Hazardous Duty (25 page)

I could see the pain in his eyes, but I
pushed my guilt aside. He was the one who should feel guilty.

He sighed as if the weight of the world
rested on his shoulders. “You’re right—I am no better than anyone else. I never
claimed to be. Christianity isn’t about being perfect—”

“It’s about being forgiven. Spare me.”
The cynicism in my voice even made me cringe.

“Gabby . . .” He
faltered. “I just want you to know I’ll be here for Harold’s trial. I’m a man
of my word.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“I never lied.”

I nodded. “Right, you just withheld the
truth. What is that called again, counselor?” I could see the strain on his
face, but I didn’t care.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wanted to
tell you the whole story. I still want to.”

“I know enough.”

“Don’t be like this.”

“Like what?”

“Treating me like I’m nobody to you.”

My heart thudded against my chest. I’d
hoped he
would
be somebody, and my hopes had made my weak. “You are
nobody to me, Riley. That’s all you’re allowed to be.”

“This hazelnut coffee is great.” Parker
sat at the table and held his mug under his nose.

I’d wanted to slug Parker for leaving me
here with Riley. Now I wanted to pound him for coming back before I’d had my
say. I didn’t think it boded well for a future relationship with Parker that he
mainly inspired me to violence.

“I used to think real men drank their
coffee straight and plain,” Parker said, not impressing me with his detective
skills when he didn’t notice the tension between Riley and me. “I’m a changed
man.”

“You know, I’ve got a headache.” What
the hey, huh? Lame excuse or not, I had to get out of here. I went with the
headache story, especially since it was now the truth. “If you’ll excuse me,
I’m going to head home.”

“You sure?” Parker put his mug down.

Oh, I was so beyond sure. “Yeah, I’m
sure.” I stood and grabbed my purse.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“Really, I’ll be fine. You stay and
enjoy yourself.” Before anyone could say another word, I fled. As I crossed

I sighed as I heard his footsteps
approaching at a jog. I kept walking.

“Gabby, wait up. You shouldn’t be
walking alone. Someone’s still trying to hurt you.”

“There are lots of ways to be hurt,
Riley. I’ll take my chances with Cunningham.”

“What about the bomb? Or have you
forgotten what happened in the garage?”

I stopped on the sidewalk and turned to
give him a dirty look. “Things like that aren’t easily forgotten.”

He looked down. “Look, I’m sorry. I
wasn’t trying to bring back bad memories. I don’t want to see you getting hurt
because you’re careless, either.”

“Now I’m careless?” I started to walk.

“You know what I mean.” He grabbed my
arm, jerking me to a halt. “Let me explain things to you.”

“There’s nothing to explain, Riley. You
don’t owe me anything. I’m the one who owes you something for saving my life.
So please accept that you don’t have to explain. Your private life is yours.”

“It’s so complicated, Gabby.”

“As are you, Riley Thomas.” I stepped
back from his grasp. “Goodnight. I can let myself in.”

“I’d rather I walk you.”

I nodded across the street to where
Parker and Veronica chatted. “Get back to your fiancée. She obviously thinks
you hung the moon.”

I escaped inside the apartment building
before he could respond. Pounding upstairs, I went full speed until I reached
my door. No bomb tonight. Things were looking up. Inside, I leaned against the
door and sank down to the floor.

What is wrong you with you, Gabby St.
Claire?

A tear rolled down my cheek. How had
things gone so incredibly wrong?

Get a grip, Gabby.

Wiping my tear away, I pushed myself
from the floor and reached for the light switch. Nothing happened. I tried
several times, but the room remained dark.

Had a bulb burned out? I couldn’t
remember when I’d changed them last, so it was a possibility.

I sighed and felt my way across the
room. My toe rammed into the entertainment center.

“Ouch!” I grabbed my foot and bounced
into the kitchen. Just as my hand covered the light switch, I heard a voice
behind me.

“I wouldn’t turn that on if I were you.”

I froze, trying to place the voice. It
hit me whom it belonged to: Michael Cunningham.

