Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
This scene was almost as surreal as spending a night in jail. It was far less unpleasant, but still hard to comprehend.
Nothing was amiss in Robert’s professionally cleaned home, other than the fact that the large, modern house, decorated by interior designers in a minimalist white aesthetic of harsh lines, abstract art, and black accents, had little in common with the house’s owner.
His casual attire tonight—khaki shorts and a blue college sweatshirt—made the incongruity obvious. But that oddity was a familiar one.
Cillian sitting beside Victoria on Robert’s white sofa with all her siblings present was much more inconceivable.
Merely being so close to Cillian was playing havoc with her senses.
The spicy cologne she’d caught whiffs of when he’d first sat down kept teasing her nostrils.
Thankfully, he hadn’t sat improperly near to her, but she had caught Spring and Treese exchange a conspiratorial look when he’d immediately rested his arm on the back of the sofa behind her.
This wasn’t good. What if their father learned Victoria was associating with Cillian outside of work?
For that matter, what if he learned she was involving all his children in the murder charge and investigation? He would be furious, and rightfully so.
“Okay, now that Robby and Hank have devoured the pizza, maybe we can get to why we’re here.” Treese shot a pointed glance at Hank as he transferred the last piece of meat lovers’ Chicago style to his plate.
He tilted his head up to squint at Treese from his position on the floor next to her crossed legs. “What do you care? You got your quinoa salad all to yourself.”
She leaned forward on the sofa cushion with a grin and tousled Hank’s blond curls on top of his head. Thank goodness she kept her legs crossed. Why she’d chosen to wear that second-skin mini-skirt that revealed nearly all of her shapely legs to a family dinner was beyond Victoria.
Unless it was for Cillian’s sake. Victoria’s stomach tightened at the possibility. He was extremely attractive, and a confident rebel who enjoyed adventure and risk. Exactly the type of man Treese loved to seduce.
She did keep glancing his way with a sultry smile playing on her lips. As she was doing that very moment. “I want to know more of the story here with Cillian and Victoria.”
Victoria tensed. Leave it to Treese to take the conversation there.
“It’s hard to picture you two as high school friends. You’re so…different.”
“You’d be surprised.” Cillian’s arm shifted behind Victoria, his shoulder moving slightly closer as he turned his head to look at her. “We were very close.” His tone and emphasis added meaning to the standard phrase.
She kept her focus forward, not daring to look at his face so near to hers. She’d already noticed how handsome he looked in the black turtleneck that intensified the richness of his coal eyes and dark features.
“Really?” Treese lifted one skeptical eyebrow. “Did you date?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
The conflicting answers came from Victoria and Cillian at the same time.
She glanced at him, instantly regretting it.
His gaze locked on hers, confusion and a hint of something that looked like hurt clouding his dark irises.
“I remember I thought you were a really cute couple. Made me want a boyfriend.” Spring smiled and squeezed Torin’s hand, interlocked with hers. Her fiancé had lifted her from her wheelchair to sit beside him on the sofa, between him and Treese. He returned Spring’s adoring gaze.
Victoria forced a breath out through her nose, trying to ease the tension in her muscles without compromising her composure.
“I only meant it was never official because…” Now she’d done it, boxing herself into a corner.
She couldn’t announce to her siblings that she had rebelled against their father—the very thing she and Mom had raised them never to do.
“Because I left.”
Victoria jerked her gaze to Cillian.
He looked at her siblings instead of her, a nonchalant grin shaping his mouth. “Call of the wild and all that. Took me a while to settle down.”
Warmth began to filter through Victoria’s stomach and traveled upward as she stared at his profile.
He understood her dilemma and took the blame for something she had made him do to protect her example for her siblings.
He had made himself look bad for her, something the old Cillian, with all his confidence and pride, never would have done. Perhaps he had changed.
He turned his head toward her, catching her gaze with his. His eyes were full of meaning, of things she didn’t have the courage to decipher at the moment.
“Well, I think we’re all glad you’re back.
” The amusement in Robert’s tone made her look away from Cillian, battling to hold at bay the heat that rushed toward her cheeks.
“To help us prove Vicki is innocent, of course.” Robert grinned at her, his expression all too knowing.
