Chapter 2
“We’re so sorry for what you’ve been through. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to go to the hospital to get checked out?” Detective Levitz asked in the quiet break room he’d shown Daniela to.
He was a good-looking man, something impossible to miss even with everything that had happened. The numbness from before had worn off, but she was still exhausted.
And worried.
The detective had arrived at the diner a couple hours ago along with multiple police cars, two ambulances and even a fire truck. Thankfully everyone tied up in the freezer had been relatively unharmed.
One of the line cooks had been hit in the head when he tried to fight back but the wound wasn’t deep enough for stitches, so he was going to be okay. At least he’d gone to the hospital just to be safe.
Even though Daniela had been hopeful she wouldn’t have to come down to the Sanctuary Falls sheriff’s station, she’d been disappointed. But it hadn’t been as awful as she’d prepared for.
Not even close.
Maybe the detective didn’t know who her family was. Or maybe he did and he was still treating her like the victim she was. She wiped away a few stray tears that took her by surprise. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she’d killed someone.
“I’m sure. I don’t need to go to the hospital. He didn’t hurt me. And thank you again for bringing me in here.” It had been loud in the bullpen, or whatever that open space was called, so he’d guided her into the break room and shooed everyone out.
The detective nodded, his expression gentle as he watched her carefully. His blue eyes were vivid against his light brown skin. “You have my number if you remember anything else.”
She’d told him the basics and stuck to the truth—simply leaving out her and Dima’s conversation about Greg.
And the fact that she’d taken Greg’s phone.
She’d only told him that she’d shown up to the diner to get some pie on her way to see a friend, then had been ambushed by a maniac with a gun.
She’d shot him in self-defense. Case closed.
Or she really hoped that was the end result.
Luckily everyone in the freezer backed up what had happened—a gun-wielding maniac had locked them in a freezer and told them to be quiet or he’d kill them all when he was done.
She’d thought about calling in her family’s lawyer, but had decided against it in the end. She didn’t want anyone from her family involved in this right now. They would only make things worse. She’d acted exactly as a victim should. There was no reason the police should be suspicious of her.
“I’m not sure how long we’ll keep your pistol and purse in evidence—”
“I don’t care how long,” she murmured. “I don’t want to see either of them again.” Her purse was ruined anyway and she didn’t want the stupid gun. She still couldn’t believe she’d shot and killed someone, even in self-defense. She had a feeling she’d be processing it for a while to come.
His expression still gentle, the detective nodded and stood. “If you’re sure you’re okay to drive, I’ll walk you out.”
They’d let her drive to the station, thankfully.
She stood with him, glad her legs were steady.
“I’m fine to drive, but thank you.” She needed to get out of there, to go by Greg’s place, to check on him.
Dima had been texting from Greg’s phone, had indicated he’d killed him.
She couldn’t think about that too deeply just yet or she was going to be sick.
She already expected to find the worst-case scenario of what was running through her mind. She knew how men like that operated. But she still had to see for herself. And then figure out what to do from there.
“I know I’ve said it, but if you think of anything your attacker said, no matter how small, call me,” the detective said as they reached the lobby. “My direct line is on my card.”
She simply nodded even though that was never happening.
She’d acted as if she didn’t know Dima. Technically she hadn’t known him.
Just his reputation. But right now the police would be looking for a motive, for a reason that Dima Lebedev—she knew his last name now thanks to the detective—had cornered her at an out-of-the-way diner.
This detective would figure it out soon enough.
Or at least he would figure out that the Hill family and Popov family were enemies—and Dima worked for the Popovs.
Daniela used her mother’s maiden name, much to her family’s annoyance, but she didn’t care.
She wanted a layer of distance from them, even if it was only superficial.
Out in the fresh air, she sucked in a deep breath, somehow surprised that it was still daylight. It was only four now, but it felt as if an entire season had passed, as if there should be snow on the ground now instead of the fall breeze rolling over her.
She still had time to get to Greg’s place, to see if… Oh god. To see if he was alive. She’d been trying her hardest not to dwell on Greg, to obsess over the fact that Dima had his phone.
But she had to move fast now before her family got involved.
And she had no doubt that her brother would.
Maybe even his second-in-command. Ugh. She swore her brother had ears everywhere so the fact that she’d killed someone would eventually get back to him.
She wanted to be the one to tell him, but before she did and he potentially put her on lockdown, she had to go to Greg’s house.
As she headed across the parking lot, she buttoned up her pea coat. The wind was picking up and there was supposed to be a temperature drop this weekend.
Before she reached her Mercedes, an older model green Ford pulled in next to hers, annoyingly close.
To her surprise the male driver managed to slide out without touching her passenger door at all. And as he shut his door behind him and started in her direction, she got her second biggest shock of the day.
Screw that. This was number one.
“Connor,” she breathed as he reached the back of his truck.
He froze, staring at her as if he’d seen a ghost.
Though he was the damn ghost. The man she’d fallen so hard and stupidly fast for. Only for him to up and leave her without warning.
He’d left a note, but it had been bullshit. A weak excuse she didn’t buy for a second. He’d blown into her life, made her fall for him, then poof.
“Daniela.” His deep, rumbly voice woke something up inside her.
She wanted to scream. And maybe throat-punch him. Seeing him in person now, after what she’d just been through and what she still had to face… She was ready to crack.
“Cormac, hey, you’re early.” A pretty brunette, who looked weirdly familiar even though Daniela knew she’d never met her, stopped between the two of them with an easy smile on her face.
Wait a minute, the woman was talking to Connor. “Cormac?” Daniela asked with a snort. So he was a fucking liar on top of everything else. Apparently nothing between them had been real. She already knew she’d been a fool over him, but this confirmed it. He’d even lied about his real name.
He just stared at her, his expression unreadable.
Oh god, there was so much she wanted to say to him, but she didn’t have the time. And she wasn’t going to make a scene in front of a sheriff’s station. Especially since she just realized the woman talking to Connor—Cormac, whatever—had a badge on her belt.
Nope. Not today.
Not ever, thank you very much.
Shoving down an intense ball of rage she thought she’d buried when he left her in the dust with a broken heart, she slid on her sunglasses and moved past him to get into her car. She needed to get out of here. See what had happened to Greg—
She jerked her head around as he knocked on her window.
Ignored him.
He knocked again.
She hit her horn instead of rolling the window down. Then she gave him the middle finger. Screw him. She wasn’t going to say two words to him.
Thankfully he didn’t start banging on her window—part of her expected him to because that was how any one of her family members would react if ignored—but moved between their vehicles until he was standing behind her car.
For a moment she thought he was going to block her and force her to get out. Or run over him. But he finally moved away.
Today of all days, she didn’t care about what he had to say.
She kept an eye on the rearview mirror as she pulled out of her spot and left without burning rubber. Even though the urge to peel out and run over his annoyingly handsome face was strong.
Connor’s real name was Cormac.
Part of her had always known he’d been lying about who he was, but she hadn’t cared. Or she hadn’t wanted to.
God, she was such a fool.