Читать книгу Love By Association - Tara Taylor Quinn - Страница 16

CHAPTER SEVEN

COLIN WAS READY to take the tour and go. Julie’s gaze had bruised him a bit. His little sister was pissed at him for keeping Chantel’s publishing background from her. He’d known she would be. But if he’d told her right up front, she’d probably have refused to meet her with an open mind.

Ever since the rape, she’d been slowly becoming more closed-minded. Stubborn.

Could he be blamed for caring enough to try to help her?

And Chantel...maybe she’d be free to have dinner with him that night. Just the two of them...

As Leslie was concluding the business portion of the day, the outer door of the library sounded. Someone had just come in.

“Ladies and gentlemen, dessert has arrived,” Leslie said, smiling, as a couple of white-coated women came into the room, each carrying a large brown box. And right behind them was...Patricia Reynolds—Commissioner Paul Reynolds’s wife.

Colin stiffened. What in hell the police commissioner’s wife was doing there he didn’t know. And he wouldn’t have cared, if not for the fact that Julie was sitting just a few feet away from him.

This was why she didn’t go out much. To avoid unexpected appearances...

“Now that the catering decision has been made, I can tell you that Patricia Reynolds has volunteered to handle the catering details for the mystery gala. As you all know, her daughter and son-in-law own Beachside Catering and, to avoid a potential conflict of interest, Patricia didn’t want to take on her duties until our choice had been made.”

Patricia smiled, including everyone in her greeting. The woman gave endlessly to the community. Volunteering everyplace she could. Providing companionship and guidance through a youth program she’d helped develop to young women who’d gone astray. If not for the fact that she was married to a man who could be bought, Colin would have liked the woman.

“Regardless of who we chose, Beachside Catering was providing our dessert today. But now I can tell you that caterer C, your unanimous choice, is none other than Beachside Catering.” Leslie smiled as Patricia nodded toward the two women who were standing by a counter in the back of the room.

Crème de menthe parfaits were being passed around by the time Patricia settled into the empty seat at the end of the table between John and Colin, as far away from Julie as she could be while still being seated at the same table. Colin supposed Leslie was responsible for that.

But he had to wonder why the other woman had gone along with a plan to include Patricia on the committee at all. Leslie Morrison, the one person in their crowd who knew the details of Julie’s rape, was usually the one who ran interference for his sister, to avoid exactly the kind of situation they now faced.

Bad enough that Patricia was on the committee, but to have blindsided Julie...

He was going to have a word with Leslie.

Later.

* * *

CHANTEL HAD NEVER been in a home, free to wander in and out of every single room, as magnificent as the Estrada-mansion-turned-library. If she hadn’t been conscious of Colin’s time, and the fact that Julie didn’t seem to be feeling very well after lunch, she could have spent hours exploring the nooks and crannies of the place.

She couldn’t imagine ever living there, however. Seemed like a lonely existence to her, having so much space to separate family members. And the idea of having to dust the place...

Julie didn’t say much as they issued their farewells and made their way to Colin’s town car. She slid into the backseat before Chantel could offer to do so, forcing Chantel to sit up front with Colin.

Not a bad thing. Just a little awkward at the moment, considering that ever since he’d had his hand on her knee, she’d been half-turned-on.

She knew that when cops went under they had to do a lot of things to protect their cover—take drugs, even—but having sex for the sake of the job was not something she’d ever do. Or have the department expect her to do.

She’d be fine. She just needed a few minutes back in her own environment to process what had happened. She wanted out of the heels.

And to scrub her face. She remembered why she eschewed makeup. It made her skin itch.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to run Julie home first,” Colin said as he started the car. “I’m heading to the office, and the resort is in between.”

“That’s fine,” she said, and tried to ignore the tingle she felt at the realization that she was going to be completely alone with him for the first time.

Would he fill the time with small talk? Or try to get personal?

She needed him to get personal. To take the next step in making them an item. A temporary one. A spring fling.

Problem was, she wanted it, too...

“You okay with that?” Colin was looking in the rearview mirror, obviously addressing his sister.

“Of course,” Julie said and nothing else. Colin didn’t ask her if she felt okay or if anything was wrong. It wasn’t Chantel’s business, but...

“Did something at lunch not agree with you?” she asked, turning to look at the other woman. In her experience, guys didn’t always pick up on the obvious. And if Julie, who’d been so friendly earlier, was unwell, someone should notice.

“What?” Julie asked and then said, “Oh, I’m fine. I feel fine.”

Chantel didn’t need to be a cop to detect the lie. But she figured she’d been put in her place—a stranger who needed to mind her own business—and turned back around.

Colin glanced in the mirror again, his expression softening, but still said nothing.

He turned out into the street, drove half a mile and turned again. The silence in the car might not be bothering anyone else, but in Chantel’s world, it was weird—to have something lying there under the surface and not being addressed. But whatever. Must be how the rich and famous dealt with life.

Ignoring the messy parts.

Colin glanced in the rearview mirror again. For the fourth time.

