Eyewitness

Chapter Eight

Kieran pinned Devon to the floor with the full length of his body. With his chest sealed against hers, he couldn’t tell where his galloping heart left off and hers began. His breath came out in harsh gasps, stirring the strands of hair that fell across her face. “Stay down.”

He grappled for the cell phone in his pocket, while he tried to scoot Devon behind the sheet-covered desk. He only succeeded in grinding his pelvis against hers. Two minutes ago that action would’ve driven him crazy with need. Now it caused a rush of adrenaline to flood his system, and he half picked her up from his position on top of her to hoist the two of them behind the desk with a thump against the hard floor.

After choking and making several strangled sounds, Devon forced a few words out. “What was that?”

“A gunshot.”

Her body jerked beneath his, allowing him to slip the phone from his pocket. He called 911. Should have it on speed dial by now.

“We’re at Columbella House and someone shot at us through the window.”

Devon’s body twitched again as if he’d just reminded her why they were in their current position.

Kieran finished his conversation with the 911 operator and smoothed his hand over Devon’s golden hair, like a beacon of light in the darkness. “It’s okay. The guy’s not going to stick around for a second shot.”

“You can’t tell me that’s the U.S. government trying to get you to come in.”

The strands of her hair got caught on his calloused palms and all he wanted to do was kiss the worry from her pursed lips.

“If you are the target, Devon, why?”

“I have no idea. The only thing I can think of is Mrs. Del Vecchio’s murder, but I didn’t see anything. Why would they believe I saw something? The killer shut that laundry room door on me, and my back was to the door.”

“Was Mrs. Del Vecchio still alive when you found her? Did she tell you anything before she died?”

“She was dead. Why would her killer believe otherwise?”

“Did the newspaper reports of the murder identify you?”

Her eyes wide, she nodded.

“He knows you found the body. Maybe he’s afraid he left a clue. Maybe he’s afraid Granny Del whispered his name to you with her dying breath.”

“Any clue would be for the police to find. I wouldn’t know a clue if it smacked me on the forehead. And I’m sure he knew he’d finished off Mrs. Del Vecchio.”

The sounds of sirens reached them as they huddled beneath the desk. Kieran had pulled the sheet around them for added security. Not that he believed for one minute the shooter would come after them in the house.

Two attempts on Devon’s life in one day.

Maybe fate had drawn him to this house for a purpose.

An hour later, after the cops had canvassed the area, retrieved the bullet embedded in a bookshelf, and questioned them, Kieran took Devon’s hand while they stood on the sidewalk in front of his parents’ house.

“This is why I’m not leaving you on your own tonight.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the cop car parked at the curb. “Do you think he followed us here or was waiting for us?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on the rearview mirror in the car. I’d know if someone were tailing us.”

“Do you remember what the man looked like yesterday at the beach? Maybe it was him. He broke into my car. Maybe he was trying to get my address here. Then he tried to follow me to my place that night.”

“Whoa.” Kieran held up his hands. “What do you mean he tried to follow you last night? You told me you stopped for ice cream.”

“We stopped for ice cream so I could lose a light- colored sedan that looked suspiciously like the one parked at the beach yesterday.”

White-hot anger surged through his body, and his eye throbbed. If he ever caught the person threatening Devon, he’d kill him.

“Are you mad that I didn’t tell you?” She touched his arm.

He squeezed his eye shut. “No. I’m mad that I wasn’t there. I’m mad that I wasn’t there for Michael. I’m mad that I wasn’t there for you when he was born.”

“You couldn’t help it.” She tilted her chin at the cop waiting on the street. “He’s waiting to follow me home. Are you sure you need that heavy jacket? It’s still mild out.”

It wouldn’t be mild later tonight in her car. “Yeah. Get behind the wheel. I’ll be right out.”

He ran inside the house, snagged his jacket from a hanger in the closet and returned to Devon’s car. As she peeled away from the curb, the patrol car lined up behind her.

