Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Are you okay?” Cillian’s deep voice reached for Victoria, dispersing the fog that seemed to have descended on her mind.
Gunfire. She had hoped never to hear that sound again. Once in a lifetime was quite enough.
“Victoria?”
She blinked and turned her head to look upward.
Cillian’s handsome features greeted her, his coal eyes a stormy sea of emotion. Concern, anger…
“Is he gone?” Somehow the assumption that a person who shot at people from a moving car was male seemed logically sound.
Cillian twisted his head toward the street. “Yeah.” He placed his hands on either side of her and lifted himself up. Surprising he’d been so careful not to actually touch her with his body when he’d shielded her.
Victoria had always known he was protective and courageous. But she’d never thought she would be in such great need of those qualities as she had been during the last few seconds. Or minutes, according to how it had felt.
He had probably saved her life. And the life of poor Mrs. Kline.
He helped the older woman to her feet as Victoria sat up, her gaze staying on the hero who had protected them both. The position of his body on Victoria at the front of the step would have also blocked any shots from hitting Mrs. Kline behind them unless the bullets traveled through Cillian first.
The thought sent a shudder through Victoria. He could have been killed.
“Are you cold?” He suddenly appeared in front of her, extending his hand toward her.
She placed her hand in his and was instantly enveloped in the warmth of his large, strong grip. Sparks emanated from the heat of the connection as he pulled her to standing, less than a foot from his chest. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze.
The same electricity and emotional vortex that she seemed to have fallen into reflected in his eyes.
“Oh, my siding.” Dismay squeezed Mrs. Kline’s voice.
How had Victoria forgotten she was there? Perhaps watching them. Heat flushed her cheeks as she pulled her hand from Cillian’s and stepped away.
But Mrs. Kline stared at her house where bullet-holes made the blue siding resemble splintered Swiss cheese. “This will cost a pretty penny to repair.”
The woman was remarkably resilient. She had been shot at, and all she was concerned about was her home repair. No wonder Thomas had liked her so well. He’d always said she was the most practical person he knew.
Victoria glanced at Cillian. “I suppose we should call the police.” For the first time, she understood the way Cillian had avoided policemen when they were dating as teens. If one had been in trouble, or cared about those who were, certain police personnel didn’t seem like one’s friends.
“Could help, in this case.” He pulled his phone from his back jeans pocket but then met her gaze, waiting. For her approval?
She moistened her lips, trying to ignore the nerves that jumbled in her stomach. Somehow facing bullets had made her less apprehensive than the idea of facing McCully again. Likely because he could put her behind bars for a second time. But she nodded. “Go ahead.”
Ten minutes later, when Detective McCully emerged from his unmarked car on the street by Mrs. Kline’s house, Victoria was questioning her agreement that they should call the police.
Mrs. Kline’s short driveway was already filled with the two squad cars that had responded to their emergency call. At least the officer who had called in McCully had warned Victoria he was going to do so, once the officer had learned who she was.
The incident had to be connected to the murder of Thomas. It was a good thing McCully had been called. Perhaps he wouldn’t see her as the culprit now that someone had shot at her.
Victoria cycled through the hopeful thoughts in her head as McCully stalked up the driveway, stopping in front of her and Cillian where they stood by the first squad car.
“You sure seem to be in the middle of a lot of crimes, Ms. Weston.” His smirk didn’t distract her from the suspicion that hid behind a thin veneer of amusement in his eyes. “Guess I should’ve just sent a unit out as soon as your monitor showed you’d left Gealanden and gone to Feldon.”
Victoria hid the shudder that traveled through her. What a horrifying invasion of privacy to have her every move watched by someone, especially someone like Detective McCully.
“Got it backwards, as usual, McCully. Someone is putting her in the middle of these crimes.” Cillian’s tone held challenge. “And this time, it nearly killed her.”
McCully lifted his attention to Cillian, and the two men locked stares in what appeared to be a silent battle of wills.
“Detective McCully.” One of the two responding officers walked to them from the house. “We need you to take a look at this.”
“Right.”
Victoria stepped aside as McCully passed them to join the officers on the front porch.
“That guy might be the sorriest excuse for a detective I’ve ever seen.” Cillian’s voice dropped to Victoria, low and frustrated. “And I’ve seen some doozies.”
