Devon curled her bare toes against the Persian throw rug on the floor and dug her fingernails into the arms of the chair. Was this some kind of sick joke?
“A-are you kidding me?”
Detective Marquette held up his spatulate hands. “No lie.”
Kieran swore. “Is that why she was murdered?”
“We think so. Before the autopsy results came back, we wondered at the cause of death. At first we thought she’d been strangled because of the marks on her neck, but she actually drowned. And we think it was accidental.”
“You think her murder was accidental?” Devon rubbed her arms, trying to erase the goose bumps.
“It looks that way. Why drown her when you already have your hands wrapped around her throat? We think the dunking in the sink full of water was a means for extracting information.”
Devon clasped her hands at her own throat. “They were asking her questions and then dunking her head in the water when she wouldn’t answer?”
“We think so.”
“How awful. And the questions?”
“They probably wanted to know what Johnny Del did with the money from the last bank heist.”
“‘They’? Do you think more than one person killed her?” Kieran shoved forward to perch on the edge of the chair, his knees meeting Devon’s.
“We don’t know. It doesn’t seem likely since you heard just one person that day, Ms. Reese.”
She pressed her bouncing knees against Kieran’s steady leg. “I didn’t hear anyone, just a door slam.”
Detective Marquette wrapped his hands around his glass and downed the rest of his drink. “How’s that little boy of yours?”
“He’s still shaken up, but-” she shot a glance at Kieran “-he’s getting better every day.”
“That’s good to hear. He must’ve been close to Mrs. Del Vecchio for her death to affect him like that.”
“Yeah, he called her…” Devon smacked her hand on the coffee table “…Johnny Del.”
The detective’s brows shot up. “He called the old lady ‘Johnny Del’?”
“No, but she had him call her Granny Del. Close enough, isn’t it?” She dragged her hands through her hair and tugged at the roots. “How could I have allowed that friendship?”
Kieran reached over and squeezed her knee. “How were you supposed to know that sweet, little Granny Del was some bank robber’s moll?”
“That’s just it, Kieran. Granny Del was a bit unusual. She encouraged him to sneak down to see her. She’d tell Michael cops and robbers stories and pirate stories, and somehow the robbers and pirates always turned out to be the good guys.”
Detective Marquette barked out a laugh, and then held up his hands. “I’m sorry. It’s just funny to think that the old gal never changed her spots. From what I read about her, she never once ratted out Johnny Del.”
“Apparently, she stayed true to him until the end, dying rather than giving up his secret stash…or her secret stash.”
The detective rose and stretched his big frame. “I’m going to hit the road. I plan to stay in touch with the CCPD about your situation out here, and I’m going to put together a six-pack of Johnny Del’s old partners.”
“Looking at a six-pack of mug shots of Johnny Del’s old cronies isn’t going to help, Detective. I didn’t see anyone from the laundry room that day.” She made a crisscross over her heart. “I promise.”
“I know that. I’m hoping you can make a connection between the pictures and someone lurking around Coral Cove.”
“And my brother? Are you going to check that out, too?” She slipped Detective Marquette’s jacket off the hanger in the closet and handed it to him.
“I will, although I don’t think he’s going to be too happy I let you in on his secret.” He draped the jacket over his arm. “I figure I’m leaving you in good hands.”
“Ha! Chief Evans?”
He leveled a finger at Kieran. “No. That fully capable Green Beret.”
Devon sent Detective Marquette on his way with a can of cold soda for his three-hour drive back to the city.
Crossing her arms, she leaned against the porch post, watching his taillights disappear around the corner. She blinked her eyes. “I can’t believe Dylan didn’t tell me about his operation.”
Kieran’s hand brushed up her back and settled on her neck. “As a cop’s daughter, you know it would’ve been impossible for him to tell you.”
She shivered and the sun hadn’t even dipped into the ocean yet. “His distance over the past few years hurt me…and Michael. When Michael was a toddler, Dylan was the closest thing he had to a father.”
“But he wasn’t a father. That’s my job now.”
“I know you’re trying hard, and I appreciate it.”
“Too hard?”
She gazed into Kieran’s single dark eye edged with uncertainty. She’d never seen this man anything but confident-on the football field, in the classroom, in the bedroom. Even returning home with a damaged eye and an even more damaged memory, he’d seemed in control. One little four-year-old boy had sapped that assurance.
“You could never try too hard with Michael. Just continue doing what you’re doing-include him, talk to him, share with him, but…”
“But what?” The light pressure on her neck turned to a caress.
She clenched her muscles, her body stiffening. She didn’t want to put Kieran on the spot, but he asked and she owed him the truth. She gathered a deep breath in her lungs. “I don’t want Michael to be disappointed. If he finds a father only to lose him…”
With slight pressure on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “I’m not going to abandon Michael.”
Her cell phone buzzed and she checked the display, grateful for the distraction. “It’s Elena.”
She hit the speaker button and answered. “Hi, Elena. Kieran’s here and Michael isn’t. You’re on speaker.”
“Hello, Devon, Kieran. Michael wasn’t with you during the shooting incident, was he?”
“Thank God, no. We had to bring him to the hospital last night for a cough he developed. We dropped by
Kieran’s parents’ place and saw lights at Columbella, and that’s when the shooting ensued.”
“That poor boy. Is he okay now?”
“He’s fine.” Devon wrapped an arm around the wooden post of the porch, even though she would’ve preferred holding on to Kieran. “Elena, we told him. Kieran and I told Michael that Kieran is his father.”
Elena paused. “How did he take it?”
“He said he already knew.”
Elena laughed. “The wisdom of children.”
“Did he say anything in the session about Kieran?”
“He just nodded when I asked if he liked him.” Elena cleared her throat. “He probably got enough signals from you that Kieran was a special man.”
Devon’s cheeks heated and she dipped her head to hide them from Kieran’s intent gaze. “I suppose so. Is there anything we need to know about the session? Anything you can tell us?”
“Not at this point. Michael’s a disturbed little boy, Devon, but I don’t have to tell you that.”
Devon sagged against the wooden pillar, and Kieran wrapped an arm around her. The heavy drape of his forearm caused her to straighten her shoulders. She had to be strong for Michael.
Kieran whispered in her ear. “Tell her about Granny Del.”
“There’s something else you should know before your next session with Michael. The SFPD detective working the case came down this afternoon with some interesting information about Mrs. Del Vecchio.”
She told Elena about Johnny Del and the missing money.
“Wow, what a colorful past. You don’t know what kinds of things she was telling Michael… And no, none of it is your fault. That’s an interesting twist, and I’ll see if I can get Michael to open up about some of the things he talked about with Granny Del.”
