Everywhere She Turns (45 page)

Edward stormed to the stairs. His movements as he descended were stilted, angry.

She’d never seen him angry. Certainly not like this.

Just go back to your room, CJ. This is none of your business
. She was being ridiculous. Hiding like this was childish. What would Edward think if he saw her?

Obviously he was all right. There could be something going on in his life that she didn’t know about. He had been terribly upset by the meeting he’d attended.

She inched around the column, keeping an eye out for Edward to come stamping back up the stairs. As she stepped past the open doorway, a glimpse of Edward’s suite snagged her attention. The walls were pink—soft, soft pink.

He liked pink? It was her favorite color, but she’d never known he cared for it. He was far too traditional for that.

She took a step into his private domain. Then another. The more she saw the more she had to keep looking.

The room was enormous. A massive canopy bed with sleek linens. More pastel colors. Fresh flowers all around the room. Four . . . five . . . six vases. The room was beautiful, but extraordinarily feminine.

So maybe Edward had a feminine side. A lot of men did.

Or maybe . . .

Oh, God
.

This could be his mother’s room. The flowers could be some sort of tribute to her. He rarely spoke of his mother, but when he did there was such reverence . . .

CJ shouldn’t be in here.

She wheeled around, put one foot forward, and halted.

Edward stood in the doorway.

“I’m sorry.” She glanced around the room. “It’s a beautiful
room, but I shouldn’t have come in here uninvited. I am so, so sorry.”

He stared at her. Just stared. The tiny healing wound from the bump on the head he’d gotten in the fire reminded her he’d almost lost his life helping her.

She swallowed. The chocolate suddenly tasted bitter in her mouth. She shouldn’t have spied on him like this. “Is everything okay?” Like her, he had no family left. That he still paid such tribute to his mother was likely a very private matter to him. He wouldn’t want CJ intruding like this.

“I’m glad you like it.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He no longer wore the black tee and jeans. He’d changed into the usual gray trousers and a crisp white shirt.

She nodded. Looked around again. “And the flowers are gorgeous.”

“They came from my garden.”

“Wow.”

He stepped into the room, surveying it himself as if for the first time. “I hoped you would like all the little touches. I took great pains in selecting each one.”

She gripped the bowl of ice cream, nodded. She could not recall a time when she’d ever been this embarrassed or felt this awkward in his presence.

“Seeing you here,” he said, “completes the room. Makes everything perfect.”

She tried to force her lips into a smile, but what he said made no sense. “Thank you.” Okay, it wasn’t the right thing to say, but it seemed like what he expected.

“I’ve waited a very long time, CJ.”

He came closer as he spoke.

Now she didn’t know what to say. This felt wrong.

“I’ve watched you since you were just a girl. Waited. No matter the stumbling blocks thrown in our path, I never gave up.”

Now she was seriously worried. He wasn’t himself. The things he was saying were out of character. Maybe that knock on his head had shaken him more than either of them realized.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Edward?” She tried to think how to explain her worry, but no words came.

“As you can see, there’s no reason for you to be sad about having lost everything when the house burned,” he went on as if she’d said nothing. “I had already taken the things you cherished the most for safekeeping.”

As if his words had provided the necessary coordinates, she turned to the shelves that lined one wall, zeroed in on the framed photographs there.

The bowl in her hand hit the floor and bounced quietly on the carpet, sending chocolate drops splattering over her feet and the carpet.

She was moving toward the shelves, her movements on automatic pilot. She picked up first one, then another. Her and Shelley as kids. Teenagers. Even the one recent photo they had taken last Christmas.

“How . . . ?” She turned to Edward, the precious photo in her hand. “I don’t understand.”

“I knew you would want those near you.”

But . . . how would he think she needed them
here
? And when had he taken them? The house had burned yesterday—day before yesterday.

“The house was falling apart. You no longer needed that burden.”

“You . . .” He couldn’t have set the fire—they were both inside. He wouldn’t have taken that risk . . . would he?

“Our time has finally come, CJ.” He reached out, caressed her cheek. “Nothing stands in our way now.”

“I don’t understand.” Warning bells were going off inside her head. “In our way of what?”

“Of spending the rest of our lives together,” he explained. “I’ve waited. Groomed you. Prepared you to be the perfect bride. You’ve almost completed your residency.” He smiled. “Close enough. There’s no need to wait any longer.”

“I’m sorry.” She backed away from his touch. “I don’t understand what’s going on here. This isn’t your mother’s room?” Her instincts were screaming at her to run. His words kept
echoing in her head. Denial had swaddled her instincts. She couldn’t think how to react. This couldn’t be.

He laughed softly. “Of course not. This is
our
room.”

All the times he’d been there for her, encouraged her, helped her to attain a goal, she’d counted herself lucky to have such a wonderful friend.

He hadn’t wanted her to be his friend . . . ?

“Edward, I admire and respect you.” She eased back another step. “I adore you. But like a father. Not like . . . that.”

“I’m prepared to wait. You’ll come to feel a physical attraction for me in time. I understand that you have needs. I overheard you and . . . Detective Braddock. But he is not the one for you. I am.”

He’d heard them making love? Okay, this was way, way crazy. What he was proposing was surreal. “Edward—”

He held up a hand. “You don’t have to say anything now. I know this is all a bit of a shock for you. But you’ll see. Everything I’ve done has been for the best. I’ve always known what was best for you.”

