Page 4 of Shattered Dreams
“You’ll see when you meet her. There’s just something about her…” Then the nurse opened the door to the private room. “Mrs. Rodkin? I have an officer here who would like a moment or two of your time.”
“O-okay.” The soft sound barely reached his ears, before the nurse moved to the side and he got his first glimpse of the woman.
For the first time since the death of his wife, Deborah, he was overwhelmed by the urge to wrap a woman up in his arms. Barely five foot three with ivory skin and dark curls, she reminded him of a porcelain doll. Utter desperation was stamped across her face, while the bags under her blue eyes continued testifying to the trauma that she’d endured. He could absolutely see why the nurse was protective of her. He’d kill anyone who looked at her sideways.
The thought made him stumble. Why the hell was he having such a powerful reaction to another man’s wife?Shit.
“Officer?” She turned those bright cerulean eyes toward him, their impact like a punch to the gut. He wanted to see those eyes glazed with passion, to hear that voice beg prettily as he teased one moan after another out of her.
“Ah, Detective Elliot Landon.” He wanted to desperately tug at the collar of his dress shirt. This was absolutely ridiculous. He was here to do a job. Not lust over another man’s wife. “If it’s okay, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“I’m not sure what good it will do, but I’ll try to answer them.” She wrapped her delicate arms around her waist.
“That’s all I can ask for, Mrs. Rodkin.”
“Elizabeth, please. Or Lizzie if you’d rather,” she corrected. “Even after two years of marriage, I still can’t get used to the name.”
“Okay. Elizabeth.” He moved further into the room, noting the couch, small table and microwave. It was obviously one of the small staff lounges. “I know this is a rough time for you, so I’ll keep this short.” He took out his notebook. “Your husband is…”
“Maxwell Rodkin.” She sank down on the edge of the couch.
He scribbled the name down. “Age?”
“He’s just turned forty a couple months ago.”
“Same age as me.” He gave her a small smile. “And a very lucky man to have a wife such as yourself.”
“Flatterer,” she muttered softly.
“Never.” He shook his head, wondering what the fuck he was doing. “Sorry, that was inappropriate on my part, Mrs. Rodkin.”
She brushed it off. “No worries. What other questions do you have for me?”
“I’m assuming you weren’t with Maxwell this morning?”
“Max. And no, he went out to have brunch with his best friend and business partner. I wasn’t invited.”
“Not invited?” He frowned. “It was a business meeting?”
“Ah, no. Storm wanted to talk with him, where I wouldn’t overhear anything.”
* * *
Lizzie wanted to smack herself. She’d just stepped in it with her answer. She could see the questions lurking in the handsome detective’s eyes. It wasn’t like she was lying, but the truth had a rather nefarious ring to it, even though it was innocent for the most part. Master hadn’t wanted her to interfere or get angry if he found out that Storm was leading Rainy along. Her best friend/brother was one of her hot buttons. She was as protective as a momma bear when it came to him. So, Master had thought it would be prudent for her to stay home. And she’d agreed, rather reluctantly, at the risk of earning another ass-warming.
But how do I explain any of that without giving away intimate details of Master’s and my life?
“Really?” His brows furrowed, but instead of asking her to clarify, he changed the direction of his questioning. “What is it that your husband does for a living?”
She shifted a bit, happy that they were moving on to a less loaded question. “He’s a business owner. He owns a couple of high-end clubs here in Aurora.”
“The names?” He looked up from the notebook in his hand. “Today’s shooting, do you think it could be related to them?”
It’d been several years since she’d seen an actual spiral notebook. She knew they still made them, but it still seemed old-fashioned when most people just typed up something they wanted to remember on their cell phones. Then his questions registered. “Ah, I don’t know. I stay out of club business for the most part. Rainy would be a better person to ask. He’s the bookkeeper for both of them.”
“Names?” he prompted again. “And who’s Rainy and where would I be able to find him?”
“Oh, Redemption and the Grind.” She balled her hands into fists that she pressed into her lap. “And Raine Donovan is my bestie. You just missed him. But if you stick around, he’ll be back soon. He just ran back to the club for clean clothes and food.”