They reached her mother’s house, and the cop approached them when they got out of the car. “Just got off the radio with the station, Ms. Reese. Chief Evans would like you both to come in tomorrow.”

“We’ll be there, officer.” Kieran stuck out his hand. “Thanks for your help. I can take it from here.”

Devon walked ahead of him up to the lighted porch and patted her bag. “At least no calls from the hospital. Michael must be doing okay.”

“We’ll be there first thing in the morning to get him, or maybe we should wait until our talk with the chief. I don’t think Michael needs to see any more policemen.”

“I agree.” She yawned. “Well, come on in. I-I can get you settled…in the spare room.”

She dropped her gaze to the porch, and Kieran took a step back. “I’m staying out here tonight, Devon.”

Grabbing the porch railing as if to steady herself, she said, “What?”

“If someone’s lurking around, following you, I want to be where I can watch the house.”

“That’s crazy, Kieran. You need a bed and a good night’s sleep.”

“That’s not going to happen if I’m worried about what’s going on outside.” He held out his hand. “Give me the keys to your car. I can get comfortable.”

“So that’s why you wanted your jacket. You couldn’t ask for a blanket?”

“Good idea. Can I have a blanket, too?”

She dropped the keys in his hand and pushed through the front door. He wedged his foot in the doorjamb, propping open the screen door. She returned and shoved a blanket into his arms.

“This is no way for you to heal.”

“Keeping you safe comes first. I can heal later.”

He pivoted on the bottom step and made a beeline for her car in the driveway.

“Hey.”

He turned halfway. She was not talking him out of this. “Yeah?”

“You have the keys if you change your mind.”

“Get some sleep.”

“I’d recommend the same for you, but I don’t think it’s happening.”

He waved. “I’ll manage.”

He watched the lights go off in the house, then shoved the seat back and pulled the blanket around his shoulders.

He’d manage a lot better out here on his own instead of in that house with that woman in the next room. The next bed.

Compared to that, watching the house from a cramped car for a killer was gonna be a breeze.

YELLOW STREAKED ACROSS the sky like a runny egg yolk, and Kieran’s stomach growled as he drank in the sight of the breaking dawn. His vigil over, he stretched his legs as far as the car would allow and cranked his head from side to side. He needed food. He didn’t need sleep.

He’d grown accustomed to wakeful nights, watchful nights looking for a means to escape. Looking for an opportunity to take revenge.

He avoided sleep. Sleep meant weakness, a loss of control.

The porch light died and a glow appeared at the front window. Devon rose early…unless she’d gotten a phone call from the hospital.

His gut twisted in unaccustomed anxiety-the curse of being a parent.

He couldn’t believe he was a father. He needed help, therapy, before he could ever take on the role. He’d have to suck it up and give it a go with Elena Estrada. Michael deserved that. He deserved a whole father, not a fractured mess of a man.

The front door swung open, and Devon charged down the steps, her pink terry cloth robe flying out behind her along with her tousled blond hair-like some kind of good witch from the West Coast.

He barely had time to unlock the car before she’d grabbed the handle and yanked open the door.

“Are you done out here?” She crossed her arms, yanking the robe closed at the same time. “I would’ve been just as safe with you indoors, in a bed, with your gun by your side.”

“But you were safer with me out here, watching the house and occasionally checking the perimeter.”

Her mouth dropped open and her blue eyes widened in that adorable way she had of feigning outrage.

“Do you mean to tell me you didn’t even sleep? You’ve been awake all night?”

He shrugged off the blanket and lifted his father’s.45 from the console. “Now what would’ve been the point if I were sleeping?”

Sputtering, she yanked the blanket from his lap. “Get inside right now and have some breakfast and about a gallon of coffee…unless you want to take a nap.”

“I don’t need a nap.” He swung one leg out of the car and planted his foot on her driveway next to pink polished toes. “But I will have that breakfast and gallon of coffee.”

