Eyewitness

Chapter Ten

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.”

What about me? The question hovered on her lips, but she was afraid to hear the answer. Right now, his promise to Michael had to be enough.

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.”

“Okay, so ten o’clock tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, and Kieran?”

“Yeah?” Devon could almost feel Kieran’s hard muscles coil and prepare for battle.

“I’ve reserved the time immediately following Michael’s appointment for you. Interested?”

“Sure.”

“Good. You two have a safe evening. I actually have a date tonight.”

“Have a good time, and thanks, Elena.” Devon ended the call and slid the phone into the front pocket of her shorts.

Kieran took one step down and crossed his arms. “Why did I think Dr. Estrada was married, or is the date with her husband?”

“Elena’s husband passed away three years ago-heart attack out of the blue.”

“A lot of stuff can happen-out of the blue.”

The screen door banged behind them and Devon jumped.

“Mommy?”

Michael stood on the porch rubbing his eyes.

She tousled his hair. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Uh-huh.”

At least no nightmares had interrupted his sleep. “How about a bath and then some dinner?”

Michael gazed up at the eaves, his eyes wide, and Devon’s heart rate accelerated. Was there something up there that scared him? Would danger continue to lurk in every nook and cranny of Michael’s existence?

Kieran crouched beside Michael. “It’s too light right now. The sensor lights will start working when it’s dark.”

Michael grinned and Devon’s pounding heart did a double backflip. Lord, had she ever missed that grin. Truth was she loved it because it was a carbon copy of Kieran’s. Maybe she’d get a double reward and see the grin echoed on Kieran’s face.

Nope-just that little twist of the lips. Maybe his son could teach Kieran how to smile again.

“Has Michael ever been to Neptune’s Catch?”

“You remember that restaurant?”

Kieran shrugged. “Of course I do. Friends of the family own that place, and they have the best calamari around.”

“Camilari?”

“Exactly.” Kieran poked Michael in the back. “Little deep-fried squid. Have you ever eaten a squid before, Michael?”

His dark eyes took up half his face as he shook his head.

Kieran tsked and shook a finger at Devon. “You haven’t taken Michael to Fisherman’s Wharf to eat squid?”

“I’m not a complete failure. He’s had crab and clam chowder in a bread bowl.”

Michael’s gaze darted between her and Kieran, a half smile on his face, not sure whether to be anxious about their bantering or happy.

Devon tugged on his ear. “Kieran and I are just joking around. Do you want to try some calamari?”

“Yeah, camilari.”

“You got it. Camilari all around.”

It was almost seven o’clock before they left the Roarkes’ house and hit the coast highway. Having a 24-7 bodyguard and a single car slowed down daily operations. Bath and shower at her place, followed by shower at his place.

But she wasn’t complaining, even though they could save time and water by showering together.

As she drove toward the more touristy area of Coral Cove, the lights on the shore, dotted with restaurants and bed and breakfasts, twinkled. They’d missed the sunset, so maybe they’d be able to nab a window seat if the crowds had dispersed after the sun went down.

She didn’t have to worry. The owners of the restaurant treated Kieran like a conquering hero, and placed them at the best window seat with an unobstructed view of the Pacific.

When the calamari arrived, Michael poked at it suspiciously, especially the ones with the little tentacles. But when Kieran dipped one of the critters into a spicy, red sauce and popped it into his mouth, Michael followed suit.

“Do you like it?” Kieran’s hand hovered over the plate, ready to nab another one.

With his mouth full, Michael nodded his head.

Devon sighed as she sipped her one and only glass of wine for the evening. This felt right. Then she gulped some ice water. Better not get used to it.

Kieran had promised to be a part of Michael’s life and she believed him, but he hadn’t included her in his little vision of the future…yet. Could she change his mind? Seduce him?

She’d never use Michael to hook him, but she wasn’t above employing a little va-va-voom. Did she even have any of that left? Guess she’d better find out. With the sensor lights manning the exterior of the house, Kieran would be free to man the interior.

And then she’d be free to man him.

Kieran tapped her wine glass. “Slow down. You’re driving.”

“Huh?” She blinked her eyes. “I do not get tipsy on one glass of wine, especially after eating a boatload of calamari and a bowl of cioppino.”

His eye narrowed. “You had a silly grin on your face.”

“Did I?” She kicked off her sandal and wiggled her toes against his ankle. “Just happy to be here.”

He’d just taken a sip of water and now he was choking and spewing it into his napkin.

She chewed her bottom lip. Maybe she had the va-va but was missing the voom.

“Devon, Kieran. What a surprise to see you here.”

Devon jerked her head to the side and met Elena’s shining, dark eyes. “Oh, h-hello.”

She stammered to a stop, not sure of the protocol. Elena was her friend, but she was also Michael’s therapist and typically Elena didn’t socialize with her clients or at least she didn’t acknowledge them in public.

A man about Elena’s age had her hand tucked into the crook of his arm.

Elena smiled. “Sam, this is Devon and Kieran, and their son, Michael. This is Sam.”

They shook hands, and Michael slouched in his chair. Elena tapped his shoulder. “Hello, Michael.”

“Hi.”

Elena beamed at him as if he’d just recited the Gettysburg Address, but a verbal greeting was better than his customary nods. Had to celebrate every little bit of progress.

They chatted about the food and the view before Elena and her date moved on to their table.

“So that’s Dr. Estrada’s date.” Kieran dumped the rest of his beer from the bottle into his glass.

