Chapter 6
Six
F ace it, we have diddly shit,” Eddie said.
It was late…well, past time for them to go home, but neither one of them was ready for that. It annoyed her that there wasn’t a witness or a traffic cam…nothing to point to the killer. She had an ex—who they were hunting down—and a mystery man. That was it. And they had nothing else to go on until they could interview both of them. Going through her phone had given them little to nothing.
“We do. But we’ve dealt with this before.”
He nodded. She saw the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged. They were both exhausted.
“No one seemed to have a problem with her at work,” she mused. “But looks can be deceiving. We should probably triple-check those alibis for people who weren’t at the party.”
“Yeah. We can do that tomorrow, though. By then, we should have more on the tox screen and her phone data.”
The warrant to trace her phone’s ping had come through pretty fast. Having a woman murdered in a high-traffic area where a lot of tourists visit definitely got things rolling. Unfortunately, there was a significant backlog of cases, so they wouldn’t get that information until tomorrow.
She sighed. The long day and late night were wearing her down. “You’re right.”
“Hey,” he said, and she looked at him. “We’ll get the information.”
She nodded. Irene’s parents had shown up to identify her. It was always hard for Eileen to deal with that element of a case. Well, just about every cop hated that part of the job. There were a few whom it didn’t bother, and she avoided those weirdos.
“I say we call it a day. Come back tomorrow morning fresh. We’ll have the phone pings by then, and we can start hunting down her movements from Saturday night.”
She nodded again. “That sounds like a plan.”
Eileen dropped down in her chair. She had other things she could work on, like the Norma Wilson case for her mother. The similarities were a little too much to ignore.
“You need to go home.”
She looked up at Eddie. He looked about as tired as she felt. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his brown eyes. Eileen was pretty sure he looked better than she did.
“I was just going to?—”
“You need to go home,” Eddie said, then glanced behind her. Casually, she turned around and saw Bryan making his way through the myriad of desks in the bullpen.
“Okay, you’re right.”
Her stomach grumbled as she stood, and Eddie laughed.
“What will you do since your chef is closed for the night?”
Peanut butter. That was her go-to when she didn’t feel like cooking, which was a lot of the time.
“Don’t worry. I got it.”
“Hey,” Bryan said. He smiled, showing off his newly capped teeth. God, she had been stupid when she was twenty-two. Really, really stupid.
“Hey.”
She did not encourage talk, but since he was the nephew of the deputy police commissioner, she’d always played nice after their breakup. Or as nice as she could with a sociopath.
“Closing up early?”
It was after seven on a Sunday. Both she and Eddie had worked until almost dawn, then put in a full eight hours. This butthead was annoying, and she wanted to punch him.
Eileen, don’t hit the deputy’s nephew, no matter how much he deserves it .
“Yeah, you could say that.” Eddie was the one who answered him. Eddie was one of those guys who was nice to everyone. Not just to Bryan.
She shut down her computer, then grabbed her purse and gun. “We’re beat after last night and this morning. Techs are working on stuff for us, but we won’t see anything until tomorrow. Have a good night.”
She joined Eddie, feeling the heat of Bryan’s stare as they left him there.
“Listen, I get that you were young when you first dated him.”
“Yeah, stupid. Thought he would be like the rest of my police family.”
“You are going to have to tell him to bugger off.”
She laughed. Eddie’s wife spent part of her childhood in England, and sometimes, he would slip into their idioms.
“Watching some BBC lately?”
“Yeah. We’re gonna have to take a trip back there soon. Marguerite’s been missing it.”
She could get that. She’d miss Baltimore if she moved away. Lots of people would question her sanity, but it was home.
“I’m just saying, you’ll have to kick that weirdo puppy to the curb.”
“Don’t say that.”
“He is weird.”
“No, don’t equate him to a puppy.”
He snorted, then grew serious. “I think that he has a fixation on you.”
She stopped by her car. Eddie was parked next to her. “It isn’t romantic or even just sexual. He’s still pissed I made detective before him.”
“Asshole.”
“Exactly. Kiss that baby for me.”
“I will.”
She slipped into her car. When she reached the exit, she almost turned towards Fitzpatrick’s before remembering it was closed. The thought of fast food nauseated her, so peanut butter it was. As she drove, she tried to push the idea of the case away, of the similarities to the cold case. Could it be that someone was trying to emulate the original murder? Or was it a coincidence?
She shook her head. Coincidences take too much planning, and this one looked like it. Good girl left in an alley, stabbed, stripped…left next to the trash. Was the original assessment wrong? Was the woman killed in ’87 younger than they’d initially thought?
Those thoughts rolled around in her head until she pulled into her driveway. That’s why she didn’t see him until she grabbed her purse and gun. He was sitting on her stoop with a container beside him. Eileen blinked, trying to figure out if she was imagining her favorite chef sitting there. Nope. He was there.
