was to make her afraid.
“I know we haven’t met under the best of circumstances, but I’m not my uncle, Leigh. I’m on your side.”
She inhaled visibly. Watching her marshal her mental defenses took only a split second, but it revealed quite a bit about her. Leigh would face whatever life tossed at her. He should have known that from the way she’d handled herself when Ducort had threatened to kill her. Still, his admiration went up another notch as she raised her chin another notch and held his gaze.
“What side would that be, exactly?”
Mentally he applauded the challenge. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee and we can discuss it.”
“It’s ninety-eight degrees out here.”
“Good point.” He offered her a wry smile. “How about an iced tea instead?”
“Thanks, but I have to go…home.”
The catch in her voice gave him another glimpse of her vulnerability. Wyatt shook his head. “I’m assuming you don’t mean home to Boston, but if you mean to the Walken estate, I just came from there. Nan said everyone left to avoid the media. They’re still camped out in front of both estates. And if you meant Heartskeep, the state police haven’t finished their investigation yet.”
Panic flared in her expression. While she had plenty of reason to distrust the police, panic made no sense. Yet she looked ready to bolt.
“One drink,” he said gently. “Better yet, what about an ice-cream cone?”
“Ice cream?”
She formed the words as if they were foreign to her. Her eyes skimmed the street—searching for a way to escape? What the devil was going on? He’d take bets it had something to do with her death grip on that case.
This didn’t seem like a good time to remind her of the talk they were supposed to have about the events surrounding her mother’s disappearance.
“Ice cream,” he said calmly. “You know, that frozen stuff that melts on your tongue when you lick it.”
Her eyes widened. He hadn’t meant a sexual connotation, but even to him the words came out sounding that way.
“I can’t.”
“We don’t have to talk, Leigh,” he coaxed gently. “I told you I’d make an appointment for that. I’d just like some company right now. I’m not used to having nothing to do all day.”
She stared at him blankly.
Tempted to explain his temporary suspension, he decided it was better not to remind her of the events of the other night. She’d come far too close to being killed as it was.
“We could drive out to Golden’s, grab a cone and come right back.”
She was shaking her head back and forth even before he finished.
“You could call Gavin and invite him to come with us,” he added.
“No!”
Instant and vehement. So there was some sort of problem between them. A lovers’ spat? He’d never realized his friend was an idiot. Wyatt shouldn’t have liked the fleeting notion that maybe their relationship wasn’t what he’d thought.
“I don’t want to talk to Gavin right now,” she amended quickly. “I’m not… I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now.”
That was pointed enough, but he wasn’t about to let her go when she was so obviously upset.
“Then we won’t talk,” he agreed. “But let’s get out of this sun before we fry.”
She studied his face. Wyatt was relieved when, after a moment’s hesitation, she fell into step beside him. Despite this unexpected jolt of attraction to her, he had no intention of encroaching on his friend’s relationship with Leigh. This was strictly business. He was a cop with a case to solve, and the contents of that briefcase were of major interest to him. He’d keep things light and impersonal. Once he gained her trust, he’d ask her about the case.
Of course, gaining her trust would be the hard part.
ALEXIS WONDERED if she’d taken leave of her senses. Going anywhere with this incredibly handsome stranger was pure folly, yet she’d taken one look into those warm brown eyes and felt an instant connection to this man. The impact had rattled her more than she cared to admit. He wasn’t breathtakingly handsome, but he was the sort of man a woman would always notice.
What on earth had possessed her to let him believe she was someone else?
Because it had seemed the quickest way to get rid of him. Obviously that had been a big mistake on her part. What would he do if she told him she had no idea who Leigh or Gavin were? Or him, either, for that matter?
The thought was dangerously tempting. She was so tired she couldn’t seem to think past her fear and exhaustion. Her father’s note had told her to come here for answers, only there were no answers for her here. Ira Rosencroft was dead.
Alexis had wanted to ask the woman inside how he’d died, but a man had come out of an office to ask a question. Maybe this Gavin person. The receptionist or whoever she’d been had asked the man to wait while she offered Alexis an appointment to see a Mr. Jarret next week.
Alexis declined. Her father’s note had said not to trust anyone except the lawyer and someone named Kathy. But when she had asked the woman if a Kathy worked there, the woman had shaken her head. With the man standing there waiting, Alexis had thanked her and left. Now she didn’t know what to do.
An uneven bit of pavement sent her stumbling. The man beside her had a firm, strong grip as he took her bare arm to keep her from falling. His touch reinforced her vibrant awareness of him. Under other circumstances, she might have welcomed the unexpected reaction. As it was, she wished he’d go away and let her think.
“Easy, there.”
His voice was soothing to nerves that felt stretched far too tight.
“Why don’t you let me carry that case for you?”
Panic lifted her eyes to his. “No!”
Instantly his expression changed. What was the matter with her? She’d overreacted, made him curious. Calling his attention to the briefcase like that had been stupid. He’d already expressed an interest in the contents. If he saw all that money…
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I haven’t had much sleep and my nerves are a little shot right now,” she told him truthfully.
His expression relaxed. Her stomach gave a funny little lurch at the compassion in his eyes.
“I know,” he told her. “It’s okay. Come on. I’m parked right over here.”
There was nothing for it but to resume walking. The kindness in his warm brown eyes was dangerous. Dangerous, because she wanted to trust him. She was so tired. So scared. Grief had vied with fear all night long. She’d taken a room at a motel right off the highway last night and had lain sleeplessly, going over and over her father’s death, wondering what she could have done differently.
The half cup of coffee she’d managed to swallow this morning was still burning a hole in her stomach lining. It was so hard to think.
Her roommate was in California for the week, which meant that no one had yet discovered her father’s body.
Except his killers.
She shouldn’t have run. She should have stayed and called the police. She nearly had called more than once last night. But each time she’d reached for the telephone, fear had stilled her hand. The police would have questions. Alexis didn’t have answers.
She’d thought if she talked to this Mr. Rosencroft first, everything would make sense. But if he was dead, too, she didn’t know where to go next. Had he