Matters of the Blood (26 page)

"He should remember what curiosity did,” I said and turned back to my meal.

Adam laughed out loud. “My sweet, you are undeniably an interesting dinner companion.” He grinned at me and raised his wine glass in salute.

I smiled and shrugged, raising my own glass in answer. Look who was talking.

"Well, isn't this just ducky?” The scathing sentence dropped between us, a biting chill of frost crashing into our intimate mood.

Carlton stood in the doorway of the bar.

I put my wine glass down as Adam turned and stood in one movement, smooth and graceful.

"Sheriff Larson,” he said, his voice neutral.

"Why are you here?” I wasn't quite so neutral.

Andrea pushed past Carlton, apologizing. “Sorry, Adam, I asked him to wait in the lobby until you were—"

"No worries, Andrea,” Adam waved a hand, dismissing her. “We were nearly done with dinner. Sheriff, what brings you here?"

Carlton scowled at Adam, then at me, then back at Adam. “I came to talk to Walker about the deer. I didn't know you were here."

I glared at Carlton, whose body language held all the hurt and defiance that only an old boyfriend could have when finding his former lover is now dating someone else. I could say something totally untrue, like “it's not what it seems,” but it was exactly what it seemed. It just sure as hell wasn't any of Carlton's business.

He sauntered into the private dining room, a little bit of a strut in his walk. He was playing jealous ex-boyfriend for all it was worth.

"I just got back from Houston and figured you'd want to know what I found out at the bank. Besides, you left a rather interesting message on my voice mail. Went by your place, you weren't there. Left a phone message. Then I came on over here.” His drawl was pronounced and as artificial as Fresca. He hadn't talked that way since high school. “I was going to go back by your place after I came to the ranch. I didn't realize you'd be here."

"I don't file my plans with you, Carlton,” I said, trying to keep calm. “So what part of what you found out was so all-fired important you had to talk to me this late?” I glanced over to the clock on the wall as I stepped forward, in front of Adam. “At nearly ten-thirty at night?"

Adam rested a hand on my shoulder. A show of solidarity? Possessiveness? I ignored it as best I could and made an effort to keep calm.

The sheriff frowned. “I have news about what I found out in Houston. About your cousin Marty."

"So, talk,” I demanded.

Carlton looked down at the ground and didn't speak.

I may have lost some self-control, but I surely I hadn't lost my common sense. Why didn't he just tell me? I was getting impatient with him.

"I think that your ... friend ... doesn't want to talk in front of me.” Adam's silken voice sounded amused, superior and smug.

Damn this male posturing, anyway. Was Adam going to start acting the jealous possessive date now? Shit, did vampires still have testosterone to throw around? I certainly hoped this wasn't going to disintegrate into a “whose is bigger” game.

"Why don't the two of you go into the parlor,” Adam continued, “and discuss your personal matters. Then the sheriff may speak to me in my office."

"Is there anything I can do, Mr. Walker?” Evan's voice came from behind Carlton. He stepped to the side, wiping his hands on a bar towel, looking like nothing more than a concerned bouncer.

"Nothing, thank you, Evan,” Adam said. “The sheriff is here to talk to Ms. Kelly. Everything is fine."

The tall blond frowned, but nodded and tossed the bar towel over his shoulder as he left. I looked back at Carlton, who had the grace to look embarrassed.

Adam closed in and lightly brushed a kiss on my forehead, his hand caressing my cheek with a wisp of a touch, his look smoldering a promise. Stepping to the side, he turned and sketched a slight bow to Carlton, who stood rigid as a steel beam.

"Go, speak to the sheriff,” Adam said. “We'll talk later. The parlor is just through the lobby to the left."

"Let's go,” I said, and walked out, hoping Carlton would follow. I noticed Evan watching us as we crossed through the bar.

Before I reached the main area of the lobby, which was suspiciously empty of guests, Carlton's voice stung me.

"How touching.” The acrid harshness of the words warred with the sleek softness of Adam's tone.

I whirled, anger coloring my own words. He wasn't going to wait until we got to the parlor. He was planning on having this out right here. That was fine with me. I had nothing to hide.

"What right do you have to comment on anything that goes on in my life, Carlton Larson?"

He approached me, stopping only when I raised a hand.

"I did once."

"Not even then,” I said, moving away from him. “Besides, it's long since over. We've had this conversation."

"Yeah, I noticed you're conversing with someone else."

"And you're married. For twelve years is it? How is Carol, anyway?"