Slipping out of her car, she took her time walking toward him.
“Whatcha doing here, Declan?”
He cocked his head. “A little bird told me you were on your way home. I thought you could do with something good to eat.”
He tapped the container beside him. Warmth filled her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time someone took care of her. Or even thought about things like feeding her.
“Yeah?”
She couldn’t fight the smile as happiness filled her.
He nodded. “Not to be presumptuous, but I brought enough for two.”
Another kind of warmth filled her, slipping through her blood and heating her from within. Just the thought of eating a meal together, alone…the intimacy made her hot and worried at the same time. It was a weird feeling.
“Or not?”
She shook her head. “Yes. I would like for you to join me.”
Then, he smiled. It was slow, sexy, and his eyes brightened as he studied her. Her breath tangled in her throat as she studied him. His hair was down tonight, which he usually kept up at the bar. Man buns were not her thing, but on him…it made her smile.
“Let’s go in.”
He stood, grabbed the container, then stepped aside for her. She had danced with him less than twenty-four hours ago. She knew how big he was, but…this was different. It was just the two of them.
“Hey, Eileen,” Mrs. Kilpatrick called out.
Okay, not alone. She glanced at the stoop next door. Rosemary Kilpatrick was in her seventies and independent as the day was long. She stood just under five feet and probably weighed about one hundred pounds soaking wet. She wore a short housecoat and rollers in her thinning hair, but that was normal at any time of day.
“Hey, Mrs. Kilpatrick.”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” The stern look she gave Declan had Eileen biting back a laugh.
“Mrs. Kilpatrick, this is Declan Fitzpatrick.”
“Oh, you know him?”
“Yes, and he brought me food.”
Her gaze raked over him. “Are you one of Deirdre’s boys?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Declan rumbled. He had one of those wonderfully deep baritones. It always slipped beneath her heart every time he spoke.
“You tell her Rosemary Kilpatrick said hello.” He nodded, and then Mrs. Kilpatrick’s gaze turned to Eileen. “You need rest, girl.”
“Well, I would get some after the yummy meal waiting for me, but some nosey Nora is keeping me out here.”
The gleam in the older woman’s eyes told Eileen she was amused. “Don’t sass your elders.”
Then she turned and walked into her house.
“Sorry about that,” Eileen said as she continued to stand there. He sure was pretty.
“Eileen?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for the compliment, but maybe we should get out of this chill?”
Her face flushed. Oh, damn, she said that out loud.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I think you’re pretty, too.”
She rolled her eyes. After unlocking the door, she stepped aside, but he shook his head. “Ladies first.”
Such a gentleman. Of course, all the Fitzpatrick boys were like that. She had a feeling Deirdre pounded those lessons into them.
“I’ll need to warm this up a little bit.”
She nodded and showed him to her kitchen. She wasn’t a cook, but the kitchen was made for one. It had a six-burner gas stove, a large island, and tons of glass-fronted cabinets.
“Wow, nice.”
“Don’t be fooled. I burn water when I try to boil it.”
He glanced at her with a lopsided grin that had her curling her toes inside her shoes.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m here. Did you want to get out of your work clothes?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
His laugh filled the kitchen. “Not like that, although if you offer, I would definitely be okay with it. You’ve worked a long day, and I figured you would prefer to get into some other clothes. I’m the same way when I get home.”
She shook her head. “Yeah, that does sound good. What do you need from me?”
His eyes heated. “So much, but for the moment, just some pots.”
For a second, she wondered about the first part of his comment, but she was too tired to think. Besides, she was probably reading more into it because she was exhausted.
“In the cabinet next to the stove.”
He nodded.
“I’ll be right back.”
“No rush. This will take about ten or fifteen minutes to heat it up. Brought some of that bread you like too.”
She almost moaned. She loved the garlicky crusty loaf they served with their soups and stews.
“Be right back.”
She hurried up the stairs and to her room. She stripped out of her shirt and realized she smelled of stale coffee and too many hours at work. Since he said it would be a few minutes, she decided to take a quick shower. She might look like death, but at least she wouldn’t smell like it.
The minute Declan heard the shower come on, he closed his eyes. He would not think of Eileen naked with the water dripping off her?—
His eyes shot open, and he glanced down. Yep, that’s all it took. An image of her in the shower and his unruly cock was raring to go. Hell, the moment she drove up, Declan had to count backward from ten to get himself under control. Granted, he had to do it three times before it worked.
He grabbed a pot—they would have to talk about her cookware because this one was dented and older than dirt—and filled it with the Irish stew she loved. In the past, he hadn’t knowingly cooked for her. Tonight, he had been dedicated to making this the best stew she had ever had.
