Page 32 of Rain Washed

“Who am I to stop you?” Nico held his hands in the air in mock surrender. Then he waited patiently as she piled her plate high with salad, dip, and even the fruit salad because she couldn’t wait to taste it all, and he followed suit. “What was your impression of the first guy we interviewed?” he asked using his detective voice.

“You mean, Creepy Mike?”

Nico threw his head back and laughed, and Lacey was momentarily entranced by his strong, tanned neck, finding herself wanting to run her tongue down his skin, lick off all that salty sweat, and bury her teeth in the muscles at the side. She stuffed a piece of potato in her mouth instead.

“I’m not sure that’s politically correct,” Nico declared. “But let’s call him Creepy Mike for now.”

“How do guys like that even end up coaching in a gymnastics club?” Lacey asked after swallowing the potato. “It should be obvious to everyone what a weasel he is. The way he talked about the other female coaches. Ugh.” She screwed up her face at the contemptuous little man. It’d been damn near impossible for her to keep her face impassive as they’d interviewed him. Only her cop training and her desire not to give away that she was onto him, allowed her to keep up her blank stare.

“I agree. But—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Lacey replied. “You can’t judge a person’s ability to commit murder on their repellent personality.” Of course, she knew all that, had heard it a million times before. Had it drummed into her throughout her probation. But some people just got under her skin.

“But, I’ve asked Sally-Ann to take a better look at Mike. Do a background check, see if he rings any alarm bells.”

“Oh, right. That’s good,” Lacey amended. “He didn’t seem to really remember Sukey, though,” Lacey mused, thinking back to yesterday. It was as if Zoya had always been the apple of his eye, even back then. “Do we think he could be a suspect? He did have an unhealthy infatuation with Zoya. But is that enough of a motive? Did they have some kind of lover’s tiff? Or did she reject him and he took it badly?” she asked, picking up a whole strawberry and popping it in her mouth, letting the fruit explode on her tongue with its tart sweetness. “And if he did murder Zoya, how does Sukey fit into the scenario? She was killed first. Which is odd if this was a crime of passion. We know there was a connection with the girls from four years ago. But Sukey’s parents seem to think they had a falling out. Did they perhaps maintain that friendship without anyone knowing?” Lacey raised her shoulders in a shrug, battling with the million and one questions she had regarding the triangle of Zoya, Sukey, and Mike.

“It’s an interesting puzzle,” Nico agreed. He didn’t add any of his own insights, and so Lacey assumed she’d already voiced most of his own concerns. He’d pored over the notes all night long, so if he’d come up with anything else, she assumed he would’ve shared them by now.

“What about the rest of the staff? Any gut reactions to them?” he asked, tipping the bottle of wine in her direction, asking silently if she wanted a refill. She nodded and held up her glass.

“You mean, apart from Erica?” Lacey asked with a semiserious tilt to her mouth. That lady was another piece of work. Nico and Lacey had interviewed six other staff members yesterday, including the very helpful receptionist, Claire. No one else had pinged her radar like Mike and Erica had. That didn’t mean they were capable of killing a colleague, but you had to narrow the suspect list down somehow.

“Gorman’s already looked deeper into her background,” Nico consented. “Apart from the child abuse claims you uncovered—and the text messages we still need to get to the bottom of—it seems she has a clean record. She might be a hard taskmaster and her training techniques might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but her gymnasium is supposedly the best around, possibly in the whole state, and most people consider her a pillar in society.”

“Hmph,” Lacey replied. “She’s a bully. And I hate bullies.” It was good Nico understood her, so she could talk openly about her thoughts on their suspects like this with him. Her kind of frank opinions would not be as welcome in the station where the rest of the team could hear. “And now we might have found a possible motive for murder. I’ve gone over and over in my head wondering what Zoya was messaging Erica about,” she continued. “You need to get Erica back in and interview her.”