“Seems like a nice enough guy.”

“Must be hard to move on after losing a spouse.”

“Or a fiancé.”

His gaze sharpened on her face, but he chose to ignore the comment. Instead, he asked Michael if he wanted dessert.

They all shared a hot fudge brownie sundae, with

Michael doing most of the damage, and then headed for home…for Devon’s mother’s house just to make things more complicated.

When they got out of the car, Michael insisted on checking out all the sensor lights. He ran across the front yard, crept around the side of the house and even slipped through the side gate to the backyard. Everywhere he ran, bright lights followed him.

“Okay, Michael, I think they all work.”

He scampered inside the house, and Devon got him ready for bed. When he was all tucked in, she leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Do you want Kieran to come and say good-night?”

Michael’s dark eyes lit up, and Devon poked her head out of his room. “Kieran, would you like to say good-night to Michael?”

He appeared in the hallway as if he’d been waiting. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Devon scooted over to make room for Kieran on Michael’s bed and swallowed hard. She’d never had to make room for anyone in Michael’s life before.

Kieran held up his fist for a bump and Michael touched his knuckles. “Good night, Michael. Thanks for helping me with the lights.”

Michael snuggled into his bed and turned his face to his pillow. In a muffled voice, he said, “I like camilari.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

Devon dimmed Michael’s light to a low glow and left his door ajar. That was the easy part. Now who was going to tuck her in?

“Another beer?”

“No, thanks. I don’t drink much these days.”

“I’m glad you’re going to keep the appointment with Elena tomorrow. I think she can help you remember even more.”

Kieran stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s not just the…”

She waited, but his words trailed into nothingness. Everything between them was trailing into nothingness. Except Michael. She had to be grateful for that and put an end to these selfish feelings. Would she rather have a father for Michael or a husband and lover for herself?

The stubborn little voice taking up residence in the back of her brain shouted, Both. Why can’t I have both?

“Do you want to watch TV?” She gestured toward the dark screen. “Or do you want to turn in? You must be exhausted. I made up the bed in Dylan’s old room.”

“I’m going to sleep out here.”

“On the couch?”

“Yeah.”

“I think those floodlights out there are enough to scare off the most determined stalker.”

“I’d rather sleep here.”

Of course you would, you stubborn man. Why be comfortable? Why relax? Why give into this sexual tension between us?

“Okay. I’ll bring you a blanket and pillow. I’m going to read for a while.” She pulled the blanket from Dylan’s bed and grabbed the pillow. Grinding her teeth, she folded the blanket on the couch and dropped the pillow on top.

Then she punched the pillow. “Good night. Sweet dreams.”

Kieran’s brown eye grew even darker, and the lines on the sides of his mouth deepened. “Good night, Devon.”

After Devon washed her face and brushed her teeth, she flopped across her bed. What was that last look all about? Had he been angry that she’d shown her frustration?

He’d have to accept the fact that she wasn’t some celestial being full of light and forgiveness. That image may have gotten him through his imprisonment, but it had no place in the real world. Not in her world.

The murmur of the TV floated down the hallway as Devon folded open her book. If Kieran were so concerned about watching her back, he’d better not try to go without sleep for a second night in a row. He’d be useless.

Her lids drifted over her eyes as she pictured Kieran standing in her living room, the black patch hiding one window to his soul, every line of his body hard and ready, every line on his face harsh and uncompromising.

Kieran Roarke would never be useless.

She sighed and slouched farther into her bed, training her eyes on the page of the book, shaking off thoughts of the dangerous man with the eye patch camped out on her couch.

She read for another hour, or at least she stared at the same few pages for over an hour as she strained her ears for any little sound from the other room. It wasn’t like she expected him to charge into her bedroom demanding his conjugal rights…or whatever rights he had as a former fiancé.

She didn’t expect it, but she wanted it.

Sighing again, she flipped the page of her book to show some progress. Her eyelids grew heavy. Her grip on the paperback slackened. Her head tilted toward her shoulder.

Her body jerked. She sat up, and her book tumbled to the floor. Her gaze shifted to the illuminated numbers on her alarm clock. Two o’clock.

She pressed a hand against her chest where her heart was pounding as if she’d just run a marathon. Something had awakened her. Her gaze tracked to the bedroom window, the curtains drawn tightly across a closed and locked window despite the warmth of the day.

Her fingers curled into the covers and she held her breath as if that could sharpen her hearing. Because that was it. She’d heard a noise that had jolted her out of a restless sleep.

There-a moan. No, a growl. A tortured, feral sound that ripped her heart out of her chest.

Throwing the covers back, she swung her legs out of bed. She blinked, adjusting her eyes to the darkness, and then shuffled across the room to the door.

She cracked it open. A muted, blue light glowed from the living room. Had the noise come from the TV? She pushed open the door and tiptoed down the hallway.

She poked her head around the corner. Kieran, shirtless, boxers hanging low on his hips, raised his head from the hands covering his face, his patchless eye a slit of gleaming light in the darkness of his visage.

Holding out one trembling hand, Devon whispered. “Kieran?”

His body tensed. He took a step forward.

“Kieran, are you okay? I heard some…moaning. Are you in pain?”

Air hissed out between his teeth. His long fingers curled into fists at his sides.

He must be in excruciating pain. “Do you need some ibuprofen? I’m sure I have something stronger.”

All at once, Kieran was beside her. His eyes darkened to bits of obsidian-right before he wrapped his hands around her throat.