“I have a five-year-old. At our house it’s ‘Princess Jasmine and reruns of ’Dora the Explorer’ all the time. But I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“It has to do with motive. That’s the key to any investigation. The members of the victim’s family are usually the first people the police check out in a murder case. Especially when one of those members isn’t being terribly cooperative. Your brother didn’t even want them to do the autopsy that revealed what had happened to your mother. Remember?”
Of course she remembered. The fact that she hadn’t sided with Hal on that issue hadn’t helped his attitude toward her at all.
“Did it occur to anyone to consider the stress he was under at the time? If he was less than cooperative, it was because it seemed so unnecessary to him to have that awful procedure done on her. If you think he’s not as cooperative as he should be now, maybe it’s because he’s as frustrated as I am with the lack of progress in the investigation. Instead of wasting time looking into his affairs, the police should be out looking for whoever killed our mother. It’s been nearly two months.”
Molly was on the porch. For her daughter’s sake, Eve tried to calm herself. She didn’t want Molly to know she was upset. The little girl never slept well when she knew her mommy was troubled.
“Losing Mom has been hard on him,” she continued, her tone lower even if her level of anger and frustration was not. “Aside from that, I don’t think he’s heard a word from his fiancée since she left. I don’t know if he’s hurt or worried or what he’s dealing with there, but being dumped two minutes before the ceremony would certainly impact a person’s mood. When you add all that to the fact that he’s trying to handle his city council work along with doing Mom’s job, it doesn’t take a degree in psychology to figure out that the stress might be getting to him.”
Her thick bangs slipped down to brush the corner of her eye and the top of her cheek. She started to push them back, but when she lifted her hand it was trembling. Not wanting him to notice, she lowered her hand before it reached her chin and recrossed her arms.
That small show of control got to him.
Had it not been for that effort, he could have stepped back, considered himself chastised and let it go at that. But he knew the stress of all she was dealing with was getting to her, too. It was obvious to anyone who cared to look closely enough. But instead of thinking of her own needs the way her brother seemed to do, she reached beyond herself, graciously handling all that needed to be done and protecting the people she cared about. Her daughter. Her brother.
He didn’t want another connection to her. Sharing a child and needing her as a source were about two too many strings as it was. But Rio understood all too well the need to keep feelings in check. And to protect. Like it or not, that was how he felt toward her. He must have. Otherwise, he’d have put the questions he had about her brother to her long before now.
“I understand things aren’t easy for him,” he said, his objectivity firmly in place. The guy really had been dumped on lately, and, despite his thoughts about the way he was treating Eve, Rio kept his mind truly open where Hal was concerned. The chips could fall either way. “It’s just that he raises more questions than he answers, Eve. Take that car he’s driving.” He lifted his hand toward the door, then threaded his fingers through his own hair to keep from pushing her bangs back from her eyes. “How can he afford a new Mercedes on a public servant’s salary? That car’s worth seventy thousand bucks, easy. The Lexus hadn’t been cheap, either. Forty, at least. Is he spending his inheritance already?”
She shot him a disgusted look.
Taking that for a no, he tried again.
“He mentioned investments. Is that how he makes his money?”
She didn’t know. And when Eve admitted that, she also had to admit that yet another facet of her life was no longer what it had once been. She and her brother had never been close, but now it seemed she knew precious little about him. Except for one thing.
“I love my brother, Rio. And he loved Mom as much as I did. He can’t possibly know anything about her murder.”
She spoke with conviction, but what Rio heard was a plea. She wanted him to believe as she believed. Or maybe, he thought, lifting his hand toward her face, she was just trying to find a belief she could hold on to herself.
With the tip of his finger, he drew her bangs away from her eyebrows. Her skin was warm to his touch, and so soft that it almost felt like air.
His fingers lingered at her temple, his palm curving near the side of her face. “For your sake, I hope not,” he said. Feeling her head move almost imperceptibly toward his hand, he pulled away.
From the way he stepped back, his jaw working as he shoved his hands in his pockets, it was apparent that his action had caught him off guard. But while Rio looked as if he wished he’d kept his hands to himself, Eve couldn’t deny the oddly calming effect the gesture seemed to have on her. Maybe it was because it had so abruptly shifted her focus. Or maybe it had been the gentleness of the contact itself. As big as he was, as strong as he was, he’d always been amazingly gentle with her.
The bang of the screen door was followed by a bellowed “Mommy? There’s nobody else playing outside. Do I have to come in now?”
Grateful for the distraction, Eve stepped back. “Yes, you do.” That was the rule. Molly could be on the porch only as long as other children were outside. “Bring in your dolls.”
Molly walked into the living room, her arms already laden with two Barbies and a bear. From her right fist dangled the dream catcher.
“I already got my dolls. Can he hang my catcher up for me now?”
He. Twice now, Eve had heard her little girl refer to Rio that way.
With anyone else, she would have pointed out that the man had a name and encouraged her to use it. But since this particular man’s name happened to be Daddy, and Eve was nowhere near ready to bring that particular subject up tonight, she let it go.
“Can he?” Molly repeated when her mother hadn’t answered.
Eve slid a hesitant glance toward Rio. He was waiting for an answer, too.
Chapter Five
Hanging the dream catcher didn’t require any special skill. It didn’t even require a hammer. Molly could have done it herself. But Rio had brought the child the gift, and since he’d offered to hang it earlier, Eve knew it was something he wanted to do. What made her feel like the Grinch was the fact that Molly wanted him to do it.
Jealousy was new to her. Hating it, but afraid to focus on the other feelings churning inside her, Eve stood in the doorway of the room that had once been her own and watched her inquisitive five-year-old direct the placement of the talisman. All the way up the stairs Molly had chattered away, wanting to know if the catcher Rio’d had when he was little was just like hers and if he had brothers and sisters.
The non sequitur was typical Molly. Her facile mind often took enormous, logic-defying leaps. But Rio took the jump in stride, seeming to have no trouble at all tracking her thoughts. No, the dream catcher wasn’t exactly the same, he’d told her, but it was close enough to do the job. And yes, he had a brother and a sister. He also had a mom and more nieces, nephews, aunts and uncles than he could count, he told her, then asked if she wanted him to hang her catcher high or low.
That’s what they were trying to decide now.
Molly sat on the edge of the bed, hugging Ted and contemplating the underside of the white eyelet canopy. Rio was stretched at an angle as he reached across the bed to secure his gift in the corner of the canopy frame, looking totally out of place in the overtly feminine room. Corded muscle shifted beneath his black shirt when he pulled back, his dark head reappearing from under the filmy white fabric.
“How’s