The chief’s nostrils flared and his eyes lit up. “You witnessed the murder?”
“No.”
“Then why would the killer follow you down here?” He straightened his cuffs and blew out a breath. “We’ve had enough murders in Coral Cove to last us the next fifty years.”
“Maybe this guy doesn’t realize you reached your quota.”
“My men have been canvassing the area to see if anyone noticed anything. The window was on the side of the building, so he could’ve gotten away down that alley.” He stuck out his hand. “We’ll be in touch, Devon.”
Both she and Kieran shook hands with him and turned away.
“By the way.”
Without turning her body, she cranked her head around. “Yeah?”
“I heard your brother, Dylan, is applying for my position when I leave.”
“Yes.”
“I suppose the folks in town will like having a hometown boy back in the saddle.”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
As they hurried back to Michael, Kieran leaned in, almost touching her ear with his lips. “Does he have an inferiority complex or something?”
“Sounds like it. I don’t know him well. He took over as chief after my mom moved, so I’ve just seen him around when I’ve been down on visits.”
“I don’t like his style, but I have to admit he made a few good points.” He held up his hands when she turned on him. “Let’s see what he comes up with regarding ownership of the building and that attorney. Hell, it could be some angry client of Elena’s.”
She wiped her clammy hands on the back of her shorts. It could be. She hadn’t witnessed Mrs. Del Vecchio’s murder. If she had, she would’ve already told the police. The killer had to realize that. What could he want with her now?
Unless he figured she was too spooked to ID him. And he wanted her death as insurance she never would.
THE EMTS HAD RELEASED Michael with the caveat to watch his breathing and to bring him to the hospital at the first hint of a cough.
Not even a fast-food lunch of burgers and fries could wipe the guarded expression from Michael’s eyes. They’d explained the fire as an accident, but she didn’t know how much of that story Michael had swallowed. Devon hadn’t gotten a chance to ask him about his session with Dr. Elena. One step forward, two steps back.
On the car ride back to her mom’s house, Michael’s gaze had rarely left Kieran’s face. He’d probably memorized every feature and every line. Maybe he was picking up tips on keeping a poker face because now Devon couldn’t read Kieran
“I think a nap is in order, don’t you, Michael?” She leaned into the backseat and brushed his forehead with the back of her hand. “Are you sure you’re okay? How are your eyes and throat?”
“Okay.”
“Good. I’m okay, too. Pretty scary stuff but we’re both fine now.”
When they got out of the car, Kieran took a position by the front door, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorjamb. But his casual stance didn’t fool her. His hard muscles remained tense, his one visible dark eye bright and alert as if he planned to take flight at any moment.
Michael marched up to Kieran and patted him on the kneecap. Kieran stuck out his fist for a knuckle bump and Michael’s small hand met his. “No problem, buddy.”
Devon’s brows shot up. These two had trouble communicating with her but seemed to read each other’s minds. She held out her hand, wiggling her fingers. “You need that nap.”
Michael grabbed her hand, and they ambled down the hallway to her brother Dylan’s old room. After she tucked Michael in and left the bedroom door ajar, she returned to the living room where Kieran had taken a seat in the breakfast nook, his dark dangerousness incongruous amid her mother’s cheery yellow pitcher and flowered tablecloth.
“So what was that all about?” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the front door. “Some secret code?”
“He was thanking me for getting you two out of that bathroom.” Kieran stretched his long, denim-clad legs in front of him. “He’d been thinking about it on the ride home, sizing me up.”
“I’m glad you were there, Kieran. I expected Michael to go off the deep end after the explosion and fire. He was obviously upset, but not as much as I expected.” She pulled out the chair across from him and dropped into it. “I think it’s because you saved us.”
A muscle twitched in his lean jaw. “Bad timing.”
“The explosion? When is a Molotov cocktail flying through a bathroom window
“I meant all of this. Me. You. Michael.”
Her blood ran hot in her veins, and she had to hook her feet around the legs of the chair so she wouldn’t shoot out of it. “Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t present you with the perfect son at the perfect time.”
His tanned skin flushed a dark red, and his single eye glittered. The fingers he’d been drumming on the tabletop stilled. “Michael is perfect.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “This reunion… It’s nothing how I dreamed it would be.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t present you with the perfect fiance.”
A hot tear splashed on her cheek. “You are perfect, Kieran. You’re alive and that’s all I ever prayed for.”
“I’m not the same man who left Coral Cove over four years ago.”
She grabbed a napkin from her mom’s colorful ceramic napkin holder and blew her nose. “I’m not the same woman. Maybe you don’t realize that because you don’t remember enough about me. But believe me, I’ve changed. People change.”
Kieran slid a finger beneath the elastic band securing the patch around his head. He peeled up the patch. “I’m damaged.”
Unflinching, Devon studied his eye. She reached out and dabbed the red, puckered skin with the pad of her fingertip. Kieran’s breath blew hot against her palm. The spiky, black lashes that formed a crescent high on his cheekbone stirred.
“Can you open it?”
His lid twitched, and he opened his eye, showing a sliver of black iris. “Not much.”
“It’s too soon to tell whether or not you’ll see out of that eye again. But if you don’t,” she shrugged, “I can’t imagine that stopping you from doing whatever it is you want to do, Kieran. Nothing ever stopped you before-not your dyslexia when you were a kid and not a two-hundred-fifty-pound linebacker. A little eye injury is not going to bring you down now.”
He laughed, not the booming, infectious sound from his former life but a short, sharp staccato, as if he was unaccustomed to the practice. He slipped the patch back over his eye. “Has anything ever stopped you before? I showed you my eye to scare you off, and you take a clinical look at it and dish out the Pollyanna advice.”
She slumped back in her chair. At least he’d admitted that he was trying to scare her off, but why? She’d been through nursing school and had been an RN for several years. Did he really think an inflamed eye was enough to send her running for the hills?
Did he think she’d reject him because he was blind in one eye? But she hadn’t, so why push her away?
She had changed. She’d learned to tackle issues head-on, and she had no intention of shying away from this one. She straightened her spine and planted her feet flat on the floor.
“What is it, Kieran? I’m not bothered by your eye or the fact that you may permanently lose your sight. In fact, the patch… Well, it’s kind of sexy.”
He lifted one brow and murmured. “Pollyanna.”