Devon whipped up a mean breakfast of bacon and eggs. While she poured him a second cup of coffee, he asked, “Did you call the hospital yet this morning to check up on Michael?”

Her hand jerked and coffee splashed onto the saucer. “I did call. Everything’s fine, his lungs look good and we can pick him up at ten o’clock after we talk to Chief Evans. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before. I’m not used to sharing Michael info with anyone.”

Kieran stared into the dark brown liquid swirling in his cup. Was she telling him to back off? Did the thought of a co-parent for Michael make her skittish?

“I don’t plan to be any kind of replacement for you in Michael’s life, Devon. Is that why you decided not to tell my parents and Colin about him?”

She turned away and her hair swept across her face, hiding it from his scrutiny. “I told you. I thought the news of Michael would cause them even more grief. I wasn’t sure your mom could handle any more.”

“I get it. I’m glad Michael’s okay.” He blew on the coffee and then slurped the warm, rich brew onto his tongue. “I’ll wait while you get ready to go, and then you can take me back to my parents’ place so I can get a quick shower and change of clothes.”

“Do you plan to sleep in the car in front of the house until the police catch the maniac who’s stalking me?”

“I plan to install motion-sensor spotlights around the house. It might upset some of your mom’s neighbors, but something like that will spook a prowler.”

“I’m still not sure he knows where I’m staying.”

“Maybe not, but he’ll find out.”

She dropped the dishes in the sink and turned, gripping the counter behind her. “Then we’d better find him first.”

While the shower ran, Kieran washed the breakfast dishes in the sink. The lights and maybe even a camera would help keep Devon and Michael safe, but they couldn’t replace hands-on protection, especially the kind he could offer. He’d have to sleep in the house with them, or at least stay here at night. He couldn’t sleep with them nearby. He couldn’t subject them to his version of a night in dreamland.

Of course, if he made love to Devon all night long, neither one of them would have to sleep. The sound of the shower taunted him. He could picture the warm spray hitting Devon’s naked body. The rivulets of water coursing over her smooth curves.

Drops of water splashed onto the floor, and he cursed. He’d let the soapy water fill the sink and it had crested over the lip.

So much for not needing sleep.

DEVON SETTLED ON the Roarkes’ comfy couch by the window so she could keep one eye on Columbella House across the street. She’d always loved that house, but now? Even its interesting history couldn’t wipe that gunshot from her mind.

She gasped. The diary. What had Kieran done with the diary when the shooting started?

He poked his head around the corner of the hallway, clutching a new set of clothes to his chest. “I’m going to hit the shower.”

She opened her mouth to ask about the diary, but he’d already disappeared.

Of course, whatever they found had to be turned over to Mia, but they could sneak a peek first. Mia wouldn’t mind. She’d divorced herself from Columbella House and all things St. Regis when she’d taken off in a huff after her twin, Marissa, had run off with Mia’s fiancé.

At least she’d never had to worry about her twin, Dylan, stealing her man.

The shower blasted to life in the other room, and Devon closed her eyes. She thought she’d had Kieran last night. He’d be sleeping in the same house in the room next to hers with Michael safely at the hospital. What better scene for seduction?

Then he’d headed for the car.

She appreciated his commitment to keeping her safe, but really? He couldn’t have done that inside? In her bed?

She shook her head. He’d become a complex man. Sometimes he looked at her as if he wanted to devour her, and other times he couldn’t push her away fast enough.

He wore his secretiveness as a shield. He didn’t have to protect her from what he’d gone through in Afghanistan. She wanted to know. To know his recent trials would be to know him…this new Kieran. She felt just as lost as he did, and she didn’t even have memory loss.

The shower stopped and she closed her eyes to picture Kieran’s body-lean, muscled and hard. What other scars did he bear from his captivity? He had plenty that weren’t visible-and those would be the hardest to heal.