“Aye, aye, boss.” Nico raised his hand to his brow in a mock salute. Then when she frowned at him, he said, “She’s coming in tomorrow morning. And bringing her lawyer,” he added. “We’ll get to the bottom of those messages. And if she still refuses to answer, I might have grounds to arrest her.”

“Good,” she replied. “I wouldn’t put it past that woman to murder one of her employees and an ex-student because of something they knew about her club. Maybe Zoya was blackmailing her. Maybe both Zoya and Sukey were blackmailing her. Or maybe she was having a secret affair with one of them. Or both of them. Maybe she molested them when they were still children at the club and now they’ve come forward and threatened to tell all. Hell, maybe—”

“Whoa, tiger.” Nico held up his hand. “I know we’re doing some speculating here, but let’s not get too carried away.”

“Right,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the scowl at her wayward thoughts of Erica off her face. She lifted her glass to her lips and was surprised to find it empty, but she didn’t feel even slightly tipsy. The warm day and the exercise had made her thirsty, that was all. But now she thought about it, perhaps two glasses of wine in the sunshine hadn’t been the best combination for clarity of thought. She stood by all her previous theories, however. Maybe she did her best work when she was slightly tipsy.

Nico began to pack away their picnic paraphernalia, scraping off the plates as best he could and covering up what was left of the potato salad.

“Thank you, Nico,” she said suddenly. “That was delicious. And this”—she swirled her hand above her head to indicate the surrounding plateau—“was exactly what I needed.”

“I’m glad.” His gaze softened, and he stopped packing up and reached for her hand. “I think this is what we both needed.” His thumb rubbed tiny circles over her knuckles, his touch warm and reassuring. Something in her heart cracked open just a little at what she saw in his eyes. Not begging. Nico would never beg. And not quite beseeching. But there was an appeal there. An appeal to her better senses. An appeal for her to talk to him. To end his pain. She was the only one who could do that for him.

Lacey suddenly knew it was time for thattalkshe’d been putting off. Time to sort this out. For good or for bad. What she said to him right now might make or break them. She sat back on her heels, letting his hand drop, and rested her palms on her knees. Opening her mouth, she suddenly had no idea what to say.

Now wasn’t the time to be a coward. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, looking him directly in the eye.

“You know how I hate secrets. You know how my mother used secrets to bully me into submission.” Lacey felt a stab of guilt when she mentioned her mother. It’d been six long months without contact with either of her parents. But that wasn’t the point right now, even if it was the rationale behind her reaction to his betrayal of trust. The point was, Nico had lied to her.

“I get it, Lace. I always have. The truth is very important to you.”

“Yes,” she replied. And so he should; she’d made it clear enough on many occasions. “I guess it’s my one nonnegotiable in this relationship. And I thought we had that. I thought you’d told me everything there was to know about you. So you have to understand how the news about Marietta blindsided me.”

Nico grimaced, and she could see she’d hit him straight where it hurt. “You know me. You know how I struggle with…feelings. With commitment. I’m not one to wear my heart on my sleeve,” he said.

She could surely attest to that. Sometimes, getting Nico to admit to his feelings was like pulling teeth. Even right back in the beginning, when he’d found her on the ferry just as she’d been about to leave the island forever and he’d known he was going to lose her if he didn’t do something drastic, he had to drill down deep into himself and eventually he’d come through, telling her that he loved her in front of everyone on the ferry. That’d been extraordinary, and it still made her heart beat wildly when she thought about how romantic it’d all been. It’d taken an exceptional moment in time to get him to come out of his shell, and she really thought that’d been the catalyst for him; that he’d learned since then it wasn’t going to kill him to let her in. That they had something strong and special.

Then Marietta had proven her wrong. Proven that he hadn’t really learnt anything all along.

“But it was more than that,” Nico continued. “I was ashamed that Marietta tricked me so easily. I felt weak. Her duplicity affected my self-confidence and I didn’t want to admit that. Especially to you. I’d worked so hard to put that all behind me. But now I know I was being selfish.”

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