she'd allowed herself the faintest glimmer of hope that this time, things might be different.

Then he'd kissed her. More than kissed her. He'd consumed her. His pa.s.sion had exploded in her heart and had turned her molten with need. The yearning deep inside to hold him close and never let him go had been painful in its intensity and had almost overwhelmed her.

Then the fear had set in. The fear that her past would rise up and contaminate anything they could ever have together. The terror that when it really came down to it, she'd never be able to let him touch her in the way she knew he'd want to.

So she'd pushed him away, like she'd pushed all of them away, even the most persuasive ones-the ones she'd thought would make her forget, only to discover they couldn't. No one could.

She couldn't keep doing the same thing, over and over. She had to deal with it. With a groan, she pressed her face into a soft, clean towel and scrubbed her skin dry. A decade ago, she'd walked away from the nightmare that was her life and had vowed not to look back. But now there was so much more at stake... She was d.a.m.ned if she'd let her past continue to dictate the terms of her future.

With renewed determination, she flicked off the bathroom light and walked back to the bed. The smell of Riley's aftershave lingered in the air, on her s.h.i.+rt. Her thoughts ricocheted back to him and the tightness in her chest returned tenfold. Regret, sharp and bitter filled her mouth.

If only...

If only things were different. If only she could stand to have him hold her, have him love her.

But it was too late for 'if onlys'. She'd seen the look in his eyes, right before the door had closed. At this point, she knew he wouldn't settle for anything less than a full explanation-and that was if he was ever willing to listen to anything she had to say again. She might have lost her chance.

She had to go to him. She had to make him see that the problem was her, not him. As lame and as trite as it sounded, it was the truth. And he deserved that, at the very least.

Throwing herself face down onto the coverlet, she buried her head into the soft mountain of pillows and recalled the feel of his arms as they'd held her close. The memory of his lips on hers made the longing deep inside her almost unbearable.

She thought of her mother and the choices she'd made. She thought of Darryl and wondered for the hundredth time if he'd taken her mother's life or arranged to do away with Rosemary another way. Or had she simply left, as Darryl claimed?

Kate had told Riley her mother would never leave without confiding in her, but what if she was wrong? What if her mother had been desperate enough to toss aside all of her concerns about how her daughter would react and simply packed up and left? What if she was wrong about Darryl, too?

Hot, swift denial twisted Kate's lips. She didn't believe for a moment he was innocent. He was evil to the core.

She recalled the way he'd spoken to her outside his house, the way his eyes had crawled over her skin, leaving her feeling dirty and ashamed. And she remembered the way he'd spoken about her mother. What had he said about the laptop?

'Your mother was never off it. Why she found it so interesting, I'll never understand'.

Kate's heart pounded. She lay very still. Her mind latched onto the words again and she tried to slow her thoughts.

Your mother was never off it... Why she found it so interesting...

And then she realized what had caught her attention: Darryl had referred to her mother in the past tense. Why would he do that? If he truly thought she was alive, he'd have phrased it differently. Wouldn't he?

Kate rolled over onto her back and hugged her knees tightly to her chest. Her breath still came fast and she did her best to steady it. She needed to keep her head clear so she could think.

She needed to call Riley.

CHAPTER 18.

"You'll have to try harder than that if you want to beat me, Munro."

Riley gritted his teeth and sent the squash ball slamming into the wall right above Chase's head, welcoming the discomfort in his muscles.

"So, you're taking body shots now?" Chase's grin faded at Riley's fierce, narrow-eyed look of determination. "You should have warned me about how seriously you take your squash."

"Hey, you're the one who agreed to the game." Riley smashed the ball, watching in satisfaction as it bounced off the front wall above the red line and onto the opposite side, completely bamboozling his opponent.

Chase frowned. "What's got you so riled up?"

Riley's jaw clenched. He wasn't about to tell him about Kate. He'd already spilled too much. He didn't need another round of gibing. Besides, he was still confused about what had happened.

The ball whizzed by his head and bounced off the wall beside him. His racquet came up instinctively but he missed it by a mile.

Chase yelped in surprise and pumped the air with his fist. "Score one for Barrington. Munro, you're going down."

Riley forced a smile. He pushed the thoughts away and buried them deep. He'd think about it later, when he was alone, when he was in a better frame of mind to deal with the complicated drama that was Kate Collins and the blows she'd dealt to his psyche.

With a well-practised flick of his wrist, his racquet connected once again with the small rubber ball and sent it flying toward the wall. There was nothing like hard physical activity to push other things from his mind.

"Hey, Munro? I think your phone's ringing."

Glancing to the back corner of the court where he'd left his things, Riley saw the screen of his cell light up. His stomach somersaulted with a mix of dread and antic.i.p.ation. It was probably Kate. She'd left three messages already, one last night and two this morning. He wasn't ready to talk to her.

"Don't worry about it. We're on a day off. I don't know why I didn't switch it off," he replied, serving the ball up again.

"Yeah, might as well make the most of it." Chase grinned and lobbed the ball low on the wall. Riley didn't even bother to go after it.

"Another one to me, Munro. You'd better pick up your game before I whip your a.s.s."

Riley's eyes gleamed. "Not in this lifetime, Barrington."

Kate listened as Riley's phone once again went to voice mail.

"Hi, this is Detective Riley Munro. Please leave a message." The greeting was short and to the point and getting way too familiar.

She sighed and left another message. "Riley, I really need to talk to you. Please call me. Please."

Hitting the end b.u.t.ton on her phone, she tossed it onto the counter next to the TV and dropped down onto the unmade bed. With her head in her hands, she fought off feelings of defeat.

He was avoiding her. Now, right when she'd made a breakthrough, he didn't want to talk to her. And all because of her reaction to a stupid kiss. He thought her reaction was because of him. She'd seen it in his face. The hurt, the rejection. He'd thought she was rejecting him.

The truth was she liked him. Really liked him. And that scared her to death. The few times she'd allowed a man to get close, she'd panicked at the crucial moment. More than panicked-fought like a cornered animal was a more accurate description.

She still remembered making out with a young Italian guy a couple of years ago. He'd been good-looking enough to be a movie star. She'd even managed to get naked without the panic overwhelming her.