Fear, slithering and threatening, snaked its way up her spine. “What do you mean,
everything you’ve done
?”

“Sometimes the people we love hold us back. Sacrifices have to be made.”

She stared at him, her heart refusing to believe what her brain was telling her. “What sacrifices?”

815 Wheeler Avenue, HPD 3:10
AM

“I’m not talking until my attorney is present.”

Braddock stalked back and forth in front of the interview table.

Cooper leaned across the table, glaring at Jenkins. “Listen, you little piece of shit, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll start talking now.”

Jenkins moved his head side to side. “No way.”

They’d put off allowing his call to an attorney in hopes of getting the truth out of him. The little bastard wasn’t budging. Considering he didn’t have a fucking clue what was happening, Braddock couldn’t waste any more time. Every minute that passed allowed for the unexpected. He couldn’t risk waiting this bastard out.

Braddock glanced at Cooper. “Go have a smoke.”

She straightened, looked at her partner. “I quit smoking.”

“Then go take a piss,” he growled.

“Look.” She turned to him. “This is one of those moments, Braddock. I’m your partner—you can’t go doing stupid shit without me.”

“Out,” he ordered.

She looked from him to Jenkins, heaved a frustrated sigh, and walked out. Slammed the door.

Jenkins licked his lips, shifted as best he could considering his skinny ass was shackled to the chair. “You fucking touch me and I’ll file charges, Braddock. The chief, the mayor . . . they’re all watching this case. You can’t fuck this up.”

Braddock walked around behind him. He no longer felt angry or frustrated. He just wanted to tear this little fucker’s head off. He grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. “Don’t worry, the only thing I’m going to fuck up is you.” Then he rammed the muzzle of his service revolver against Jenkins’s temple. “Now talk.”

Jenkins screamed.

Braddock released the safety on his weapon. The click resonated in the room.

“Okay! Okay!” Jenkins wailed. “It wasn’t Nash. He killed Celeste, but he didn’t kill the others.”

“And how would you know this?” Fury pounded once more in Braddock’s temples.

“Because . . .” Jenkins’s eyes were wild with fear and something else Braddock couldn’t label. “Because I was his lover. He confided in me!” Jenkins sobbed. “Told me everything.”

“And you”—Braddock twisted his hair, garnering a yelp—“were his snitch.”

“Yes! Yes! Please . . . please don’t kill me.”

“Is there a video?”

“Yes.” Jenkins dragged in a quavering breath. “Yes,” he whimpered. “I know where it’s at. I can take you to it.”

4:50
AM

The screen flickered and images came into view.

Braddock had accompanied Jenkins to where Nash’s SUV had been towed by the forensic folks and retrieved the video from its hiding place. By the time they got back to the station the whole fucking world was standing by, casting accusatory looks at Braddock.

Like he gave a shit. He’d done what he had to do.

He and Cooper sat up straighter as images came into focus on the screen.

“You will do it!”
Cost screamed at Shelley.

“Rewind it,” Braddock ordered. His body literally shook with the anticipation now.

“Rewind.” Cooper pressed the necessary button and the whir of the tape sounded. A click indicated it was back at the beginning. Cooper pressed play.

Shelley opened the front door and Cost stormed in.

“Fast-forward,” Braddock ordered. “Do it slow, where we can see what’s happening.”

“Forward search,” Cooper said as she pressed another button.

Braddock’s heart threatened to burst out of his chest as he watched the altercation between Cost and Shelley play out without the sound effects. Finally the bastard stormed out the door. Shelley leaned against it and cried.

His heart ached for what this would do to CJ if she saw it.

The images faded to black.
What the hell?
There had to be more than that.

The screen flickered and Shelley was opening the door again. “Hit play,” Braddock ordered.

Cooper hit play.

“What do you want?”

Edward Abbott stepped into view.

“What the fuck?” Braddock muttered.

“You made the first move, Shelley,” Abbott said. “This is your game. What do
you
want?”

Shelley went toe-to-toe with the man and stuck her finger in his face. “I want you to stay away from my sister. I know what you’re up to, and if you don’t back off, I’m going to tell her about the cameras . . . about everything! Then she won’t ever have anything to do with you again.”

Abbott stared at her a moment. “Your whole life you’ve done nothing but try to hurt your sister. You’re the one who needs to stay away from her.”

“Who do you think you are?” she demanded. “You’re nothing but a pervert. CJ’s never going to love you. When I tell her, she’ll see the truth. You’re crazy.”

Abbott grabbed her by the throat. “You will not”—he shook
her harder, squeezed her throat harder with every word—“tell her. If you do—”

Shelley ripped away from him, raced out the still-open door.

Abbott went after her.

A half minute turned to one and no one reappeared on the screen. The house remained empty. No sound. No nothing.

“Forward search again.” Braddock couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be what he thought.

He didn’t know how many minutes elapsed. Suddenly Abbott appeared. Alone. He looked around the living room, then walked out of the house and closed the door.

Cooper turned to Braddock. “It was Abbott.”

Braddock grabbed his keys from his desk and ran for the exit. He’d failed again.

He’d ordered CJ to stay put . . . with the killer.

904 Williams Street, 3:22
AM

“I only did what was necessary,” Edward assured CJ.

This couldn’t be happening.

Couldn’t be real.