After setting that on the burner, he tossed the bread into the oven to heat it up. The kitchen filled with the scents of his cooking. Something settled in his chest. It was the same feeling he got the first time he had stepped into the kitchen at Fitzpatrick’s. He grabbed a couple of bowls, along with small plates and thankfully, she had butter. The woman really didn’t have any food in her refrigerator. There had been a half-empty bottle of Chardonnay, two containers of yogurt—both out of date—and a six-pack of Guinness.
His phone went off with his mother’s ringtone. He would ignore it, but he knew better than to do that, especially after what happened.
“Hey, Ma.”
“Hey, yourself. I thought you might stop by tonight.”
He had thought about it, but that was before he started cooking for Eileen. Everything else in the world seemed to melt away. All that mattered was what he had been doing for her. Declan wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“I made dinner for a friend since we were closed tonight.”
“A friend?”
This was the part he was uncomfortable with. His mother didn’t pry—especially in comparison to Joey Santini. Of course, there was a good chance that no one got into your business like Brando’s aunt. The CIA didn’t have people as talented as Joey when she ws on the trail of information. But, he figured it was better to just tear that bandage off.
“Yep. In fact, I ran into someone you might know. Rosemary Kilpatrick.”
“Oh, God,” she said with a chuckle. “Yeah, I know Rosemary. I went to school with her daughter Phyllis.”
“Well, she said hello.”
“I’ll have to check on her then. I know she lost Lloyd a couple of years ago. Phyllis lives down in DC with her husband.”
He released an uneasy breath. Now that he got his mother onto the thought of Rosemary, he might have avoided discussing who he was cooking for. Other than work, he didn’t go out of his way to cook for anyone but family. It had been at least three years since he’d been involved, and his ex had been a calorie counter. Not that anything was wrong with that, but she had an aversion to the idea of him cooking for her.
After her stunning looks and that no-nonsense attitude, he had been amazed by Eileen’s food obsession. The woman was compact, but she ate a lot of food.
“Well, I’ll be home tomorrow if you want to come over.”
“I will.”
“Say hello to Eileen for me.”
“Wait, what makes you think I’m at Eileen’s?”
She chuckled. “I know she lives next door to Rosemary. We’ve had long conversations about how nosey that old woman is. Love you.”
“Love you, Ma.”
He hung up right as he heard the floor creak behind him. When he turned, every thought he had in his brain bled away. God, she was gorgeous. No makeup, just an old FBI shirt he was sure she got from one of her brothers because it was so big. The baggy sweats showed no hint of her figure. Her feet were bare, showing off red toenails.
“I hope you’re okay with me dressing down.”
He’d rather she be naked, but Declan decided to keep that to himself.
“I’m fine with however you want to dress.”
She cocked her head and studied him for a long moment. “I believe that.”
Declan frowned. “Why would I lie about that?”
“Lots of guys do.”
The alarm he had set on his phone went off, and he took his attention away from the totally delectable woman in front of him and retrieved the bread. “Have a seat, detective, and tell me what guys lie about.”
She grabbed a glass and filled it with ice and water. “Want anything? I have Guinness.”
“Water’s fine.”
He did not need to add alcohol to the evening. He was barely keeping it together as it was.
Once they were settled at the kitchen bar, she sighed. “This was an awful day. Thank you for this.”
He studied her for a long moment. “No leads?”
She shook her head as she tore off a piece of bread and dipped it in the stew. Once it passed her lips, she moaned. Damn. He didn’t need that sound knocking around in his brain.
“I can’t really say anything. Open investigation.”
He nodded and understood. It didn’t make him feel any better, but her taking it so seriously meant the world to him. She was a first-class cop. She had proven that when Wendy had had a stalker.
She took a sip of her stew, then she slanted a look at him.
“What?”
“Her parents told me you footed the bill for their hotel room.”
It would be a long time before he would get their devastated looks out of his head. “It was the least that I could do.”
“No,” she shook her head before facing him. “It isn’t the least you could do. Sending a card. That would be the least you could do. You made sure that they had arrangements. I know there’s so much to deal with in a situation like this. Having one less thing to worry about is golden.”
“You speak from experience.”
“No.” She turned to face her food again. “Not personally. But I’ve had to deal with family members. It never gets easier telling people. At least, those who aren’t suspects.”
He hadn’t even thought about that, probably because Irene’s parents were not suspects. “Does that happen a lot with family? They’re suspects?”
Declan knew that a lot of entertainment might have that as a plot point, but he always wondered how close to reality it was.
“More often than not, it’s someone very close to the victim.”
He nodded and let her eat for a few moments. The quiet didn’t bother him, not with Eileen there, but also the cozy feel of the house.
“Let’s leave that alone so you don’t compromise the investigation’s integrity.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me why you were surprised by my reaction to how you’re dressed.”
“Not important.”
