Presumed Guilty & Keeper of the Bride (27 page)

The music ended. Daniella sprang to her feet with an easy grace. As she turned to reach for a towel, she noticed Nina standing in the doorway. “Oh. Good morning.”

“Morning,” said Nina. “I guess I overslept. Has Dad already left for work?”

“You know how he is. Likes to get started at the crack of dawn.” With the towel, Daniella whisked away a delicate sheen of perspiration. A discomforting silence stretched between them. It always did. It was more than just the awkwardness of their relationship, the bizarre reality that this golden goddess was technically Nina’s stepmother. It was also the fact that, except for their connection through George Cormier, the two women had absolutely nothing in common.

And never had that seemed more apparent to Nina than at this moment, as she stood gazing at the perfect face of this perfect blonde.

Daniella climbed onto an exercise bike and began pedaling away. Over the whir of the wheel, she said, “George had some board meeting. He’ll be home for dinner. Oh, and you got two phone calls this morning. One was from that policeman. You know, the cute one.”

“Detective Navarro?”

“Yeah. He was checking up on you.”

So he’s worried about me,
thought Nina, feeling an unexpected lifting of her spirits. He’d cared enough to make sure she was alive and well. Then again, maybe he was just checking to make sure he didn’t have a new corpse on his hands.

Yes, that was the likely reason he’d called.

Feeling suddenly glum, Nina turned to leave the room, then stopped. “What about the second call?” she asked. “You said there were two.”

“Oh, right.” Daniella, still pumping away, looked serenely over the handlebars. “The other call was from Robert.”

Nina stared at her in shocked silence. “Robert called?”

“He wanted to know if you were here.”

“Where is
he?
”

“At home.”

Nina shook her head in disbelief. “You might have told me earlier.”

“You were sound asleep. I didn’t see the point of waking you.” Daniella leaned into the handlebars and began to pedal with singleminded concentration. “Besides, he’ll call back later.”

I’m not waiting till later,
thought Nina.
I want answers now. And I want them face-to-face.

Heart thudding, she left the house. She borrowed her father’s Mercedes to drive to Ocean View Drive. He’d never miss it; after all, he kept a spare Jaguar and a BMW in the garage.

By the time she pulled into Robert’s driveway, she was shaking from both anger and dread. What on earth was she going to say to him?

What was he going to say to
her?

She climbed the porch steps and rang the doorbell. She didn’t have her house keys. Sam Navarro did. Anyway, this wasn’t her house any longer. It never had been.

The door swung open and Robert stood looking at her in surprise. He was wearing running shorts and a T-shirt, and his face had the healthy flush of recent exercise. Not exactly the picture of a man pining for his fiancée.

“Uh, Nina,” he said. “I—I was worried about you.”

“Somehow I have a hard time believing that.”

“I even called your father’s house—”

“What happened, Robert?” Her breath rushed out in a bewildered sigh. “Why did you walk out on me?”

He looked away. That alone told her how far apart they’d drifted. “It’s not easy to explain.”

“It wasn’t easy for me, either. Telling everyone to go home. Not knowing why it fell apart. You could have told me. A week before. A
day
before. Instead you leave me there, holding the damn bouquet! Wondering if it was all
my
fault. Something
I
did wrong.”

“It wasn’t you, Nina.”

“What was it, then?”

He didn’t answer. He just kept looking away, unwilling to face her. Maybe afraid to face her.

“I lived with you for a whole year,” she said with sad wonder. “And I don’t have the faintest idea who you are.” With a stifled sob, she pushed past him, into the house, and headed straight for the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” he yelled.

“Packing the rest of my things. And getting the hell out of your life.”

“Nina, there’s no need to be uncivilized about this. We tried to make it. It just didn’t work out. Why can’t we still be friends?”

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

“I like to think so. I don’t see why we can’t be.”

