Page 90 of Family Affair
And you know this how?The unasked question hung in the air, but Coco turned her back on Stella and pretended not to understand.
Lucy asked Cade something about Atlanta and summer heat, but Coco couldn’t hear them for the ringing in her ears from sudden nerves. She stayed where she was, waiting for the coffee to brew.
When it was ready, she automatically poured and added a bit of sugar, bringing it over and putting it in front of him.
He looked up at her from his sitting position, so close. She couldn’t resist. “Does it hurt?” She gently touched his jaw.
“It’s nothing.” Ever so slowly, he turned his face away from her touch, and she dropped her hand.
Stepping away, she glanced around wondering what possessed her to touch him. Lucy hadn’t noticed, busy slathering his slice of bread with jam, but Stella stared, and her expression saidOh, shit.
“So, did Detective Willis give you a hard time for the fight?” she asked lightly.
He chuckled again. “I’ll have you know that he got into a lot more trouble because of that fight than we did. He organized his premiere unsanctioned and against protocol, so he’s in a hot seat right now. Not that I feel sorry for him.”
“What’s so terrible about that video? Coco said it only recorded the parking lot,” Stella inquired politely, and Coco found her tone too polite. Stella was digging for information.
“The existence of the video’s what matters.” Cade shrugged and sipped his coffee. “Willis didn’t need Coco’s statement, and he didn’t need her there for the viewing. He chose to make a spectacle out of it, and he bit more than he can chew.”
“That’s why you and Dan went a little crazy and decorated each other’s faces with these nice purple bruises?” Stella batted her eyelashes at him, all innocence.
Coco looked at him, a little panicked, at a loss of how to covertly convey to him the need to keep the adult content of the video undisclosed.
But she needn’t have worried. Cade didn’t buy into Stella’s fishing tactics. “Dan got mad at not playing a part in the movie.” He didn’t add anything else and the small smile he offered Stella was chill.
“I sure hope you and your boisterous kin will soon put this investigation to bed. Coco’s been practically harassed by the police on your account.” Stella meaningfully raised her brows.
Cade turned to Coco. “What doesshemean?”
Coco shifted in her chair, shooting Stella a glance. “Just that I’ve been questioned.”
“Twice,” Stella supplied.
This time Coco didn’t bother concealing the annoyance in the look she threw at Stella. “The detectives were only doing their job.”
“The detectives,” Cade repeated.
“First Willis, he caught me at the park where I was painting. That had happened before the incident at the station. And this morning Detective Smirnoff showed up at my work.”
Cade grunted but said nothing else. Coco got the impression that there were a couple of things he wanted to say but refrained in Stella and Lucy’s presence.
She was relieved. She didn’t really want to talk to him about the investigation. It made his circumstances real, and it raised questions Coco didn’t want answered, about Cade, and about the late Ward Williamson, and about the Pollock drawing, and Frank, and the tangled knot of feelings that certain Sheffield men seemed to generate within her so easily.
As promised, Cade didn’t stay long. “Thanks for the coffee.” He inclined his head in Lucy’s direction and acknowledged Stella, however coolly. In an uncharacteristic display of exceptional manners, he made all the right noises about the delicious bread and great company, leaving Coco with the discovery of yet another facet of his personality. If he so chose, Cade could be charming.
“I’m glad you stopped by.” Coco followed him outside.
He turned to face her in the darkness. “I shouldn't have come. But I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Me? I wasn’t the one who welcomed an uppercut with my face and rubber batons with my kidneys.”
Chuckling, he touched his bruised chin. “It’s alright. I’m sorry for the show. That schmuck Willis deserves a good application of a baton to his ass.”
“I hope you’re not planning to administer it.”
“I’m not,” he said in a tone suggesting he just might do the opposite. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid. Again. But you need to be careful. Lock your doors and windows at night and tell you mother to ask who’s at the door before throwing it open.”
“Why?” She peered at him in the darkness, trying to discern the expression in those dark eyes, but all she could see was shadows.
