Page 39 of Wasted
He laughed. “They can’t arrest us if we don’t do anything illegal. You just said you own the house.”
“That’s not exactly what I said.”
“But it’s the truth. All we’re going to do is take a look inside and see if we can find more evidence.”
“The lieutenant told us to stay out of this, and so did Detective McCully. I’m going to listen to them, as I should have done in the first place.” She brushed past Cillian to head for her car two rows away in the parking lot.
“What about Thomas?” Cillian’s voice and his tall frame caught up with her infuriatingly quickly. “Are you just going to forget about him?”
“Of course not.” The heat of her irritation and brisk pace created a cloud in front of her mouth as she walked.
“Do you want his killer to get away with murdering him in cold blood?”
She didn’t answer. Cillian already knew she didn’t want that. But she also didn’t want to rub the wrong people the wrong way. “It’s better to be patient with people like this. I can likely convince them, in time, if we don’t keep angering them.”
“Time is not a luxury we have with murder. We need to act as quickly as possible before the killer or killers have a chance to cover up their tracks or disappear.”
She threw him a glance. Where did he learn these things? But he wasn’t wrong. At least as far as she knew.
She slowed as she passed his motorcycle parked in the stall next to her car.
“Look, I know Thomas was a friend. Someone special.”
Victoria stopped by her car, reluctantly facing Cillian as his tone softened. She should duck into her car before he really turned on the charm.
“I know how much you care about people. You want justice for Thomas. I know that.”
She met Cillian’s intense gaze. “Of course I do.”
“Then come with me to his house tonight, and let’s find the evidence that will catch his killer. Let’s do it for Thomas.”
For Thomas. The memory of his face the last time she’d spoken with him, the uncharacteristic fear in his eyes, blocked her vision. He’d wanted her help. He had trusted her when he couldn’t trust anyone else. She couldn’t fail him now. She owed him that much, at least.
She took in a deep breath of cold air. “You’re right. Thomas would want me to find his killer.” She looked up to see Cillian’s grin.
His very handsome, annoying grin.
She resisted the urge to smile in return. “But not now. I have patients to see.” One of which she’d already pushed until later in the day thanks to Cillian’s insistence that they immediately report the threatening note.
“Of course. So do I.” His mouth straightened, an attempt to appear sober, but his eyes still twinkled with mischief.
“I can meet you there this evening.”
He thumbed to his motorcycle behind him. “Sure you don’t want me to pick you up on the bike?”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
The grin returned. “All right. I’ll meet you there.”
“Eight thirty sharp.” That would give her time to feed Max at home and complete some documenting first.
“Yes, ma’am.” The words and that irresistible grin sent a shiver up her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
Why did she feel as if she’d agreed to a date with her high school crush?
She slipped behind the wheel of her car and resisted looking at Cillian as she peeled away. She would need to figure out how to deal with him, since it seemed he wasn’t going away anytime soon. And since, for some reason, that idea was starting not to bother her like it should.
But one challenge at a time. Tonight, perhaps, she could help the friend who had apparently given her everything he valued in life. A life that someone had taken from him.