Several minutes later, a fully-clothed Kieran rounded the corner, sluicing a hand through his wet hair. “I think I need a haircut. I’m pretty sure I didn’t have it this long as a Green Beret.”

“It suits you.” At least it suited the new Kieran, the mysterious, closed-off one.

“Are you ready?” He swept some change from the counter and shoved it into the pocket of a pair of cami cargo shorts. “Sorry you have to drive all the time. I guess I need to look into what it takes to get a driver’s license when you have one functioning eye.”

“I guess you need to look into a lot of things.”

She ignored his dark, piercing gaze and grabbed her purse. “The police station first and then Michael. What do you suppose Chief Evans wants to question us about?”

“Probably wants to find out why you have a target on your back and why you’ve led a killer to his cozy little town.”

“That makes three of us.”

Fifteen minutes later Devon pulled into a parking space at the police station. As Kieran opened the door to the station for her, she blinked back tears.

This building had been like a second home to her and Dylan when her dad was chief. It had a different vibe without him. Maybe if Dylan got the job of Coral Cove Police Chief, the atmosphere would change.

She waved at the officer manning the front desk. “Hey, Clark, we’re here to see Chief Evans.”

“I know that. Are you okay? Most people come to Coral Cove to get away from it all. You seemed to have brought it with you.”

She snorted. “Is that what the chief’s worried about? He’s winding down his illustrious, if short, career with a serial killer and now a crazy bomb-throwing stalker. He didn’t catch the former. Is he concerned he won’t catch the latter?”

Clark reddened up to the roots of his hair. “I’m keeping my mouth shut. What happened to you, Devon? You used to be so sweet.”

She slid a glance toward Kieran, pretending to study flyers on the bulletin board, and she put her finger to her lips.

“Devon, Roarke, glad you could make it.” Chief Evans strode from the lunchroom in the back of the station.

Devon bit her lip, hoping he hadn’t heard her. She wanted to carry her tough-girl image only so far. “I’ll tell you as much as I know, Chief, but I’m afraid I’m in the dark.”

“Anything might help, Devon.” Tyler Davis, the mayor of Coral Cove, moseyed from the lunchroom in Chief

Evans’s wake.

“Oh, hi, Tyler. Are you in on this, too?”

“Anything that threatens the serenity of Coral Cove is my business.” Tyler turned to Kieran. “I heard you were back in town, Roarke. Coral Cove should hold a parade in your honor.”

Kieran held up his hands. “I’m good.”

Tyler brushed his hands together. “Well, then, shall we get started?”

“We?”

The chief grunted. “I invited the mayor to this meeting, too. We have a lot of tourists in town at the moment. Exploding bathrooms are in nobody’s best interests.”

“Especially when you’re in one. Lead the way.” Devon spread her arms. She had a feeling the chief and the mayor were none too happy to see her return. One menace to the serenity of Coral Cove had just been vanquished. Would it take another Roarke to vanquish this one?

As Chief Evans and Tyler returned to the back of the station, Devon hooked her arm in Kieran’s and stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “Do you remember Tyler Davis?”

“No. Should I?”

“I’ll tell you later.” She rolled her eyes.

The chief led them to an interrogation room where he crossed his arms and wedged a shoulder against the wall. Mayor Davis took a seat at the table, and Devon and Kieran sat across from him.

The chief cleared his throat. “Why don’t you tell us about this murder you witnessed in the city?”

“I already told you. I didn’t witness the murder.”

“You found the body.”

“Yes, but I didn’t see anything or anyone.”

“Maybe the killer thinks you did.”

Kieran placed his hands flat on the table and hunched his shoulders. “That’s what I’m beginning to think, especially after last night.”

“If I’d seen something, I would’ve told the police. Why can’t the killer figure that out? He’d know if the detectives were already following up on any leads. I didn’t give them any leads.”

