Chapter 12 #2
She kept walking without looking at Cillian. “Politeness goes a long way toward keeping the peace with people like him. You should try it sometime.”
“I’ll stick with putting bullies in their place, thanks. I am enjoying this part, though.”
What part? She glanced at him.
He grinned and sent a pointed look to her hand. Which was still holding his arm.
She yanked her hand away. She had not meant to do that.
“Feel free to grab my hand next time instead.” A flirtatious tone colored his words.
The heat flooding her cheeks turned several degrees hotter. She walked faster, trying to think of a clever retort as he easily kept up.
Classical music filled the air. Her ringtone. Thank the Lord for the perfectly timed rescue.
She pulled the phone from the outer pocket of her purse and held it to her ear before checking caller ID. “Victoria Weston.”
“Ms. Weston, this is Robert Neely.”
Thomas’s lawyer?
“I’m Thomas Briscoe’s attorney, and I’m contacting you regarding his will.”
Victoria barely registered that Cillian held open a door for her, which she automatically passed through. Why would Thomas’s attorney be contacting her about—
“You’re named as the beneficiary of his estate, including his house, property, and most of his financial assets.”
She stopped walking.
“Victoria?” Cillian’s tone matched the concern in his eyes, but her mind was fully occupied trying to comprehend what she’d just heard.
“I’m sorry, did you say Thomas left something to me in his will? I’m a beneficiary?”
“You are the sole beneficiary of almost the entirety of his estate, Ms. Weston.”
Her knees suddenly felt weak and wobbly.
A hand closed under her elbow. Cillian.
“I understand this is a shock, Ms. Weston. But the family wanted me to move forward with the will and division of his assets as quickly as possible. So I would like to schedule a meeting with you in the next day or two, if that works for you.”
She moistened her lips, trying to remember to breathe. “I…Yes. I’ll need to check my schedule. Would you mind if I call you back?” The shock clouding her mind meant she was in no condition to think clearly at the moment.
“Not at all.” He gave her his number, which she couldn’t possibly remember in her current state. But she would count on her caller ID to return his call. “Please call soon.”
“Of course. Thank you.” Her voice sounded so oddly normal to her own ears. She lowered the phone.
“Victoria? What is it?” Cillian’s support of her elbow seemed to be the only thing holding her up.
She looked at his dark eyes. “Thomas left me his…estate. Almost everything, according to his attorney.”
Cillian’s brows lifted toward his hairline. “You’re kidding.”
“I don’t believe so. He sounded serious. He said Thomas named me as beneficiary of his house and financial assets.”
“The house?”
Why did Cillian’s eyes light with that expression she knew all too well? He had an idea. One that would likely lead her into trouble.
“Yes…” She let the word out cautiously.
“That means you can legally search his house now. We should go there.”
“Why?”
Cillian glanced at the people moving about in the lobby.
He tugged gently on her elbow, guiding her to the exit doors.
“Because we clearly need more evidence to convince the lieutenant and his blind detective that Briscoe was murdered.” He pushed open the glass door and pulled her along with him into the bright sunlight that failed to warm the air.
“Or to convince the press, if we have to go to them.”
“Cillian, no.” She halted, slipping away from his loose hold. “We’ve done enough. I don’t want to risk irritating the police any more than we already have. You do realize they can arrest people.”
He laughed. “They can’t arrest us if we don’t do anything illegal. You just said you own the house.”
“That’s not exactly what I said.”
“But it’s the truth. All we’re going to do is take a look inside and see if we can find more evidence.”
“The lieutenant told us to stay out of this, and so did Detective McCully. I’m going to listen to them, as I should have done in the first place.” She brushed past Cillian to head for her car two rows away in the parking lot.
“What about Thomas?” Cillian’s voice and his tall frame caught up with her infuriatingly quickly. “Are you just going to forget about him?”
“Of course not.” The heat of her irritation and brisk pace created a cloud in front of her mouth as she walked.
“Do you want his killer to get away with murdering him in cold blood?”
She didn’t answer. Cillian already knew she didn’t want that. But she also didn’t want to rub the wrong people the wrong way. “It’s better to be patient with people like this. I can likely convince them, in time, if we don’t keep angering them.”
“Time is not a luxury we have with murder. We need to act as quickly as possible before the killer or killers have a chance to cover up their tracks or disappear.”
She threw him a glance. Where did he learn these things? But he wasn’t wrong. At least as far as she knew.
She slowed as she passed his motorcycle parked in the stall next to her car.
“Look, I know Thomas was a friend. Someone special.”
Victoria stopped by her car, reluctantly facing Cillian as his tone softened. She should duck into her car before he really turned on the charm.
“I know how much you care about people. You want justice for Thomas. I know that.”
She met Cillian’s intense gaze. “Of course I do.”
“Then come with me to his house tonight, and let’s find the evidence that will catch his killer. Let’s do it for Thomas.”
For Thomas. The memory of his face the last time she’d spoken with him, the uncharacteristic fear in his eyes, blocked her vision. He’d wanted her help. He had trusted her when he couldn’t trust anyone else. She couldn’t fail him now. She owed him that much, at least.
She took in a deep breath of cold air. “You’re right. Thomas would want me to find his killer.” She looked up to see Cillian’s grin.
His very handsome, annoying grin.
She resisted the urge to smile in return. “But not now. I have patients to see.” One of which she’d already pushed until later in the day thanks to Cillian’s insistence that they immediately report the threatening note.
“Of course. So do I.” His mouth straightened, an attempt to appear sober, but his eyes still twinkled with mischief.
“I can meet you there this evening.”
He thumbed to his motorcycle behind him. “Sure you don’t want me to pick you up on the bike?”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
The grin returned. “All right. I’ll meet you there.”
“Eight thirty sharp.” That would give her time to feed Max at home and complete some documenting first.
“Yes, ma’am.” The words and that irresistible grin sent a shiver up her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
Why did she feel as if she’d agreed to a date with her high school crush?
She slipped behind the wheel of her car and resisted looking at Cillian as she peeled away. She would need to figure out how to deal with him, since it seemed he wasn’t going away anytime soon. And since, for some reason, that idea was starting not to bother her like it should.
But one challenge at a time. Tonight, perhaps, she could help the friend who had apparently given her everything he valued in life. A life that someone had taken from him.