He pulled past the house following a divergent stone path leading from the front parking area toward the back and spotted the barn as he rounded the house. He pulled up to a set of stairs on the side of the barn and parked.
Lyndsey awoke and stared at the barn before turning to him blearily.
“We’re here.”
He nodded.
“Home sweet home.”
He unfolded himself from the Miata and moved to catch her as she struggled to slide from the car. She clung to him like a lapel monkey.
“You are such a gentleman.” Her eyes watered. “You’re so nice to bring me home. Nobody is ever nice to me.”
Oh boy. Here comes the emotional part of our evening.
Declan talked fast to distract her from her tears. “No problem. Where do you live? Upstairs here?”
She nodded. “I’m such a mess.”
“No, no, you’re fine.”
He helped her up the stairs.
“Where are your keys?”
“It’s unlocked.”
He tried the door and found it open. Struggling to get them both through, he picked her up and swept her over the threshold.
She whooped as he lifted her and melted into giggles.
“You’re so strong.”
“You’re just small.”
She beamed as he set her down in a ratty padded chair.
“You want a drink?” she asked, springing back to her feet. She wobbled and he steadied her.
One more drink and she’ll be unconscious. That wouldn’t get her talking. He wanted to tell her what she was doing was dangerous. He had no evil intentions—sure, he wanted to trick her into incriminating herself so she went to prison for murder—but she was lucky he wasn’t a predator. He restrained himself from scolding her like a father-figure. That would kill his chances of extracting what she knew about Miller’s untimely death.
He waved off her drink offer. “Actually, I’m good. Want me to make you something to eat?”
“I was going to make you eggs.”
“That’s okay. I can make them for you instead.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “You are so handsome.”
She leaned on him, pushing him across the room as he wrestled to keep her upright. He looked behind him to be sure he wasn’t about to trip over anything and realized where they were heading.
Her apartment was one large room. Behind him, her bed sat waiting, strewn with the clothes that hadn’t made the cut for that evening’s outing. She was definitely steering him towards it.
He stood firm to stop her progress and she peeled herself away from him to take the lead. Her hand eased down his arm until she could take his. She pulled him towards the bed.
He kept his feet planted on the floor.
“Let’s talk a bit, huh?” He gave her a playful tug back toward the living room area.
“Talk?”
“Sure. I mean, I just met you and I don’t know anything about you.”
She scowled. “Are you gay?”
“What?”
“I knew you were too good-looking.”
Declan sniffed, trying to decide if pretending he was gay would immediately end the evening or if maybe she’d be willing to spend some time chatting like friends. He judged her expression. She really didn’t seem to like the idea of Gay Declan.
“No, I’m not gay.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Nothing, I—”
“You don’t like me?”
“Of course I do. I’m here aren’t I?” He flashed her what he hoped was his most charming smile.
She melted a little.
There’s a little something. Declan felt as if he needed a moment to collect his thoughts. Maybe he could sneak away and text Charlotte for a little advice on how to get Lyndsey talking.
He noticed Lyndsey was standing in front of a door.
Bathroom.
“Is that your bathroom? Mind if I—”
“No!” Lyndsey fell back against the door and slapped her palms to it like she was about to start climbing it, backwards Spiderman-style.
Whoa.
“It isn’t a bathroom?”
Lyndsey held his gaze, breathing heavily. “It’s broken.”
“Oh.”
She lunged from the wall and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back towards the living area.
“Fine. Let’s talk. What do you want to know?”
Declan glanced back at the mysterious bathroom.
Ah well. I guess I should take advantage of her willingness to talk while I have it.
She flopped into a threadbare stuffed chair. “Come on. Bring it.”
“Well… How long have you been working with horses?”
“Since I came here when I was ten.”
“Why did you come here?”
Lyndsey opened her mouth and then shut it again. She waved him away. “That’s too long a story.”
“Okay. But you came here with your dad?”
Lyndsey tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. “No. He was already here.”
“Oh. So it was like a divorce thing.”
She shrugged.
“Do you have any sisters or brothers?”
Lyndsey’s expression soured. “No.”
“I thought I read your dad had twins?”
“He’s not their dad. He’s my dad.”
“So they’re not rich too?” Declan tried to say it as playfully as possible, hoping she wouldn’t notice him probing. It didn’t seem to be the sort of probing she had on her mind, so hopefully he’d be in luck.
“No. I got it all. Most of it.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the chair. “Mina got some.”
“Whose Mina?”
“She’s like my mom.”
“Oh. She was married to your dad?”
“Sister.” Her voice was fading, the muscles in her face falling slack.
“She’s your sister?”
“His sister.”
“So, your aunt.”
Lyndsey opened one eye to look at him. “Yeah.”
Declan dropped his head into his hand. This wasn’t working out the way he’d hoped. He needed her to talk about the paternity test, maybe get her to show some hate for the man she’d supposedly killed, but she was so drunk…and every topic that could lead to a useful conversation she blew off.
“When you said long story—” He looked up