She shook her head and laughed. A bitter sound. “
Friends
don’t twist the knife after they stab you.” She stalked into the bedroom and began yanking open drawers. She pulled out clothes and tossed them on the bed. She was beyond caring about neatness; all she wanted was to get out of this house and never see it again. Or him again. Up until a moment ago, she’d thought it still possible to salvage their relationship, to pick up the pieces and work toward some sort of life together. Now she knew there wasn’t a chance of it. She didn’t want
him.
She couldn’t even recall what it was about Robert Bledsoe that had attracted her. His looks, his medical degree—those were things she’d considered nice but not that important. No, what she’d seen in Robert—or imagined she’d seen—was intelligence and wit and caring. He’d shown her all those things.

What an act.

Robert was watching her with a look of wounded nobility. As if this was all her fault. She ignored him and went to the closet, raked out an armful of dresses, and dumped them on the bed. The pile was so high it was starting to topple.

“Does it all have to be done right now?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“There aren’t enough suitcases.”

“Then I’ll use trash bags. And I need to take my books, too.”

“Today? But you’ve got tons of them!”

“This week I’ve got tons of time. Since I skipped the honeymoon.”

“You’re being unreasonable. Look, I know you’re angry. You have a right to be. But don’t go flying off the damn handle.”

“I’ll fly off the handle if I
want
to!” she yelled.

The sound of a throat being cleared made them both turn in surprise. Sam Navarro stood in the bedroom doorway, looking at them with an expression of quiet bemusement.

“Don’t you cops
ever
bother to knock?” snapped Robert.

“I did knock,” said Sam. “No one answered. And you left the front door wide open.”

“You’re trespassing,” said Robert. “
Again
without a warrant.”

“He doesn’t need a warrant,” said Nina.

“The law says he does.”

“Not if I invite him in!”

“You didn’t invite him in. He
walked
in.”

“The door was open,” said Sam. “I was concerned.” He looked at Nina. “That wasn’t smart, Miss Cormier, driving here alone. You should have told me you were leaving your father’s house.”

“What am I, your prisoner?” she muttered and crossed back to the closet for another armload of clothes. “How did you track me down, anyway?”

“I called your stepmother right after you left the house. She thought you’d be here.”

“Well, I am. And I happen to be busy.”

“Yeah,” muttered Robert. “She’s really good at being busy.”

Nina spun around to confront her ex-fiancé. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not the only one to blame in all this! It takes two people to screw up a relationship.”

“I didn’t leave
you
at the church!”

“No, but you left me. Every night, for months on end.”

“What?
What?
”

“Every damn night, I was here on my own! I would have enjoyed coming home to a nice meal. But you were never here.”

“They needed me on the evening shift. I couldn’t change that!”

“You could’ve quit.”

“Quit my
job?
To do what? Play happy homemaker to a man who couldn’t even decide if he wanted to marry me?”

“If you loved me, you would have.”

“Oh, my God. I can’t believe you’re turning this into my fault. I didn’t
love
you enough.”

Sam said, “Nina, I need to talk to you.”

“Not now!”
Nina and Robert both snapped at him.

Robert said to her, “I just think you should know I had my reasons for not going through with it. A guy has only so much patience. And then it’s natural to start looking elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” She stared at him with new comprehension. Softly she said, “So there was someone else.”

“What do you think?”

“Do I know her?”

“It hardly makes a difference now.”

“It does to
me.
When did you meet her?”

He looked away. “A while ago.”

“How long?”

“Look, this is irrelevant—”

“For six months, we planned that wedding. Both of us. And you never bothered to tell me the minor detail that you were seeing another woman?”

“It’s clear to me you’re not rational at the moment. Until you are, I’m not discussing this.” Robert turned and left the room.

“Not
rational?
” she yelled. “I’m more rational now than I was six months ago!”

She was answered by the thud of the front door as it slammed shut.

Another woman,
she thought.
I never knew. I never even suspected.