Chapter Thirty

Slowly, I turned around. As my
eyes adjusted to the darkness, I spotted Cunningham seated on my couch, his arm
casually draped across the back.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered,
letting loose of my foot. There was a bright side of having a murderer drop by.
He’d distracted me from my aching toe.

He rose and crossed the room. Fear
rippled through me as he stood mere feet away. I knew the eyes of a desperate
man. I looked into them now.

“We need to talk,” he rasped. Sweat
beaded his forehead. His eyes were bloodshot. He smelled like whiskey, a scent
I knew all too well, thanks to dear old Dad.

I backed up. “There’s nothing to talk
about.”

“Drop your little investigation, Ms. St.
Claire. You’re only going to get yourself in trouble.”

“Is that a threat?” Duh. I wanted to
slap myself in the head. Could I have asked a more stupid question?

“You tell me. Why were you following me
today? Who told you about Candace?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He grabbed my upper arms and shook me.
“Don’t tell me what does and doesn’t matter. Who told you?”

Okay, he hadn’t pulled a gun. He hadn’t
sent someone with a bomb. Maybe I could still reason with him. “If you don’t
get your hands off me, I’m going to scream.”

He drew in a breath and stepped back,
running his hands through his hair. “Okay. We should both calm down.”

He seemed to be trying to control
himself. A good sign. “How’d you get into my apartment?”

He glanced at me, his chest rising and
falling with labored breaths. “I’m the one asking questions, Gabby.”

“I could have you arrested for breaking
and entering.”

“No one will believe your word over
mine.”

So far, that had been the honest truth.

“You killed your wife.”

His eyebrow twitched. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why’d you do it?”

He twitched again. “I didn’t do it. You
have to start minding your own business and stop spreading these dirty little
rumors.”

I swallowed, wishing I’d let Riley walk
me up. “What are you doing here?” My voice trembled, belying my fear.

“I’m convincing you to lay off of me.
I’ve been through enough without you butting into my business.”

“I’m just trying to find the truth. I
want your wife to have justice. I want my assistant to have justice.”

“Really?” The dry edge to his voice
caused sweat to bead on my forehead. He was running out of interest in
persuasion.

Buy time, Gabby. Buy time.

“I guess the pipe bomb and carbon
monoxide weren’t enough?” I said. “You had to finish the task face to face,
huh?”

He pulled back. “What are you talking
about?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’ve been trying to
get me to shut up for days now.”

He shook his finger at me and laughed,
as if unsure whether or not I told the truth. “It’s not going to work, Ms. St.
Claire. Whatever mind game you’re playing isn’t going to work.”

I stepped back. He stepped closer.

My hands collided with the counter. I
was cornered.

“Mind your own business, Gabby. I won’t
let you cost me this election.”

“No, you’ll do anything to win. Even
murder your wife.”

He reached for me. I grabbed the first
thing I felt from behind me and swung it over his head. My glass cake dish.

It shattered in small pieces.

Holding my breath, I watched as
Cunningham’s eyes glazed over. His knees wobbled, and he sank to the ground.

I tiptoed past and ran to my door. I had
to get Parker and Riley.

Please let them be across the street
still. Please.

I tore down the stairs and outside. My
heart slowed when I spotted the three of them seated at the corner table. I
dodged cars and hurried to across the street. At the coffeehouse, I threw the
door open and ran to the table.

The three of them looked up as if I’d
lost my mind.

“Cunningham. In my apartment. Tried to
kill me.”

Riley and Parker jumped from their seats
and darted out the door.

“Who’s Cunningham?” Veronica asked,
following behind me.

“The man your father’s running against.”

Riley and Parker left me in the dust,
but I wasn’t staying behind for long. Even though I felt near collapse, my
adrenaline propelled me on. Cunningham hadn’t confessed anything, but just the
fact he’d threatened me in my apartment had to prove something. Maybe Parker
would finally believe me.

Sierra stood at the apartment’s outside
door. “They told me to keep you down here.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“What’s going on?”

“Cunningham was going to kill me.” I
gasped for air, trying to catch my breath. “He’s in my apartment. I knocked him
out with my cake dish.” Pyrex, the homemaker’s answer to mace.