Wonderful. He likely wouldn’t miss anything that was between her and Cillian, given his psychiatric training.
She might need therapy after all this. But at the moment, she needed to distract her siblings from dating speculation and put the kibosh on this whole investigation idea before it continued.
“I’m grateful you all want to help. It’s important that we rally around one another as a family during hard times. ”
“But?” Robert propped the ankle of one leg on his opposite knee, comfortably encased in the low-backed, black leather armchair. “We can all hear it coming, Vicki.” His eyes twinkled with humor.
She pressed her lips together. “But none of you should become involved with a murder investigation. It could damage your reputations to be associated with it.”
“That’s already a risk with our sister on the news, being branded a murderer.” Robert lifted his last piece of pizza off his plate and took a large bite.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Precisely my point. You should all stay as far away from me and this case as possible until everything is resolved.”
“I’m not afraid of getting my reputation a little sullied.” Treese smirked.
“Is there any left to sully?” Hank grinned at the others as he asked the question.
Treese punched him in the shoulder from behind.
“Ouch, you must be working out.” He rubbed his shoulder, feigning a wince.
“The point is,” Victoria continued in a stern tone, “becoming involved in this carries risks. No matter how you feel about it, you all know Dad would not want any of you to get involved and would want you to distance yourselves.”
“You have a valid point.” Robert nodded, his expression actually befitting the gravity of this topic. “But I would argue that Dad also does not want his daughter tried for murder or convicted of murder.”
“You don’t think it could really go that far, do you?” Spring’s eyebrows bunched as she stared at Robert.
“Someone planted evidence in Vicki’s car, and the police believed it.” He turned his head to the left toward Spring. “Who’s to say that same individual won’t manufacture more evidence?”
“How did you know about the bookend?” Victoria had been told by the lawyer her father had hired that no details about evidence had been released to the press.
“From Spring.”
Victoria swung her gaze to Spring.
“I heard it from Hank.”
Hank readjusted his long legs to cross pretzel-style. “I got it from Treese.”
“I overheard Dad on the phone with the lawyer.”
Victoria narrowed her eyes at Treese. “You overhear way too many things at that house.” She barely held back a reminder of what she’d taught Treese as a child regarding the evils of eavesdropping.
One more lesson Treese had disregarded, even back then, when she’d made it her business to know all her siblings’ and friends’ secrets.
“You’ll be glad I did.” Treese pushed her lips out slightly, the expression she used to adopt when she was about to dig in and refuse to obey Victoria. “Because Dad also said he’ll do anything to keep this case from going to trial. So I’m with Robby. Dad would want us to help you.”
Victoria opened her mouth to point out he wouldn’t want that to entail his other children putting themselves in the crosshairs of a prideful detective.
A touch on her shoulder stopped her. And robbed her of breath.
Cillian’s thumb gently brushed her shoulder through her sweater.
Barely a whisper, but the touch still sent shivers of awareness shooting up her spine.
“How about we get into what you all have in mind?” He kept his attention on the others, not looking Victoria’s direction as he continued the circles with his thumb that would be comforting if his touch didn’t have such an electric effect on her.
“Well,” Treese didn’t miss a second starting off, “I thought maybe Torin could help.” She aimed her focus at the sergeant with the Chicago Police Department’s Major Accident Investigations Unit.
“You probably know some detectives with the police, right? Maybe you could get them to realize Victoria is innocent?”
Torin shook his head. “Sorry, but the Thomas Briscoe murder is out of my jurisdiction. I do know a couple of cops who transferred there from the CPD. I contacted them, and they shared McCully is a bit of a bulldog and even more mule when it comes to sticking with the theory he thinks is right. He’ll focus on building the case that fits what his instincts are telling him, not the other way around. And he’s not open to much else.”
Cillian nodded, pausing his thumb’s caress of Victoria’s shoulder. “I can confirm that.” Everyone’s attention swung to him. “I took more information to him last night, and he wouldn’t even consider it.”
Victoria looked at Cillian with surprise. “You found something?”
He met her gaze, his handsome features so close she nearly forgot what she’d asked. “Yeah. Clinton Glenn drives a silver Mercedes, exactly the same as the getaway car of the guy we caught at Briscoe’s house.”