Suddenly feeling sick to her stomach, she sank down on the bed. The pile of clothes tumbled onto the floor, but she didn’t even notice. Nor did she realize that she was crying, that the tears were dribbling down her cheeks and onto her shirt. She was both sick and numb at the same time, and oblivious to everything but her own pain.

She scarcely noticed that Sam had sat down beside her. “He’s not worth it, Nina,” he soothed quietly. “He’s not worth grieving over.”

Only when his hand closed warmly over hers did she look up. She found his gaze focused steadily on her face. “I’m not grieving,” she said.

Gently he brushed his fingers across her cheek, which was wet with tears. “I think you are.”

“I’m not. I’m
not.
” She gave a sob and sagged against him, burying her face in his shirt. “I’m not,” she whispered against his chest.

Only vaguely did she sense his arms folding around her back, gathering her against him. Suddenly those arms were holding her close, wrapping tightly around her. He didn’t say a thing. As always, the laconic cop. But she felt his breath warming her hair, felt his lips brush the top of her head, and she heard the quickening of his heartbeat.

Just as she felt the quickening of her own.

It means nothing,
she thought. He was being kind to her. Comforting her the way he would any hurt citizen. It was what she did every day in the ER. It was her job. It was his job.

Oh, but this felt so good.

It took a ruthless act of pure will to pull out of his arms. When she looked up, she found his expression calm, his green eyes unreadable. No passion, no desire. Just the public servant, in full control of his emotions.

Quickly she wiped away her tears. She felt stupid now, embarrassed by what he’d just witnessed between her and Robert. He knew it all, every humiliating detail, and she could scarcely bear to look him in the eye.

She stood up and began to gather the fallen clothes from the floor.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No.”

“I think you need to. The man you loved leaves you for another woman. That must hurt pretty bad.”

“Okay, I
do
need to talk about it!” She threw a handful of clothes on the bed and looked at him. “But not with some stone-faced cop who couldn’t care less!”

There was a long silence. Though he looked at her without a flicker of emotion, she sensed that she’d just delivered a body blow. And he was too proud to show it.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Oh God, Navarro, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Actually,” he said, “I think I did.”

“You’re just doing your job. And then I go and lash out at you.” Thoroughly disgusted with herself, she sat down beside him on the bed. “I was just taking it out on you. I’m so—so angry at myself for letting him make me feel guilty.”

“Why guilty?”

“That’s the crazy part about it! I don’t know why I should feel guilty! He makes it sound as if I neglected him. But I could never quit my job, even for him. I love my job.”

“He’s a doctor. He must’ve had long hours as well. Nights, weekends.”

“He worked a lot of weekends.”

“Did you complain?”

“Of course not. That’s his job.”

“Well?” He regarded her with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh.” She sighed. “The old double standard.”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t expect my wife to quit a job she loved, just to make dinner and wait on me every night.”

She stared down at her hands, clasped in her lap. “You wouldn’t?”

“That’s not love. That’s possession.”

“I think your wife’s a very lucky woman,” she said softly.

“I was only speaking theoretically.”

She frowned at him. “You mean…it was just a theoretical wife?”

He nodded.

So he wasn’t married. That piece of information made her flush with a strange and unexpected gladness. What on earth was the matter with her?

She looked away, afraid that he might see the confusion in her eyes. “You, uh, said you needed to talk to me.”

“It’s about the case.”

“It must be pretty important if you went to all the trouble of tracking me down.”

“I’m afraid we have a new development. Not a pleasant one.”

She went very still. “Something’s happened?”

“Tell me what you know about the church janitor.”

She shook her head in bewilderment. “I don’t know him at all. I don’t even know his name.”

“His name was Jimmy Brogan. We spent all yesterday evening trying to track Brogan down. We know he unlocked the church door yesterday. That he was in and out of the building all morning. But no one seems to know where he went after the explosion. We know he didn’t turn up at the neighborhood bar where he usually goes every afternoon.”

“You said
was.
That his name
was
Jimmy Brogan. Does that mean…”