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I stepped out of the shadowed doorway.
“I’m not here to hurt these women,” I said and all eyes swung to me. What I said, of course, wasn’t totally true, but I was living in the dark edges between truth and perception. But I wasn’t here to hurt them like this—scaring children and mothers in the middle of the night.
“Then you’ll have no problem telling me your whereabouts last night,” Fat Cop said.
“Room 3 at the Bonne Terre Inn. All night.”
“Any witnesses to that fact?”
“I ordered a pizza at midnight.”
“Break-in was at two.”
“I took my box out to the garbage around that time. I waved to Mrs. Adams at the front desk.” I put my fists on my hips to keep them from going to work on the guy’s smug grin. “I’m not here to hurt anyone,” I reiterated, glancing sideways at Savannah to see if she got the message.
She stared at me, her eyes thick blue wells of anger and worry. For a moment, a millisecond, I saw the girlfriend of the man—boy, really—who’d died in the accident, whose blood was all over my hands.
The room dipped around me. Time collapsed and the point-seven seconds nearly got me.
Point-seven seconds was all it took for a building to come down. For a mistake to be made and a young man to die. Point-seven seconds. It was enough to make a guy go crazy if he thought about it long enough. And six months was just about long enough.
But I wasn’t thinking about it now. I was thinking about Vanessa O’Neill and stolen jewels.
And that tiny split in the seam of Savannah O’Neill’s skirt.
And currently, I was considering the satisfaction of this guy’s nose breaking under my fist.
“Come on, Jim,” Thin Cop said, putting a hand on his partner’s beefy shoulder. “We’re going to find out it was Owens and his friends, we both know it. Let’s leave these people alone.”
Officer Jones gave me a long look then turned to Savannah. “You. Both of you—” he glanced at Margot, raking the two women with his eyes “—you’re just like Vanessa.”
Savannah went white and I didn’t think, I simply acted, stepping in between Savannah and the policeman.
“It’s time for you to go,” I said.
It took a moment of hard stare-down between me and Officer Jones but finally the cop nodded, slicked back his thinning hair and slid his hat on. “We’ll be in touch,” he said, barely looking at the women. Instead he took a careful step toward me, and I tensed, every muscle suddenly eager for a fight.
“I’ll be watching you,” the man murmured.
“That’ll be fun,” I said with a smirk, guaranteed to piss off the cop. And it did. Luckily, his partner got a hand around the guy’s arm and led him out of the house before violence erupted.
“Oh, my,” Margot said, once the cops were gone. She collapsed onto the blue velveteen couch, a puddle of white linen and silk. “That was more than I needed this morning.”
“I didn’t like those police officers,” the little girl said, lifting her head from her mother’s neck.
“You and me both,” Margot said, holding out her arms and the girl climbed from mother to great-grandmother.
Savannah didn’t say anything, just glared at me as if it were my judgment day.
“It wasn’t me,” I said, even though I knew it didn’t matter. She either believed me or not.
“I know that,” Savannah answered, her voice rough and husky, no doubt from swallowing so much anger.
I noticed her robe, purple silk with Japanese style hand-painted flowers gliding over her breasts, tied tight at her trim waist. No wonder Fat Cop was leering—I was in danger of doing it myself. The sexy buttoned up woman from yesterday was long gone and in her place was something far more dangerous.
A woman with a lit fuse.
Christ, I wanted to touch her.
Her hair was down. Her face clean and clear of makeup, her skin like the inside of a seashell. And her eyes…well, her big blue forthright eyes were killing me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Around two this morning, Katie started screaming.” Savannah sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I ran in there and saw someone jumping out her window.”
“Oh, my God.” That had to be a parent’s worst nightmare. “Was she…is she hurt?”
“No.” The redheaded girl spoke up, pushing back long tangles of hair to reveal freckles and blue eyes. “I’m not. I was just scared.”
“Do you know why anyone would try to get into the house?” I asked. Like s fortune in stolen gems? Savannah shook her head, looking slightly lost.
“Is there anything of value—”
“That’s hardly any of your business,” Margot said, who without makeup and after a sleepless night looked her age. “Nor is it polite conversation at 7:00 a.m.”
I ducked my head, knowing I’d pushed too hard, too fast. “I apologize.”
“I do, too,” Margot said graciously. “It’s been a rough morning. But it probably was those teenagers.” Margot rested her head against the back of the settee. “The officers are right, it was only a matter of time—”
