Page 92 of Kiss of Deceit
“My knives were already used in a murder,” I said slowly. “You and I know I’m not the killer. But I can’t let suspicion fall on me. I can’t risk this internship. I need it.”
He didn’t question why. He only nodded. “Okay.”Okay? That was all? No prodding or questions? His gaze darted back to the counter. “You want me to get rid of them?”
A whirl of emotions smothered me. This man was offering to commit a crime for me. I probably shouldn’t find that as sweet as I did. At the same time, the back of my neck prickled with suspicion. Did he want to keep the knives as insurance on me?
“Or you take them,” he added when I didn’t respond. “I just…” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I want you to trust me. Would you have told me this if I hadn’t found the knives?”
“Probably not,” I answered, being honest for once. “But you did find them. And you covered for me. I do trust you, Kole.”
“No, you don’t.” His response was firm and resigned. “And I don’t blame you. But just so you’re aware, you don’t need to fight your demons alone.”
Tears pricked my eyelids before I could rein them in. Even with all the horrible things happening in this town, I was still happy to be here. Because of Kole.
“Go lay on the couch,” he ordered, turning around and opening a cupboard. “I’ll get you some food. You haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“I’m not very hungry?—”
“Just a snack then. I’ll bring it to you.”
The tone in his voice promised he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I made my way to the couch, wincing in pain when I sat down. I stretched my legs across the cushions as music began playing softly from the speakers when Kole turned on an album. The curtains were closed, and I stared at them, still in a daze from our conversation.
“The murderer was there last night,” I called out, pulling a blanket over me. “I didn’t lie about that. He was at the end of the bridge and disappeared when you called my name.”
Kole stopped making noise in the kitchen. “He’s coming after you.”
I bit my tongue, ice sliding down my spine. “You don’t know that.”
His footsteps came closer before he appeared at the end of the couch. He handed the bowl of chocolate ice cream to me and then moved to the other side. Once he lifted my legs, he satdown, letting my feet rest on his lap. I dug into my favorite ice cream until he spoke again.
“Danielle Hardin.” His voice was quiet as my birth name rolled off his tongue.
I froze, the spoon dropping back into the bowl. “What?”
“The internet might be slow here, but I can still look things up.” He began massaging my feet under the blanket. “All I searched was the name, Danielle and knife attack. I didn’t read any of the articles. That’s your past. Your life. But the picture that came up? Your hair was blonde then and you wore more makeup, but it’s you.”
My stomach tightened, my breath locked in my chest when he tilted his head to meet my dumbfounded stare. How long had he known?
“Changing your name was smart,” he said, the sympathy in his voice undeniable. “The number of articles showed it got national news. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
“It wasn’t,” I gritted out. “I haven’t gone by that name in twelve years.”
“Yet the killer knows it. How?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered, my heart beating rapidly. This entire conversation felt surreal. Kole just crashed into secrets he shouldn’t know. So why wasn’t I panicking?
Silence fell over us, the only sound was the music playing in the background. I glanced down at my melting ice cream, stirring it slowly.
“Want more?” he asked, nodding toward my bowl.
“It’s just as good like this,” I mumbled, glad to change the subject. “Did you bring this from your bar?”
He gave me a small grin, but the heaviness in his eyes revealed he was still thinking of our conversation. “I stocked our freezer.”
“You don’t get another shipment until the road opens again,” I reminded him. “You’re not going to have any left when people order it.”
“I took it off the menu a month ago.”
My eyes snapped to his. “I just had it the other night when I was there.”
