Guarding the Socialite (11 page)

Emma closed her eyes and startled when Dillon's fingertips grazed her forehead, pushing a stray lock of hair from her brow. Even though it was dark, she could almost picture those dark eyes softening with commiseration, as if knowing how difficult it was for her to speak so candidly of Elyse.

“Iris House is your chance to make it right for others,” he surmised, to which she nodded with difficulty. “You couldn't save your sister so you're determined to save whomever you can.”

“Yes.” There it was. Out in the open. She rarely dissected her motivation but she knew deep down that's what it was even if she didn't share with others. “Now you know why I can't walk away. Why I will never walk away.”

Dillon mulled over her admission before saying, “If it helps you heal from the loss of your sister it's a good thing. If it keeps you chained to a past you can't change, it's not. And only you know the answer to that. I say keep doing what you're doing until you figure it out.”

A
fter they'd returned, Emma retired to her bedroom and Dillon took his post on the sofa, both dealing with what had been revealed in different ways. For Dillon, he'd been intrigued and saddened by the events that led to Emma opening Iris House, and her past led to a load of questions as well as gave insight to Emma as a person. But before he could delve more deeply into the side that he'd seen in the car, he had business to attend to and that took his immediate attention.

Early the next morning, he procured the house schedule, Emma's included, before heading off on his own errands. First up, he wanted a chat with Robert Gavin. The man was a loose end that needed tying before he could be written off as a suspect.

Dillon rang the buzzer to the exquisite multimillion-dollar Victorian, lovingly restored with no expense spared, and wondered if Gavin came from money or made it himself.

To his surprise Gavin answered the door.

Dillon flashed his badge along with a disarming smile. “Hullo, Mr. Gavin…I'm Federal Agent Dillon McIntyre. May I have a moment?”

The man, wide in the shoulders with a slight paunch and a chin that had started a slow slide into his neck, didn't seem surprised to see him. In fact, he seemed resigned, as if he'd known sooner or later some kind of law enforcement would come knocking at his door.
Interesting.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked solicitously as they walked into a formal living room, full of spindly French provincial furniture that definitely didn't look comfortable or picked out by a man's hand. Dillon declined and Robert sighed as he levered himself into a high-backed chair that was too girlie for words. “What can I do for you, Agent McIntyre?”

Dillon took a quick look around the room, his attention flitting briefly to a framed picture of an elderly woman wearing a stylish yet dated high-necked frock with multiple strands of pink pearls looping around her fragile neck and wondered aloud with a gesture toward the portrait. “Family?”

“My aunt,” he answered, saying it like
ont
instead of
ant,
which Dillon found noteworthy. He filed away the information for later. “This is her home. She left it to me.”

Dillon flashed a grin. “How nice of the old gal.”

Robert smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. “Forgive me, Agent McIntyre…”

“I know, get to the point. Right. Were you in a romantic relationship with Charlotte Tedrow?”

Robert's skin tone flushed a dull red at the neckline and he stiffened a bit but he answered. “I suspect you already know the answer to your question, so ah, yes, we did enjoy each other's company from time to time. She was a lovely
girl with a generous heart. I was distraught when I heard the news.”

“And how did you meet?”

Robert paused a moment, a shrewd light entering his eyes. “Is this a formal interrogation?”

Dillon chuckled. “This is a polite inquiry, Mr. Gavin. An interrogation has a completely different protocol, in my experience. One that often involves pain and unfortunate instruments used with diabolical purpose.” At Robert's widened stare, Dillon gestured. “Go on, you were about to tell me how you came to know Charlotte Tedrow before she died.”

“We met at a charity event,” Robert said, his lips tightening a bit.

“Oh?”

“Yes. The Iris House Winter Ball last year.”

“That long ago? I find it interesting that Charlotte was able to keep your relationship under wraps from the house for an entire year.”

“I didn't say that's when we became…better acquainted,” Robert spat, momentarily losing his composure. “I said that's when we met.”

“Right. Pardon my interruption.”

“Charlotte and I started seeing each other casually—”

“Casually? Just to be clear, you mean when you became sexually involved?”

Robert's face reddened again. “Yes, if you must be so crude—”

“I must,” Dillon said apologetically. “Just for clarification purposes in my own head. Go on, please finish.”

