All the warmth left Lottie’s body in a rush. She wrapped her arms around herself tight. “How would they not have known this when he went to the morgue?”
The detective sighed, shaking his head in obvious frustration. “Your brother called an ambulance, saying he found your father in his chair. By all appearances it seemed like natural causes. Your father had a history of heart disease. Since no one questioned his death, I suspect no one thought anything different.”
Lottie tried to process all this. Tried to put all the pieces together. “Did my dad say anything in the video?”
“That you would be the one to take down the family.”
Lottie’s blood ran ice cold, and she shivered, squeezing her arms around herself tighter. He had to have known she’d get the video. That she’d take it to the police. In the warmest part of her heart, she believed that her father wanted exactly this—to put an end to his operation, to destroy the thing that destroyed their family. “Sorry, can I see the box again?” she asked.
A few swipes of his fingers and he handed her the tablet again. She studied the box that came apart in odd shapes. “Who solved the puzzle?” she asked.
“I did.”
She started, spinning around in her seat, finding Hunt standing in the doorway, leaning a shoulder against it, arms folded. She spotted the relief on his face that she felt too. She rose, wanting to move to him. To say something, dosomething.But she only felt her knees go weak as she began to drop.
Only she never hit the ground; strong arms caught her.
14
Hunt shut his eyes as his world righted again. There she’d stay in his arms for as long as she’d like. The detective rose from his chair and gave Hunt a nod before the interview room door shut behind him.
“I’m sorry, Lottie,” he said, dropping his head into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, releasing the tension along his shoulders. “I’m so damn sorry that your father died that way.”
“I’m sorry too,” she said and sniffed. “But my brothers are a product of the life my father created. If there is one person to blame for all this, it’s my dad.”
She held tight, and he didn’t dare let go. “You cleared my name,” he said softly.
“You protected me,” she responded.
“Not a bad team, are we?” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, loving the little quiver she gave him.
She leaned away and stared at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Yeah, we are a pretty great team actually.” Leaning up, she took his face, drawing him down to her. A sweet, tender moment passed, her teary eyes on his before her lips came toward his, and he sank into the embrace.
Neither of them was rushing or making the kiss heated. The connection—yeah, that’s all Hunt wanted.
When he did finally break away many, many minutes later, well aware anyone could be watching them through the two-way mirror, he pulled her to her feet. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
She nodded, taking his hand and following him out of the room. “You’re really cleared of all charges?”
He settled in next to her, striding down the hallway, keeping her hand tight in his. “Not officially, because of paperwork, but yes, we have enough proof that no detective is going to send my case to the district attorney.”
“Thank God,” she said.
A low chuckle escaped him. “Yeah, that was too close for my liking.”
She elbowed his side, shaking her head in disbelief. “You cannot find anything about this funny.”
Drawing her close, he wrapped his arm around her neck and kissed the top of her head. “In this line of work, Lottie, laughter is the only thing that saves you.”
The way she melted into him told him she understood.
She didn’t say much on the Uber ride home. He didn’t spark up any conversation either, holding her hand instead. Quiet, with her, was all he needed. Pretty sure all he’d ever want again.
It wasn’t until he opened her front door did she make a noise. Her loud gasp echoing around him was just the surprise he hoped for. He tugged on her hand a little to get her inside and then shut the door behind them.
“Matteo,” she said, confusion shining in her eyes.
“Hi, sis.” Matteo gave a small smile.
