Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Robert answered the front door instead of Victoria. Was she that badly hurt?
The thought cinched Cillian’s ribs even tighter than the crushing squeeze they’d been under since he’d read Robert’s brief text. “Where is she?”
“Living room.” Robert stepped aside and pointed up the hallway.
Cillian bolted past, bypassing the kitchen to directly access the living room.
“Victoria!” Her name shot from his lips louder than he intended, carried by the force of his worry.
“Keep your voice down. Sydney’s sleeping.” Victoria sat on the sofa in dim lighting, leaning back against the cushions. He’d never seen her have anything less than perfectly straight posture. She must be badly hurt.
“And you’re scaring Max.” She was giving orders, though. That had to be a good sign.
Was Max even around? Oh, there. The large dog watched Cillian, standing alert by the armchair.
Cillian strode to the sofa, staring down at Victoria. “You were hit by a car? Are you hurt?”
She let out a sigh and sat upright, slowly, as if it hurt. “I knew I shouldn’t have let Robert send you that text. What did he tell you?”
“That somebody tried to run you over in front of your house.” Fury burned through Cillian’s insides. If he ever got his hands on whoever tried to kill her, he’d—
“Not in those exact words, but close.” Robert’s lighthearted tone grated on Cillian’s nerves as the guy walked into the living room and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“I did not say you were hit by a car.” He gave Victoria a smile that was way too amused for Cillian’s taste.
Didn’t the guy care that his sister had nearly gotten killed?
Wait. Was that a bandage on Victoria’s forehead? Cillian bent over her and touched the edge of the beige-colored bandage. “You are hurt. How bad is it?”
She pulled her head away. “Not severe enough for stitches.”
He straightened. “How’d it happen if you weren’t hit?”
“I dove to avoid being struck, and my head scraped the icy snow along the curb.”
“It was really something. Here we’d always thought Victoria wasn’t athletic.” Robert’s teasing prompted her to level her brother with a narrowed-eye stare.
Okay, that was a little funny. Cillian held back the smile that wanted to come. “We should get it checked out. And you might be hurt elsewhere, too.” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket.
“Don’t you dare call the police or EMTs.” Her warning tone stopped him. “I’m a medical professional trained in wound care. I know I don’t need additional treatment.”
“What about the scrape on your arm? And you were limping at first.”
She glared at Robert.
“You have more injuries?” The anger resurged, heating Cillian’s insides. “I can’t believe this. Whoever did this is going to pay, I promise you that.”
“Cillian, no.” She brought her beautiful eyes up to his face. “Don’t take matters into your own hands or seek revenge.”
“You don’t think Clinton Glenn did this?” Robert stepped closer to them, looking at Cillian.
“He couldn’t have.” Cillian nearly gagged on the admission.
If it was him, Cillian could go back to his house and settle this right now.
“I was watching him the whole night, right up until you texted. He was still at home then, with all the lights on. I don’t think he’d gone to bed, but he didn’t leave either.
I was watching the driveway the entire time. ”
“Then I really wish I’d seen the license plate.” Robert’s eyebrows dipped. “It was too dark.”
“What kind of car was it?”
“Kind of a nondescript, dark sedan. Hard to tell at night what color, but I think burgundy or brown.”
“Great. That doesn’t match the shooter outside Judy’s or Glenn’s ride.”
“So we were mistaken about Clinton Glenn killing Thomas? And trying to kill you?” Victoria pressed her fingers to her forehead as she squinted up at Cillian.
She was in pain. He could tell. Maybe a headache?
But she was still thinking about him, not herself. She cared more about somebody trying to kill him than the fact that someone had just tried to run her over.
His heart swelled behind his ribs. This woman was really something.
He sat on the sofa beside her, careful not to move the cushions too much. “Does your head hurt?”
She lowered her hand to her lap, blinking at him.
Why would she be surprised he’d care? That he would notice when she was hurt?
“A little, yes. I already took some medication. It should take effect soon.”
He reached behind her and touched her slim shoulders.
They were wound as tight as a rope.
He gently began to massage one shoulder at a time with his fingers.
Her eyes slid shut.
His pulse pounded harder.
“Would you two like a little privacy?”
Her eyelids flew open at Robert’s question.
And Cillian shot him a glare. But he kept up the massage anyway, moving his hand to Victoria’s neck. Not going to let her annoying kid brother get in the way of that.