“About three months ago. She was a lovely girl and surprisingly we had much in common in spite of our different backgrounds.”

“Did you love her?”

“No. But I might have with more time,” he admitted, softening for a moment. “She shone with an inner light that was simply alluring. I was mesmerized.”

Dillon thought of Charlotte as he'd seen her, laid out on a cold coroner's slab, as far from a society girl as anyone could look, with her fried and overprocessed hair, scars on her arms from who knows what. He found Robert's poetic description a bit hard to swallow. Likely he was more mesmerized by her breasts than her personality. Still, Dillon wanted to see how far he'd take it. “Interesting. Rumor has it that you've had a thing for Emma Vale since you met. Was Charlotte a stand-in for Emma or had your affections changed?”

“I don't see how that information is relative to anything, Agent McIntyre,” he replied coolly.

“Oh, you'd be surprised.” Dillon smiled. “By your response I'd say you still think fondly of Emma Vale?”

“She's a fine lady. Who wouldn't?”

“Who wouldn't, indeed?” Dillon mused, mostly to himself. “But as I understand it, Ms. Vale has never encouraged your attentions beyond that of Iris House, correct? Does that make you angry? I suspect that'd make any bloke a titch annoyed. Good-looking woman, you a man of means…should be a match made in heaven.”

“I think I've had quite enough of your
polite inquiry.
” He stood and waited for Dillon to do the same. “If you wouldn't mind, I have things to attend to and I've just realized the time. It's been a pleasure,” he said, his lip curling just a little.

Dillon stuck his hand out. “No worries there,” he said good-naturedly, giving Robert's hand a hard, quick shake. “I've found what I need here. I'll be in touch. Don't leave town. I'd hate to have to chase you down,” he said with a wink.

Dillon was barely out the door when it shut behind him.
That fellow wasn't very friendly. And he was plainly ashamed at having carried on with a former prostitute. No matter what he might've told Charlotte during their stolen interludes, he'd had no intention of squiring her about on his arm. Good for a tumble, not for a ring. Which meant he still had his sights set on Emma, because she was worthy of his economic stature.

So that told him Robert Gavin was a horny snob but it didn't make him a killer.

At least not on the surface. Dillon sent another look toward the house before walking to his car. Something about Robert Gavin made him want to look a bit deeper.

 

Emma was sipping her coffee when Chick came in, mad as hell and pulling a recalcitrant Bella along with her.

“What's wrong?” she asked, alarmed at Chick's actions.

Chick pushed Bella in front of her, earning a nasty look from Bella, as she said, “She's done it this time. And I, for one, am tired of trying to get her to clean up her act when she doesn't give a damn about how hard everyone around her is trying to help her. I'm done. She's your problem, Emma. I can't do it any longer. I'm sorry.”

And with that Chick stomped from the room.

“That's one way to start a morning off on the right foot,” Emma murmured, taking one last bracing sip of her coffee to savor the mouthful before she had to jump into the latest fray involving their youngest boarder. She laced her hands in front of her and looked Bella square in the eye. “What happened? And please, Bella, don't bother lying. We both know it's pointless because I'll find out the truth eventually anyway, and besides, I don't have time to deal with that right now. Just level with me.”

“She's out to get me. She has been from the start,” Bella said with an angry pout. “I didn't do nothing.”

“Chick doesn't react without cause. What did you do? Something at school? Something here? Tell me, please, so we can find a way to fix it.”

“Why do you care?” Bella shot back, her gaze darting from Emma to the floor. “Just kick me out and be done with it. I know you want to, and frankly, I'm tired of hanging around this dull place. No boys, no parties, no fun. I don't know why I've stuck around this long.”

“Cut the crap, Bella,” Emma said bluntly, not in the mood to coddle the teen at the moment. She had her own issues to deal with, and Bella's surly I-don't-care-about-anyone attitude was wearing thin on her already-taut nerves. “What did you do that was so bad that Chick is fed up with you?”

Mutinous silence met her question. Her jaw tightened. “Fine. Perhaps Chick is right. I can't continue to reach out to you when all you do is snap at me and anyone else who tries to help. I will find out from Chick what happened. In the meantime, go to your room and pack your things. I will call your social worker and give her the regretful news that you will no longer be staying at Iris House. You win, Bella. Congratulations.”

