Her Destiny (11 page)

More than I can say about my own parents.

“Reverie?”

I glance up at the sound of Elaine’s voice to find her standing in the doorway of the kitchen, her shoulder propping the swing door open, her expression grave. “What’s up?” I ask with a feigned sort of cheerfulness that rings false to my ears.

“There’s someone here to see you. He’s waiting at the front.”

Fear settles in my stomach and I stand, smoothing my hands down the front of my shirt. “Who is it? I need to get back on the floor since my break is up.”

“You can go over your break, I won’t dock you.” She smiles but it’s as false as my supposedly happy tone. I notice she didn’t answer my question about who’s waiting for me either.

With heavy footsteps I exit the kitchen and head toward the front of the restaurant, my heart racing so hard the sound is roaring in my ears. Frank sends me a sympathetic glance as I pass by him and focus my gaze on the hostess stand, where I see a tall man standing in front of the counter. He’s wearing a uniform.

He’s a police officer.

I flash him a polite smile as I stop beside the hostess stand, clutching my hands in front of me.

“Are you Reverie Hale?” He already knows I am, I can tell. Wariness fills me and I wish I could run but I don’t.

Instead I nod, not saying a word. Good lord, it’s finally happened. The cops are here to talk to me about my parents. What do I say to this man? I don’t want to protect my mom and dad but I can’t lie either. Not that I know much since everyone kept me in the dark.

“I’m Detective Jacoby—how are you.” He reaches out, offering his hand and I take it, startled by the firm pump he gives my arm before he lets my hand drop. “I need to talk to you about Nicholas Fairfield.”

Blinking, I take a step back, startled at the mention of Nick’s name. That’s the last thing I expected to hear. “Oh. Um, I don’t know how I can help you…”

“You seen him lately?” He interrupts, his penetrating stare locked right on me and I look away, instantly uneasy. “Don’t lie to protect him, little lady. I know he’s come around here looking for you.”

“Then why did you ask if I’ve seen him since you already knew?” Irritation replaces my fear. I don’t like him calling me little lady. And I don’t like the idea of this mom spying on me either. Standing up taller, I lift my chin and say, “He did come around but we didn’t really talk.”

He raises a skeptical brow. I’d estimate Detective Jacoby is around Dad’s age, shorter and with a paunch around his middle. He’s watching me like a hawk, looking down the slope of his large nose as if he’s waiting for me to slip up. I’ve got nothing to hide from this man. “From what I understand you two were involved.”

How in the world would he know that? Who told him? Nick? “Not any longer,” I say.

“Strange that he’d come all the way here last night and you wouldn’t talk to him.”

“We’re not together anymore. I told him that and sent him away.”

“Uh huh. Bet he got real mad after all that driving when you told him to take a hike.” He shoves his hands in his front pockets and leans back on his heels, contemplating me. I watch him in return, not about to back down. I don’t like this man and I’m usually accepting of everyone. But after being tricked for so many years, I’ve come to trust no one.

I hardly trust myself, or my instincts.

“He wasn’t mad.” Sad and disappointed and shocked, oh yes. I can’t get rid of the vision of him staring at me when I got on the bus. I know he couldn’t believe I walked away from him.

I still can’t believe I did either.

“You sure about that? Fairfield has a bit of a temper.”

This detective is trying to bait me or scare me, I’m not sure which. “Nicholas Fairfield is the most giving, sweetest person I’ve ever met. If he has a temper, he’s never shown it around me.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky then.”

Sniffing, I back away from him, my butt colliding with the hostess stand. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“I’m not implying anything, sweetheart. What’s throwing me off is you saying you didn’t talk to your boyfriend when he came to see you last night. I’m finding it hard to believe.”

“I’m telling the truth.” My voice rises but I can’t seem to care despite my being at work. I’ve had it with this guy. My newfound rebellious streak decides to show itself. Authority figures don’t scare me. “He tried to stop me when I left work and then again at my apartment but I refused to talk to him. I went inside and haven’t seen him since. We’re not together anymore. We haven’t been since I came back here at the end of summer.” It’s the truth, no matter how hard it is to say it.

“So you live in an apartment? Where are your parents?” He changes the subject, his tone innocent enough but I see right through him.

Jerk. If he knows as much as he’s letting on about Nick then he must know all about me. “I live with my older brother.”