Robert grinned. “Now that the mood’s ruined, maybe we can get back to the mystery?”
“You’re enjoying this entirely too much, Robert.” Victoria adopted a tone she must have used on her brother when she was being his mom. “This isn’t a fictional mystery, you know.”
“I know, Vicki. But real-life puzzles can still be fun.” He switched his gaze to Cillian. “Are you positive Glenn couldn’t have gotten past you?”
“Yes.” He thought back to his stakeout by Glenn’s very large home.
Cillian had parked close to the front gate.
A wrought-iron fence enclosed the entire property.
Inside the gate was a large, circular driveway where Glenn had pulled his Mercedes into a multi-car garage.
The lights had turned on in the house when he’d entered, and he hadn’t left again.
“I had eyes on the driveway and the house at all times. At least…from the front.”
“Maybe there’s another way out.” Robert voiced Cillian’s thoughts as they hit him. “Vicki, can I use your computer?” He looked down at the closed notebook computer on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
“Yes.”
Robert slid the computer to the far side of the table and plopped down on the floor, sitting cross-legged as he tapped some keys. “What’s the address?” He glanced up at Cillian.
“4129 Lilly Way.”
Robert typed in the address. “Got it.” He peered at the screen. “Well, that’s interesting. I don’t think we need to discard Glenn as a suspect after all.”
“What did you find?” Victoria leaned forward, and Cillian let his hand fall away.
Robert swiveled the computer toward them.
An aerial GPS view of Glenn’s property filled the screen, showing the front driveway, and behind the house…
“There’s a second driveway.” The disbelief that lifted Victoria’s tone was a far cry from Cillian’s reaction.
Glenn had just tried to kill Victoria. He’d have to answer for that. To Cillian.
Victoria could feel the barely bridled fury rolling off Cillian in the passenger seat beside her. It was amazing he wasn’t fogging the window with so much heat counteracting the cold morning temperatures outside.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have agreed to drive him to the shop that apparently had his motorcycle repaired and ready for him to pick up. Now he would have transportation of his own and the means to confront Clinton Glenn, alone.
“I wish you wouldn’t do this.”
“What?” Cillian glanced her way. “Pick up my bike? I thought you’d be tired of chauffeuring me around.”
He was failing at his attempt to sound casual or teasing. Even his tone gave away the tension building inside him, causing him to tap his fingers on his bouncing knee.
“That’s it.” He pointed at the upcoming entrance marked by the sign, Specialty Auto Repair.
Against her better judgment, she pulled into the small parking lot and slowly chose a stall.
“Thanks.” He released his seatbelt and instantly reached for the door handle.
“Cillian, wait.” She touched his left hand.
That stopped him. His gaze fell on her fingers making contact with his hand, and he settled back into the seat.
“I told you last night, I don’t want you doing anything rash.”
“It’s not rash. I’ve been thinking about it all night.”
“That’s not funny.” And even he didn’t look the slightest bit amused. “You know what I mean. If you turn to violence, you’ll only get yourself into trouble with the police, which won’t help me or anyone.”
“I can’t let him think he can hurt you, Vicks.” Cillian’s gaze locked on hers, his dark orbs sparking. “He’s not going to do that again.”
Her heart squeezed. Cillian was doing this for her. He was angry for her sake.
She let her fingers linger on his hand when she should pull away. Few people, maybe no other person, cared about her quite that much. She couldn’t help but be grateful.
“Thank you. It means…” She moistened her lips. She needed to be careful not to give him the wrong impression with her gratitude. “I’m grateful that you want to help me through this difficult situation, and that you’re willing to put yourself in harm’s way to do that.”
“How could I not?” His response nearly cut hers short as it spewed out with intense energy. He put his other hand on top of hers, holding her there. “If anything ever happened to you, Vicks…” The glint of pain in his eyes and the pinch of his features finished the sentence.
Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths as she stared into those eyes, unable to look away. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Her pulse raced.
He leaned toward her, slowly inching closer as he kept his hand between hers. His gaze lowered to—
A loud rumble made her jump, pulling her hand free.
She looked out the windshield.
A heavyset man in coveralls spoke with another man by a large motorcycle that made the offending noise. Or the welcome one.
Unless she was very much mistaken, Cillian had been about to kiss her.
And she had been going to let him.