Page 34 of Wasted
Might as well push her a little more off-kilter. “Did you follow up with McCully on the murder?”
“Murder?” Racquelle’s mouth dropped open. “What murder?” She jumped her gaze from Cillian to Victoria.
“Didn’t you tell her?” Cillian aimed the question at Victoria.
Her eyes narrowed a tad at the corners as she met his gaze.
He barely held back the chuckle that wanted to escape.
She’d always been cute when he ruffled her feathers.
“Tell me what?” Impatience edged Racquelle’s tone.
Victoria turned her attention to her boss. “I thought there were some suspicious aspects to Mr. Briscoe’s death. I shared those with the police when they were asking me about him.”
“Do they think it’s a murder?” Racquelle tossed a glance at Cillian.
He shook his head and answered before Victoria could downplay it. “The detective on the case is being muleheaded about it. Victoria has terrific evidence that points to murder, but he won’t listen. I suggested she talk to him again or go above his head.”
“I can’t comment on that.” Racquelle gathered some papers into a folder she had lying on the counter. “What you do on your own time is your choice, of course.” She looked at Victoria. “But we wouldn’t want CareFull to be associated with a criminal investigation, so you’d have to be cautious with how you go about any involvement.”
Victoria gave a small nod. “Of course.” She watched Racquelle walk away and disappear into the hallway while Cillian watched Victoria. Her profile anyway.
Her head suddenly swung toward him. “What are you doing?” She lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “Are you trying to get me into trouble?”
He did chuckle then. As much as she’d grown up since they were teens, she apparently still freaked out at the idea of getting in trouble more than anything else. He grinned and shook his head. “Maybe things haven’t changed so much after all.”
She pinched her lips together and stretched her spine to straighter than straight since she already had perfect posture. “If you didn’t come here to sabotage me or my life, then you have an odd way of showing it.” She spun on her heels and marched away, headed toward the hallway that led to the back of the building.
He strode after her, catching up in seconds with his longer stride. “Look, you can’t blame me for talking about the murder. I figured you would’ve told Racquelle you thought it was a murder.”
“Why would I do that?” She kept walking, her breaths becoming a little heavy as she tried to outpace him.
“Why wouldn’t you?”
She threw him an exasperated glance, then stared ahead, speed walking to the end of the hallway. She snatched a purple parka off the line of hooks on the wall next to the lockers. “I wouldn’t mention that because I knew she would react exactly the way she did. That she would be afraid I’ll become involved in something that will damage CareFull’s reputation.” She swung the jacket behind her back and reached her hand toward one sleeve.
He grabbed the jacket and held it for her to insert her arms more easily.
But she froze. Turned to stare at him like he was a snowman who’d just come to life.
“What?” He lifted the outspread coat slightly to show she should put it on.
She slowly rotated forward again and slipped her arms into the sleeves. “Thank you.” Her soft words floated up to him as she moved closer to the parka…and him.
Her familiar scent tickled his nostrils. She still smelled like lilacs. Never had figured out if it was from a shampoo or perfume or was just…her.
He barely resisted the instinct to rest his hands on her shoulders as the jacket fell in place there. Taking advantage of the situation would only prove her shock right. So he hadn’t been the most chivalrous guy when they’d dated before. He hadn’t had anyone to teach him how or why to treat a lady that way. But she would see he had changed.
He cleared his throat and took a step back as she pivoted to him, zipping up her jacket so that it lightly skimmed the curves of her slim figure. He pulled his gaze up to her face. “Well, I only wanted to find out if there were any developments. If you talked to McCully again and got him to listen to you.”
She paused. Like she was trying to decide whether or not to admit something. “Yes, I did.”
Warmth pumped through him. She’d listened to him. Taken what she would think of as a big risk—daring a cop’s disapproval and anger—because Cillian had persuaded her to.
“And as I predicted, he still wouldn’t take the evidence seriously and became quite irritated with me.” She went to the lockers, taking a key from her pocket to unlock one. “I knew I shouldn’t have bothered him further.” She pulled out her purse and PT bag, which probably contained essential items she didn’t want to freeze if left in her car.
“What are you talking about? Of course you should have. And now you’ll need to go over his head.”