“You want to come into the office with me?” Colin asked five minutes into the drive. “The preliminary child-life specialist contract should be drawn up. If you go over it today, we could have it vetted and ready to present as early as Monday.”

“Next Friday, as we originally agreed, is fine,” Julie said. “I’m not meeting with the Sunshine committee until then.”

Another couple of minutes passed. Chantel thought about chattering, except that she wasn’t a chatterer. There were questions she could ask about the ocean in the distance, the weather she could expect during spring in California, about places to eat and things to see. But when in Rome...and she definitely needed them to think she was in Rome.

“I’m fine, Colin.” The voice in the back of the seat didn’t sound sickly.

He glanced at his sister again.

“I really am.”

Another glance.

“I’m angry more than anything else.”

Okay, this probably wasn’t a conversation she needed to be hearing. Now that she knew Julie wasn’t coming down with food poisoning. Or the flu.

“I’m going to speak with Leslie.” Colin’s voice was firm. His jaw tight.

Chantel went high into cop mode. Why would Julie be angry with Leslie? What had she missed back there?

And to do with her subject?

“Why?” Julie’s question was sharp. “This has nothing to do with Leslie.”

“She should have given you a heads-up.”

“I never told her who he’d...” She broke off right when things were finally getting good.

Whether all eyes were on her or not, Chantel felt as though they were. In her world, she’d have turned around and asked what was going on. She’d have risked being told it was none of her business, but she’d have asked.

Her crash course in polite society hadn’t prepared her for this moment.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I feel as though I shouldn’t be here, and yet I can’t politely exit a moving car.” She spoke softly in character with Chantel Johnson, gentling her voice. But the Chantel Harris in her hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut.

“No, I’m sorry,” Julie told her. “I’ve behaved horribly, letting my personal feelings put a damper on what was a really nice afternoon...”

“Your personal feelings matter,” Chantel said. Just as Leslie Morrison’s personal feelings mattered. People got upset for good reason. “Clearly you need to speak with your brother...” And she needed to keep her mouth shut.

Colin had glanced in the mirror a couple more times but was otherwise driving with his attention seemingly on the road.

“It’s just... Patricia Reynolds...”

Not Leslie Morrison? Chantel waited.

“She’s following me.”

What?

“She’s not following you, Jules.” Colin was stopped at a light and turned toward his sister.

“Yes, she is, Colin. She’s the police commissioner’s wife,” Julie said to Chantel, who’d also turned around. Chantel continued to face backward as the light changed and Colin was driving once again.

She’d known, of course, exactly who the woman was. Knew, too, as soon as she’d appeared in the room, that the woman had made an excuse for joining the committee late so that she could watch over Chantel. Either to report back to the commissioner on how his undercover rookie was doing in case she was screwing up and he needed to intervene or to provide inside support in what was a very sensitive investigation.

A question she’d intended to ask Captain Reagan first thing Monday morning.

“You think the police commissioner’s wife is following you,” she said now. Curious.

“I know she is.”

And the obvious response to that, in any society, had to be, “Why?”

“I’m on four committees, and she’s managed to somehow be involved in all four projects.”

“Our circle isn’t all that big,” Colin said. “Patricia has been heavily involved in volunteer projects since before she married Paul. You know that.”

Paul. To him. Commissioner Reynolds to everyone in Chantel’s circle.

“Yes, but over the past several months, she’s joined each project I’m involved with, and they didn’t just all start up,” Julie said. “I know I’m right on this one, Colin. She’s spying on me.”

With a mental step back, Chantel faced front but had to ask again, “Why would she spy on you?”

It would be weird if she didn’t ask. Right?

“I was...involved...in something. Years ago. And recently, another woman we all know had a situation...something that came out through her son at school...and Patricia, I’m sure at Paul’s behest, is watching me.”

“Why?”

Colin glanced at her then. “They want her to stay quiet.”

“About what she was involved in years ago? Or what happened recently?”

“Nothing happened recently,” Colin said. “It was just a misunderstanding stemming from the wrong interpretation of a harmless school project. But Julie’s friends with the woman. She thinks that Commissioner Reynolds is nervous that she’ll try to bring up old grievances.”

“I know he is. And it’s not just that I’m friends with...the woman. The things they’re saying...there’s something in it similar to my situation. And we know mine is true.”

Colin didn’t respond to Julie’s remark. This time Chantel followed his lead.

Heart pumping, she made a mental note to check Julie Fairbanks again. She’d already run a check on the family, the night after she’d met Colin. But maybe she’d missed something?

She had to find a way to get Colin to explain to her why he didn’t have much faith in his sister’s judgment on the matter. And why the commissioner would send his wife to spy on her for being friends with someone.

Maybe, if she got lucky, he’d even tell her what the matter was.

In the meantime, she’d gained an important piece of information for her case. The woman Julie had just mentioned—the one who’d appeared to have a similar problem, but didn’t—had to be Leslie Morrison. Surely there weren’t two kids with school projects that had been interpreted to mean trouble in their admittedly small circle.

That would be too much of a coincidence. And as a cop, Chantel didn’t put a lot of stock in coincidence.