“Right. Evander Hale.” He pushes his sleeve up to check his watch before he settles his gaze on me. “He’s part of a murder investigation you know. Your boyfriend.”

Krista. Of course, I know. “He didn’t do it,” I say firmly.

“How can you be so sure?”

Pausing, I press my lips together, contemplating what I should say next. The truth would be good, right? It’s the least I can do. I refuse to be dishonest like Mom and Dad. Lies are destructive and the more you tell them, the bigger they grow. What my parents did, how many people they hurt, I can’t change what they did. I can’t take their actions back and make everything right again. It’s too late.

But it’s not too late for Nick. I can defend him. I can tell the truth and get the police off his back once and for all.

“I’m one hundred percent sure because the night of the murder you’re talking about?” I swallow hard before I blurt out, “Nicholas Fairfield was with me.”

November 13th, later that night

W
atching that jackass cop exit the restaurant where Reverie works just about does me in. Frustration threatens to overwhelm and I tell myself to get a grip but it’s damn hard. I thought it was over. I thought they were letting me be because they had no evidence against me but clearly I’m wrong. That asshole followed me here and actually went in to her work to speak to Reverie. About me.

I leave her alone so I can’t hurt her any longer and it works. The minute I come near her again, I bring trouble with me. If she refused to talk to me before, she’ll probably try and call the cops on me now. Not that I can blame her.

I’m so pissed I want to break that freaking detective’s smug face with my fist. But that would be about the stupidest thing I could ever do so I lie in wait, sitting in my truck in the parking lot across the street from the restaurant. How I missed him walking in there I have no clue but there’s no telling what he might’ve said to Reverie.

There’s no telling what Reverie might have said to him either. Not that she’d chuck me or make up lies about me because I’ve never been anything but honest with her. I just…I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t like it.

The detective—I think his name is Jacoby—glances in the exact direction of where my truck is parked and I sink low in my seat, my head barely above the steering wheel I’m slumped so low. He stares hard into the darkness, looking right at me before he starts walking, headed straight in the direction of where I’m parked.

I slouch further but it’s no use. He’s coming for me, stops right by the driver’s door and raps his knuckles on the window. “Open up, Fairfield.”

Reluctantly I reach out and roll down the window, bracing myself against the brisk gust of air that blows inside my truck. “You’re following me.”

Jacoby doesn’t bother to deny it. “We thought it was odd, that you were leaving town.”

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me this entire time?” How’d I miss them trailing me? I got lazy I guess.

He doesn’t answer. “Spoke to your girlfriend. Though she denied being your girl.”

His words probe under my skin, dig at nerves. “Leave her out of this.”

“Seems like she’s the whole reason you came here though, right? I mean, it’s not like you to took a joy ride to Los Angeles. That’s pretty far to go, costs a lot of money in gas. Money you don’t really have. And then she rejects you? Man, that’s gotta be tough.” He slowly shakes his head and makes a tsking noise.

I sit up in my seat, clenching my hands into fists. Trying to provoke me and get a reaction, see if I’ll say or do something stupid. All cops are assholes. I contemplated being one and then told myself to snap the fuck out of it. “There’s nothing you need to ask her so leave her alone,” I mutter.

“There’s plenty to ask her. Hell, if all goes as planned, she’s going to be coming to the station Sunday morning so we can go over the events of the night your ex was murdered.” He says the words so casually, like no big deal, but they explode like tiny bombs in my brain, giving me a headache.

“Why are you questioning her about Krista’s murder?” I did my best to protect her and keep her out of the investigation. Yeah, Reverie is my alibi and I wouldn’t have to deal with half this shit if I’d come out from the start and told the truth about my being with Reverie that night but I did it to protect her. She didn’t need to deal with my shit. She had enough to handle already. “I’ve told you before she knows nothing.”

“She said otherwise.”

Shit. Closing my eyes, I thunk the back of my head against the headrest, wishing I could take back what Jacoby just told me. “What are you talking about?”

“Your little girlfriend finally came clean with me. Don’t understand why you’re so upset, considering her statement is going to get you off the hook. That is, if she’s telling the truth. Why you’ve been hiding this for so long, I have no idea, but considering you’re not the brightest bulb in the light socket, there’s no explaining what you do or why you do it.”

I practically growl with frustration. I’m so over cops and their attitudes. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a complete asshole?”

Jacoby grins, looking strangely pleased. “All the damn time.”

I don’t doubt that for a second.