Bella's eyes watered, but only for a second. Then she stuck out her chin and shrugged. “It was only a matter of time anyway. I knew it wasn't for real. I knew you didn't want me any more than anyone else.”

“That's not true, Bella. I wanted you here more than anyone. But I learned a painful lesson a long time ago. People who don't want to be helped, simply won't be helped. Be ready within the hour, please.”

Bella's lips thinned, but her brow dipped as if she were at war with herself, wanting to beg to stay, tempted to burn every bridge. Emma held her breath, hoping she would break
down and ask to remain, but she didn't. She simply turned on her heel and slammed the glass door behind her, causing Emma to flinch.

Damn it.
Emma cradled her head in her hands and fought the urge to pound her fists against her desk, frustrated and at her wits' end on how to get through to that girl. The fights at school, the ditching, the drugs, the parties, it was the same MO as Elyse before the big checkout. She swore she wouldn't let that happen to Bella. Somewhere deep down there was a sweet girl who just wanted to find her footing in a life that had nearly run her over at a young age. But Bella was fighting her every step of the way. Just like someone else had. Bella…
what do you need?
The question hammered at Emma, but all Emma received in return was a headache. Chick returned, a frown on her face.

“What now?” Emma asked, weary of the day when it had barely begun. “Is she up there breaking things?”

“No. She's packing. Are you really throwing her out?”

“Yes. Maybe you were right. She's a lost cause.”

Chick looked miserable yet still pissed off. “Of course I'm not right. I never expected you to agree with me. You're the champion, I'm the hothead. Those are our rules. It's our version of good cop, bad cop. I tear them down and you build them back up again. It works. Now you're changing the rules midgame. What gives?”

“What are you saying? You said you were through. I figured it must've been bad enough for you to flip out on her. And she wouldn't tell me so I assumed you must've been right.”

Chick cursed under her breath, muttering, “Well, it was bad. She broke a house rule.”

“Drugs?” Emma held her breath, hoping it wasn't that. Anything but that.

“No. She sneaked a boy in the house last night.”

The pent-up breath escaped in a confused whoosh. “A boy?” She hadn't expected that. Bella didn't like to be touched. By anyone. “How'd you find out?”

“I realized she was taking a lot of food up into her room and the kid hardly eats at all on a normal day. So first thing this morning, I went in there and he'd just slipped out the window. I saw his backside as he went over the side.”

“Oh, Lord, was he hurt?” Emma envisioned a lawsuit if the kid broke something. “Where was I when all this was happening?”

Chick waved away her concern. “He's fine. He used the fire escape to shimmy his way down. But when I confronted Bella about it, she refused to talk. I tried to get her to open up, but you saw her—she clammed up tight. I just got fed up. She breaks the rules with impunity and never seems to suffer the consequences. I got hot under the collar about it and that's when I marched her in here, but I never expected that you'd throw her out. I was thinking you might scare her a bit and straighten her out that way. You know that kid isn't going to make it out there without some guidance.” Chick stared, expecting Emma to make it right, and Emma knew with certainty that Chick felt terrible for losing her temper with the girl. Emma nodded and Chick's shoulders relaxed. “So you're not going to kick her out?”

“I should…but no. You're right. I do bend the rules for her. No sense in stopping now.”

Emma rubbed Chick's shoulder on the way out and headed up to Bella's room.

She opened the door and found the teen packing slowly, as if she was hoping Emma would come and stop her. Damn if the child wasn't smart. Emma sat on the bed and sighed. “Okay. Who is he?”

“Who is who?” Bella hedged.

“I'm not going to play this game,” Emma told her. Best
to be honest. Her nerves were frayed. “You know the house rules. By all rights I should stick to my original dictate and send you packing but if you tell me what's going on I'll see what we can do about the situation.”

Bella stilled, her hands fidgeting with a folded turtleneck before dropping it in her suitcase. “He's no one.”

“Is this how we're going to play this, Bella?” she asked, exasperated. “I'm trying to help you. I want to help you. All I've ever wanted was to help, but if you don't want my help, I'll stop. But let me tell you something…out there, outside of Iris House…no one gives a damn. I'd hoped after your time here you'd recognize the difference.” Emma's voice was cutting but she couldn't help it. She wanted to throttle and hold the girl close but could do neither. She rose to exit the room but Bella's voice, tremulous at her back, stopped her.