She folded her arms across her buttoned coat as a shiver tracked through her.
Being out in the cold this long was not helping her nerves or composure.
“I know.” She turned her head to Cillian as they both stood facing the officers investigating the evidence on the porch.
“But please let me deal with him. I know how to handle people like him.”
“So do I.” Cillian’s tone said he still had confrontation or intimidation in mind.
She sighed. She hated to go there, but… “I grew up with a forceful man used to getting his way, remember?” She angled another look at Cillian.
She didn’t want to speak negatively about her father with him, but this approach was the only one she could think of to get him to follow her request. She did not want to end up in jail again, thanks to Cillian’s well-meaning defense of her innocence.
“I think I can claim the most long-term experience.”
His eyebrows raised. The corner of his mouth twitched. “You win.”
“Thank you.”
Detective McCully started down the steps toward them.
“I’ll hold you to that.” She sent Cillian a warning glance she hoped would remind him to behave.
McCully stopped in front of them and crossed his arms over his chest. “Looks like somebody really did take a shot at you.”
“A shot? It was a lot more than—”
Victoria grabbed Cillian’s wrist to silence him. So much for his agreement to let her handle the detective. And how was his skin so warm in this cold?
She forced herself to focus on McCully and keep her expression neutral. “Yes, sadly, someone did. We’re concerned it might be someone who wants to silence me and keep me from discovering who the killer is.”
“Is that what you were doing here today? Interviewing your suspects to solve the mystery?” The detective’s mocking tone warned her to keep silent.
He lowered his hands to his hips. “This isn’t some book or TV show.
And if you were doing that, you could be charged with interfering in a police investigation. ”
Victoria hid the inner flinch at his threat. He would no doubt love to arrest her again and keep her imprisoned even longer than that one agonizing night.
Cillian rotated his wrist in her grip and, suddenly, he was holding her hand in his, hanging low at their sides.
She should pull away. What if the detective saw?
But she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. Because the sheltering, strengthening contact sent courage spiraling through her.
She didn’t look at Cillian but kept her hand in his as she met McCully’s hostile gaze.
“Mrs. Kline and I know each other from working for Mr. Briscoe. We were sharing memories of our time there.” Completely true.
Those memories just happened to be helpful for determining who had motive and means to kill Thomas.
“Surely you see, Detective, that someone else, a violent person, is trying to keep some information from coming out regarding the murder?”
“Could be.” McCully smoothed his mustache with his fingers. “Could be you hired the shooter to divert suspicion away from yourself.”
A grunt rumbled in Cillian’s throat.
Victoria squeezed his hand, hoping that would stop him from confronting the detective again. “I would never put Mrs. Kline or…” What should she call Cillian? A friend? She quickly reworded. “…Any person in harm’s way, even if I do hope to prove my innocence to you.”
“Seems like you need to look at the evidence a bit longer, Detective.” Cillian spoke before she could stop him.
But at least his tone was controlled, albeit something akin to a leash on a tiger.
“We’ll leave you to it.” He tugged gently on Victoria’s hand to turn her away, letting go to lightly touch her back as he guided her down the driveway.
At least that would prevent the detective from seeing they had held hands.
Victoria looked over her shoulder at McCully.
His eyes narrowed as he watched them, but he didn’t say a word.
“Just keep going.” Cillian moved to her side, and they continued to walk down the driveway to the vehicles they had parked along the street when they’d first arrived. “He can’t hold us for anything.”
She sighed. “I had hoped this would at least show him I’m innocent.”
“Yeah. So much for the smoking gun changing his mind.” Cillian gave her a rueful smile as they stopped in front of her car.
“I wonder—”
Chopin’s music interrupted her reply. She dug in her pocket for her phone and pulled it out.
“That ringtone is so you.” Cillian grinned.
She gave him a half smile, then looked at the screen. “It’s an unknown number.”
“Better take it. Might be a tip or something. Or Briscoe’s lawyer.”
It was true, Victoria hadn’t added him to her contacts yet, though she had called him back to set up a meeting to go over the terms of her inheritance this coming week.
At least she didn’t have to remove her gloves to answer the call. She used the touchscreen finger, then pressed the phone to her ear. “Victoria Weston.”