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“‘Together,’ simultaneously, whatever. We’re both looking into it, right?”
Jack quirked a brow to show the guy that was news to him.
“I just want to know if she’s heard anything in the years since the case went cold,” Holden said with an easy shrug. “You know this town and their gossip. I wanted to see if anyone saw anything that they told her but maybe didn’t report back then.”
Jack crossed his arms. “You don’t think she would have reported that herself? No one wants this case closed more than Robin.”
“Maybe she didn’t think it was significant enough. Any little detail could help identify the suspect, so if she knows anything, I want to know what it is.”
Since Jack was fairly confident Holden knew that any detail that would point to his brother would need to be headed off before it came to light, his jaw clenched. “I see.”
“Has she told you anything?”
“I learned more from the evidence you gave me than I learned when I heard her side of the story,” Jack said.
A mixture of guilt and relief filled Holden’s eyes before he managed to hide it from Jack’s view, and he slapped the table lightly with his palm. “Well, shoot. That’s disappointing. I was really hoping a fresh pass on this case would help us solve it. But if she doesn’t know anything more, and you only know what was in that file, I guess that means it’s back to a cold case.”
Jack’s nose burned with the urge to snort, but he held it in and offered Holden a dissatisfied expression. “Guess so. Bummer.”
If only they weren’t sitting at Robin’s kitchen table. If Jack were a detective and they were seated in an interrogation room with a station full of cops backing him up, he’d have loomed over this punk and intimidated him into spilling his guts.
Holden knew more than he was letting on. There was no question in Jack’s mind. He knew CJ had something—undoubtedlyeverything—to do with Matthew’s death, and Jack was more than capable of forcing Holden to give him up, one way or the other.
But not here. Not in Robin’s home, where she and Abby could be caught in the potential crossfire. He wasn’t armed, but he had no idea if Holden was, and he wouldn’t risk their safety.
Besides, he was a beat cop, not a detective. And at the end of the day, solving this case through the proper channels would be better for everyone.
“So,” Jack said, rising to his feet and buttoning his jacket again. “I guess we’ll catch you at the ball, huh?”
Holden stood and dipped his chin. “Guess so.”
Jack walked him out, straightened his shoulders when Holden shot him one more look that could only be described as contemptuous, then closed the door behind him.
“Robin?” he called, careful to keep his tone measured even though his heart was beating out of his chest.
Abby’s door opened a second later, and he heard Robin tell Abby she’d be right back. He had no idea what the mood in the room was before he’d arrived, but he hoped beyond all hope there’d been nothing that would alarm the girl.
He hated the idea of Abby being as scared as he was sure her mother had been. Robin knew full well that he’d been looking at Holden and his brother for this crime, and as he crossed the room to meet her in the middle with a few long strides, the fear he saw in her eyes confirmed he was right.
She crashed into him with such force that he took a step back, then ran his hands over her back and hair, which was still warm from the curler she’d been using.
“Shh,” he said in her ear as she clung to him, “it’s all good. You’re okay. I’m here.”
She wasn’t crying, but Jack felt her heart slamming against his chest at the same speed as his own. Once again, he was reminded of her strength. This woman was as strong as she was beautiful, and even though he’d previously thought he wouldn’t let anything happen to her or her daughter, at that moment, he knew he’d protect them no matter the cost.
Helovedher. That simple fact made everything about this situation feel different. She wasn’t any other victim’s wife who was potentially in danger, and there was no way he could view her with the same professionalism as he had before. He needed to protect her. Not because it was hisjob, but because helovedher, and he couldn’t lose her.
He must have done something that gave his thoughts away, because Robin abruptly pulled back and her eyes searched his face. “What is it?”
Instead of responding with the truth—because now was hardly the time—he leaned down and brushed her lips with his. “Nothing.”
Then he removed her hands from around his waist and held them in his as he stepped back. He let his gaze wander over her, and something hot uncoiled within him. He didn’t even try to hide his appreciation as he studied her captivating form in the emerald-green dress she’d chosen for the ball.
It was impossibly and unbelievably even more perfect than the red one had been. She looked like a precious jewel he needed to treasure, though at the same time, he felt unworthy.
“I realized I hadn’t checked out the winning dress,” he said after a minute, hearing the thickness in his own voice and wishing he didn’t sound like a man desperate for air.
Robin blushed and looked down. “Do you like it?”