Tyler tapped the table with the eraser side of a pencil bearing teeth marks. “Maybe the killer thinks you’re too scared to talk.”

“Oh, and throwing homemade bombs at me and shooting at me are going to make me feel better?”

They spent several more minutes debating the plausibility of Mrs. Del Vecchio’s killer coming after Devon until the chief pushed off the wall and took a seat at the table.

“I took the liberty of contacting the detective on the case, Detective Marquette. He’s heading down here to talk with you again, Devon.”

“Thanks…I think. I already told him everything about that day.”

“And what about you, Roarke?” The chief studied his own entwined fingers. “You were with Devon both times. Can this have anything to do with your mission in Afghanistan and subsequent imprisonment?”

“I don’t know.” A muscle twitched in Kieran’s jaw.

Tyler blinked rapidly. “Do you really think your captors would come after you here?”

Kieran pinned Tyler with one dark eye. “If that particular terrorist group thought I had some information, it’s not completely out of the realm. But my captors? Impossible.”

“Why is that?” The chief scribbled something on a pad of paper he’d flipped out of his pocket.

“They’re all dead.”

Devon’s heart jumped. Is that how Kieran had escaped? She held her breath. She didn’t want Mayor Davis or Chief Evans to ask him to clarify. Kieran didn’t want to talk about his escape.

Tyler sucked in a noisy breath, and the chief studied Kieran for a moment and then shrugged.

“I still think the most likely scenario is that the old lady’s killer thinks you know something, Devon. And he wants to shut you up before you can reveal it to the SFPD.”

Devon clamped her hands on her bouncing knees. “When did Detective Marquette say he was coming down?”

“I think he’s heading down already, but he’ll call you.” The chief pushed back from the table and brushed his hands together. “Maybe once he talks to you, you should leave town.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Tyler slapped the table and then flushed under Kieran’s glittering stare. “I-I mean to keep safe.”

“I can’t go back to my apartment in San Francisco. That would be even more dangerous. I’m here because I can stay in my mom’s house for free. I can’t afford to run all over the country to keep one step ahead of a killer.”

“I’ll keep Devon safe.” Kieran scraped his chair back on the wood floor. “You just do your police work.”

They were both silent on the drive to the hospital. Devon glanced at him sideways through her lashes a few times. She wanted to ask him about his escape, but she didn’t think he’d tell her.

“We don’t need to tell Michael about the shooting at the house.”

He turned his head. “Of course not. So what’s that mayor’s story?”

“The Davis family is one of the most prominent in Coral Cove. Tyler’s grandfather bought up a lot of property, so Tyler has money and thinks he has influence with his little mayor’s job. He’s all about tourism and money for the town.”

“We went to school with him?”

“Oh, yeah. He was class president there, too.” She parked the car and sighed. “Okay, happy, smiley faces for Michael.”

“I think I can manage that.”

When they entered Michael’s room, he looked up from his coloring, the tip of his pink tongue lodged in the corner of his mouth. His dark eyes widened for a second, and then he smiled.

The smile made Devon’s nose tingle with tears, even if this smile seemed to be directed over her shoulder at Kieran hovering behind her. On some level did Michael sense his father had just walked into the room?

A matching smile curved her lips and she skipped to his bed. “How are you feeling? I missed you.”

“Fine. I got to watch TV this morning.”

“That’s always a big plus when you stay in the hospital. No more coughing?”

“Nope.”

“Ready to go home?” Kieran folded down the metal railing and perched on the edge of the bed.

Michael peered at him through lowered lashes and nodded.

With a pounding heart, Devon took a deep breath. “Michael, you like Kieran, don’t you?”

Kieran shot her a quick look and then dipped his chin-not that she needed his approval. She’d made a decision and just maybe the news would shake Michael out of his funk. Of course, if the announcement caused him further turmoil, she’d never forgive herself.

“Yeah.” Michael’s small frame jerked to attention.

“Good…because Kieran is your father.”