There was something in her voice, something that told him that this was something she’d dealt with in the past. “Oh, I think it’s very important.”
“Listen.”
“I’m all ears.”
She nibbled on her lower lip, which made him want to kiss her. God, this woman was driving him insane, but the truth was that she had no idea. At least Declan didn’t think she did.
“Guys tend to get off on me being a cop.”
“Okay.”
“They ask me out and seem to think I should act differently. When we date or spend time together, they start harping on me not dressing like a woman.”
“Bullshit.”
She cut him a look. “It’s true.”
“Oh, no, I believe you. I just think it’s bullshit.”
“Oh.”
“For the record, I love the way you were dressed last night, and I really love your pantsuits.”
Her brow creased. “You do not.”
He nodded. “You are put together perfectly, Detective O’Reilly. And those pants you wear for work? They show off that world-class ass of yours.”
Her face flushed, and for a second, he thought he might have overstepped. Other women, he knew what to say, but he often felt as if he were out of his depth with Eileen.
“Sorry.”
Her gaze shot to his. She had the most amazing eyes. Dark, with golden flecks within the iris. The freckles across the bridge of her nose were cute and sexy at the same time.
“You didn’t mean it?”
“No, I meant it.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I thought maybe you were offended.”
“No,” she said as she turned to face him completely. Lifting a hand, she took hold of his. “I wasn’t because it’s the truth.”
There was a long beat of silence. The laughter bubbled up.
“You are one of a kind, Eileen.”
Another blush stole over her cheeks. Adorable. He wanted more…so much more. Declan wasn’t sure where this would go, but he was sure it would be more serious than a casual relationship.
He could tell she was barely awake by the time she finished eating. Declan rose and took the bowls against her protests.
“You cook. I clean.”
He shook his head. “You’re falling asleep as you sit there. Let me do this.”
His mother had always called him a caregiver. It was partially what drove him to cook in the first place. He loved giving nourishment to people he cared about.
They spoke of nothing of much importance as he cleaned off the bowls and put them in her dishwasher. When he was done, he turned to face her, resting his weight against the counter. She was doing the same against the island.
“Thank you,” she said. Drowsiness filled her voice, and he knew it was time to leave. “I’ll have to pay you back for that.”
This was the chance he had waited for. “Go out with me.”
She blinked. “Out?”
“Like on a date.”
Again, she was nibbling on her bottom lip. “You want to go on a date with me?”
She sounded like she didn’t believe him. “Yes.”
“Okay.”
The fast reply had his head almost spinning. “Wednesday night? It’s the one night I’m off this week.”
She nodded. “Although, don’t be surprised if I have to cancel.”
“Already trying to let me off easy.”
Her mouth curved. “There is nothing easy about you. I meant that I sometimes get called in like I did on Saturday night.”
“No problem.”
She sighed.
“What? What did that mean?”
“It’s just…okay, guys always say that but then they get pissed when I have to cancel.”
He stepped forward and took her hand. “I understand. Remember, family of firemen. I’m the one weirdo.”
She shook her head. “Thank God because I wouldn’t date you otherwise.”
He chuckled. “Good to know. You look dead on your feet.”
“Way to romance me, Fitzpatrick.”
“Beautiful but tired. Come on, walk me to the door.”
He held her hand as he walked to the door. After pulling on his coat, he faced her again. The hall light wasn’t on, but her porch light was. The dim light hit her perfectly, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward to brush his mouth against hers.
It was simple, just lips against lips, but then she opened her mouth, and Declan lost a little control. He slipped his tongue into her mouth as he crowded her up against the wall. He skimmed his hands down that tight body of hers, enjoying her slight curves. It took every bit of his control to pull back. They were both breathing heavily.
Eileen lifted her hand to brush her fingers over her mouth. “Wow.”
She said the word in a hushed whisper.
“Yeah, wow.”
He swooped in for another kiss, then stepped away. If he didn’t leave right then, he knew he wouldn’t make it out of her house.
“Let me know if you can’t make it Wednesday night. We’ll reschedule.”
She nodded and watched him as he ambled down the stairs. “Lock the door, Eileen.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been caring for myself for a while, Fitzpatrick.”
“Time to get used to someone else helping.”
He stood by his car and waited. With a huff, she shut the door. Declan was humming when he slipped into his car. He might have just figured out how to handle Eileen.
He stood across the street, his concentration on the house in front of him. He watched as the giant put his paws on Eileen O’Reilly. The fucker had no right to do that. When he had seen her show up at the crime scene the night before, it was a sign he couldn’t ignore. But this…this was unacceptable.
He watched as the idiot drove away. He didn’t know the man well, but most people in Baltimore knew the Fitzpatricks. How could she let a man from that family touch her?
He drew in a deep breath…calming his nerves. He needed something else to gain her attention, something that would make Eileen understand that they were meant to be together.