Sierra threw her arms around me. “Then
this is over. You don’t have to worry about someone trying to kill you anymore.
They have reason to arrest him.”

“Kill you?” Veronica’s mouth gaped open.
“Why in the world is someone trying to kill you?”

“It’s a long story.”

Veronica crossed her arms. “There are a
lot of those going around these days.”

The last thing I was concerned about was
whether Veronica was keeping up with unfolding events. I glanced upstairs.
“What’s going on up there? Why haven’t they come down yet?”

“I’m sure it’s fine. They’re probably
just restraining him or asking questions or something,” Sierra said.

“I hope they’re okay,” Veronica said.
“It’s awfully quiet.”

Veronica’s heels clicked as she paced
the cement walkway. Sierra made a funny noise with her tongue, a clucking roll
that almost sounded like a horse’s trot. Cars zoomed past. The wind ruffled
tree leaves. Merry-makers laughed from an unknown location.

The silence was killing me. I had to
know what was going on. I had to go to my apartment.

Sierra braced herself in front of the
door. “Strict orders. You’re not allowed inside.”

“I can’t take it anymore.”

Sierra’s arms stretched across the
wooden door. “Let them handle it, Gabby.”

“She’s right. You should stay down
here,” Veronica said.

I jerked my head toward the blond, who
shrugged.

“I may not know what’s going on, but I
know Riley has good instincts. If he says stay, there’s a reason for it.”

A siren wailed in the distance. The
noise grew louder and louder until an ambulance pulled into the parking lot.

“An ambulance? Shouldn’t the police come
to arrest him?” I muttered.

A noise from inside pulled my attention
away from the flashing lights. Through the small window atop the doorway, I
spotted Riley coming downstairs. Sierra stepped away from the door and Riley
came out.

I gasped when I saw the blood on his
white shirt. Had there been a struggle? Was Riley hurt? Oh Lord, please don’t
let Riley be hurt because of me. And how about Parker? Where was Parker?

“What happened?” I whispered, desperate
to reach out and touch him, but not daring to do it in front of Veronica.

“We tried to save him, Gabby.” Riley
stepped closer. A strange emotion hovered in his eyes. Sorrow, maybe.
Exhaustion? Accusation? “We did everything we could.”

Wild thoughts collided in my head. Maybe
he’d hit his head. He was talking crazy. “You’re not making sense, Riley.”

“He’s dead, Gabby.”

My mouth gaped open. “Dead? How could he
be dead? I knocked him out with a cake dish.”

As the paramedics rushed past, Parker
staggered down the stairs, blood staining his clothes also. He glanced up at me
and something flashed in his eyes. Anger? Regret?

“You should have let me handle it,
Gabby,” he whispered. I met his gaze and he looked apologetic. “I’m going to
have to take you down to the station.”

I stepped back, dread pooling in my gut.
Something wasn’t right here. “Why do I have to go to the station?”

“For the murder of Michael Cunningham.”

Chapter Thirty-One

“How many times do I have to
tell you? I didn’t murder him. I have no idea who stabbed him. It must have
happened after I left.” I leaned back in the chair, fighting off tears.

Parker didn’t believe me. Riley probably
didn’t believe me. I was there, and I almost didn’t believe me. They thought I
killed Cunningham and, from appearances, I looked guilty.

I was so shaken, I’d even temporarily
forgiven Riley, the two-faced, engaged to a super model liar.

Riley placed his firm hand over my
trembling one. “Gabby, if you didn’t stab him, how did a knife end up in his
leg?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea. I was
only gone five minutes, from the time I ran out to get you guys until you found
Cunningham.”

“The knife has your prints all over it,”
Parker said.

“Of course it does! It’s my knife!” I
slapped my hand on the table and started to rise.

Riley nudged me back into my seat. “Stay
calm.”

“I’m being accused of murder! How can I
stay calm?”

“You won’t be charged with murder,
Gabby,” Riley said. “He obviously broke into your apartment. It looks like
self-defense, if anything.”

Riley’s voice was so calm, so soothing.
I closed my eyes and let its waves sink in. He was right. It was self-defense.