Page 28 of Roark
Her response was to laugh, and Roark shook his head because despite what she was laughing at, he adored the sound. There were a few things he really liked about Tamika, things he’d noted more than once during their short acquaintance. She was tenacious, which initially he’d thought would be a problem, because he hadn’t considered the reason she’d tracked him down had any merit. Loyalty, which was a huge thing for Roark, was obviously a big thing for her as well. No matter how many times he asked, or even when Pierce had hinted at it earlier today at the cottage, she held firm that her father hadn’t been cheating on her mother. Some might see that as naïveté or flat-out denial, but Roark saw it as her dedication to the man she’d known and loved. Similar to the way he remained committed to his parents and their legacy. And then there was her laugh and her smile—they both came quick and it genuinely and equally touched him in a way he’d never experienced before.
“I don’t generally talk about sex as much as we’re doing,” he admitted. “It seems a little odd.”
“I think it’s best to talk about sex. State what you like and don’t like so you’ll be sure to get what you want.”
“Have you ever not gotten what you wanted out of sex?”
Her instant silence was as big a tell as if she’d immediately poured out the detail of a horrific sexual escapade. When he looked over at her, it was to see that she was staring out the window. They were closer to the manor now, the car moving down the cobblestone roads just outside the property. While the hills and countryside were the backdrop, nestled in this area were what could be called quaint little stores and houses with thick wood doors and matching window boxes full of flowers. “I haven’t always gotten what I want out of a lot of things. And eventually, I learned I needed to speak up for myself more.”
“I can’t imagine you ever not speaking up for yourself.” But obviously there’d been a time, and his callous remark had probably just ensured she’d never tell him of that time.
He wisely remained silent for the duration of the ride, and she continued to stare out the window, lost deep in the thoughts of whatever had happened that had caused her to change. Roark hadn’t considered how much he’d want to know more about this woman, but by the time they pulled up in front of the clubhouse, he’d decided she was definitely more intriguing than he’d first thought.
He stepped out of the car and wasn’t the least bit surprised that she hadn’t waited for him to come around and open the door for her. They were both walking up the front steps when the door opened and Geoff stepped out.
“They wanted to wait, sir, and I thought it best they not wait at the manor, as there are many eyes and ears there.”
For a moment, Roark had no idea what the guy was talking about, but then he followed Geoff’s gaze to the parking spaces at the side of the house and frowned. An official MPD vehicle was in the first spot.
Tamika obviously followed Geoff’s gaze as well and sighed. “I was wondering when they’d show up. I mean, they weren’t at the hospital last night, and they should’ve been.”
But they shouldn’t have been here. They shouldn’t have known that she was staying with him, unless they’d been watching them.
Roark gave Geoff a nod. “You did the right thing. We’ll speak with them. Call Ed Burrows and let him know they’re here.” He didn’t bother to tell Geoff that Ed was his attorney, since the concierge knew everything there was to know about him already.
“Yes, sir. I put them in the parlor and gave them drinks—water, of course. They’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.” Geoff spoke as he turned and went back into the house. Roark let Tamika go in ahead of him. “They’re determined to talk then.”
“Determined to accuse me is probably more like it.” Her tone was somber and Roark didn’t like it.
There were two of them, both sitting on a floral-print couch in a room that had far too much floral print for Roark’s taste. They both wore stoic black suits, white shirts, slim ties and a look of skepticism and mild contempt the moment Roark and Tamika walked in.
“Mr. Donovan, we meet again.” Donald Gibbons stood and met Roark’s gaze.
“Forgive me if I skip the formalities and ask why you’re here. I believe the last time we spoke, I directed you to my attorney with any further questions.” Roark had no intention of making this easy for either of the policemen. He didn’t like that they’d come here, nor did he like the way they were looking from him to Tamika as if they already had everything figured out.
“I’m Detective Horace Pennington from the Metropolitan Police Department. I was on the scene at yesterday’s fire. I believe that was at the home owned by your mother, Ms. Rayder.” The shorter of the two, Pennington was going bald in the center and had bushy eyebrows. Under Roark’s severe gaze, the man smoothed down his tie and cleared his throat.
Roark directed Tamika to a spot on the loveseat across from where the detectives sat. Gibbons returned to his seat and Roark sat down beside Tamika. They might’ve looked like old friends having a visit. And cows might fly.
“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, Ms. Rayder. I’m Detective Donald Gibbons. I work for MPD as well, but I’m from the Major Investigation Unit. I’m sure Mr. Donovan has mentioned speaking to me before.”
“He hasn’t.” Her tone was even, her gaze distrustful. “We’re not in the habit of discussing policemen.”
“Well, it’s a shame to be having this conversation.” Pennington interrupted. “But there are some questions I need to ask about yesterday’s fire.”
“Why are you here?” Roark asked Gibbons directly.
The man had the audacity to smile. “I want to hear the answers to those questions.”
Pennington cleared his throat. “Ms. Rayder, you just arrived in Painswick, correct?”
“I came to visit my mother and I’ve been here for a week.” She was calmer than Roark would’ve expected, but then, she was probably used to talking with police and other firefighters in her line of work.
Pennington pulled out a notepad and pen and began scribbling something. Gibbons kept his gaze on Roark, and Roark resisted the urge to punch the guy in the face. “Your mother and father own that house. It’s normally a rental, but I see your mother made it her permanent residence about a year ago.” Pennington looked up at her and waited for her response.
She nodded. “Yes, that’s true.”
“But this is the first time you’ve visited?” he pressed.
