Page 17 of Assassin's Prey
Easier, maybe, but not safer. She might deserve a man like him, but she wasn’t going to get one.
“Of course,” he said, his gaze sliding to me as he reached for his phone. Not quite meeting my eyes. He knew a predator when he saw one.
We waited a few minutes before Bryant came to collect us. Following him to his office was a walk through the Twilight Zone—a sense of unreality, like this just couldn’t be happening. I hadn’t felt that way as a child, too scared of what Amos would do to me. To my brothers. I’d walked in on the man with his gun raised, pointed at my dead parents on their bloody bed. When he’d swung that gun toward me, I’d thought I would die. Almost wanted to.
But Remi and Eli had needed me. And Amos had needed a witness to corroborate his story—an intruder in the million-dollar mansion, motive unknown.
Even as a child I’d known Amos would only need us for so long. Then we’d be as dead as my parents.
“I tell ya,” Bryant said as he escorted us into his office, “I can’t get over the déjà vu here.”
No joke.
I gave Bryant what he was expecting, clearing my throat of the gravel that had built up on the long walk through the halls. “Yeah, this is not something I ever expected to relive.”
“I imagine not.” The man’s gaze was hardened by years of seeing the worst in life, much like mine was, but not without a touch of sympathy. “I’ve never forgotten your parents’ case; I hope you know that. Never regretted not finding a perp more.”
I nodded abruptly. “You said you needed to follow up on some things from last night?”
Bryant eyed me a half minute more before turning his attention to the open file on his desk. “Of course.” He folded his hands on the scarred wooden surface, leaning forward. “You said you arrived at the house shortly before the incident, is that correct?”
I relaxed into my chair, letting the focus fall to Abby.
“We did. Maybe ten minutes before?” She glanced at me. I nodded.
“And you parked in the garage.” Bryant looked at the papers under his hands.
“Yes. My car was already there, but we pulled Levi’s SUV in as well.”
I was still pissed over losing the vehicle. Not that I couldn’t replace it; I could, five times over, without blinking an eye. Death paid big-time. It was the principle of it—any loss came far too close to Abby.
Who continued to answer questions, even as she shifted in her seat, crossing her legs. Bryant might’ve thought she was uncomfortable with him, but I knew better. Her feet didn’t touch the floor; she was uncomfortable in the chair. My little bird.
I couldn’t believe I actually knew enough about a woman to realize that she was too short for a seat. Or to care that she was uncomfortable, but my first instinct was to find her somewhere else to sit. The blend of surprise and satisfaction that accompanied the knowledge was far more pleasurable than the sweat-inducing memories that had filled my head minutes ago.
“Anyone watching the house would’ve seen you arrive,” Bryant said thoughtfully.
“Of course.” Abby’s tone said she was confused about the detective’s focus. So was I.
“What are you thinking, Bryant?” I asked gruffly.
He picked up a slender silver pen from his desk and tapped the end on the papers.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“I’m thinking, why would someone attack, knowing a big, scary guy like you was around? Why not wait till Ms. Roslyn was alone, unprotected?”
Damn it, he was right. My presence should’ve been a deterrent. Mine and Remi’s? No one should’ve come within a hundred yards of the place. And I knew they would’ve seen us both through the windows.
It made no sense.
Abby was looking between the two of us, still confused. Without thinking I reached for her hand, hating the way it trembled in mine.
“I know you were young when your parents died,” Bryant said, “but I’m assuming since your uncle’s death that you’re aware of the contents of your father’s will.”
What did that have to do with anything? “My uncle was a bastard, Bryant. He shipped us off to boarding school the second he could.” Or at least that’s the story he used, as I found out later. “When I was finally able to, I made sure my brothers and I were as far away from him as we could possibly get. And never looked back.”
“Shame.” Bryant tapped some more. “Your uncle was also murdered. Also unsolved. Unusual in the same family. But I did some digging.” He shuffled aside some of the papers until he found what he was looking for. “It appears your father’s will stated that everything be held in trust for his children. If his wife also died, his brother was to be the executor of the will.”