Carol, the petite blonde bombshell that he'd run to after our break up. Okay, I was being mean. He'd run to a new job. She'd only been a fringe benefit. An oilman's daughter, she'd been temping as a Citizens On Patrol liaison at the San Antonio PD when they'd met. I'd heard the whole story in great detail the one time I'd called him in San Antonio, not long after he'd left Rio Seco. I'd tried to extend a hand of friendship. He'd metaphorically slapped it away.

His laugh spilled anger and frustration into the air. It was the “I have to laugh before I cry” kind of sound.

"Married. If that's what you want to call it. My so-called wife decided that life at her parents’ mansion in Conroe was infinitely preferable to life in Rio Seco with me."

He sat down with a heavy sigh, pulling his hat off his head and running his hand through his matted-down hair until it stood on end. It made him look more vulnerable somehow, not the in-control lawman.

I sat on a chair across from him, far enough away so I didn't have to work so hard at blocking the emotion that was pouring off him in waves.

"I put up with years of city politics, of gang-bangers, of innocent dead children for her. She hated the fact I wanted to stay a cop, she wanted me to get promotions, make captain, get a desk job with a little prestige. So I suffered.” He stared down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them.

"The last case I had, these hands had to touch the bodies of three dead kids. All of them were under the age of five. They'd been playing in the living room when a group of gang-bangers shot up the wrong house. One little girl had no face left. The bullets ripped through her skull like it was a birthday pi?ata. Her brains were scattered across her mother's brand new white couch."

He looked at me through unshed tears. “I quit the next day. Carol left me before I even moved back home, Keira. It wasn't just that I'd quit my job. She always knew how I felt about you. That you were the reason I came back here instead of moving somewhere else. I stopped in Conroe on my way back from Houston. Wanted to see my kids. Tried to convince Carol to come back with me."

I couldn't speak. His heartbreak was more than I could take right now. Part of me wanted to comfort him, as a friend, as someone I'd once cared about, but I couldn't. This was too much for me to handle. I was afraid that if I let down my guard, he'd take it the wrong way.

"I'm sorry. But I can't. What we had was years ago, Carlton. It's over. I can't be the reason you came back home."

"I'm not good enough for you anymore, is that it?” The nastiness returned.

"Stop it, Carlton. Do
not
make this about me. What happened in your home life is your business, not mine. What I do with my life is my business, not yours. Now what did you come here to tell me?"

His glare matched mine. But he got the hint and changed the subject.

"I got the bank records,” he said. “Your cousin was in deep with the Albrights. For every deposit he made, he wrote a check to either Derek or Dusty for a good chunk of money. The last check he wrote was a couple of weeks ago."

"And this is news because—?” I was livid. If he'd come over here just to play pity poor me and to tell me information I'd already figured out for myself—

"The money came from someone you know, Keira. From here. From the Wild Moon."

"You're lying.” My response was automatic.

"I am not. Why would I lie about this? I had no idea you were seeing that guy when I came over here. When the hell did you meet him anyway? You didn't say anything the other day when I saw you at Bea's."

"Again I ask the question. Why exactly do you think this is your business?

"Because if that money came from your new boyfriend, then maybe he had something to do with your cousin's murder."

"How do you know the money came from the Wild Moon anyway?"

I didn't know much about banks, but unless someone had been stupid enough to write out a check to Marty, there'd be no way to know this. My bullshit detector was screaming.

But Carlton had an answer that I couldn't argue with.

"I sweet-talked a young clerk who remembered your cousin. She was more than willing to talk about the creepy little bald guy who tried to pick her up. She said he kept talking about all the money he was making from this rich jerk at the Wild Moon. She remembered thinking the name was odd."

"How convenient,” I said. Two could play the sarcasm game. “She just happened to remember all of this."

Carlton looked at me as if he couldn't believe how stupid I was. Maybe he was right. But before I went off accusing Adam of anything, he'd have to give me more to go on than some bank clerk's memory.

"I imagine you'd remember, too, if someone kept coming in person all the way from Rio Seco every month."

I slumped back into the chair, staring off toward the bar. The place had nearly emptied. I was sure Adam had asked the patrons to leave. Either that, or even the vampires weren't amused by our antics. Evan and his friend were the only ones there. As I stared, the two of them looked at me, looked away, then walked out. Great, they probably didn't want to deal with us, either. Neither did I for that matter.

But I had to stay and listen. Carlton was right. If I were a bank clerk, no matter how many transactions I'd process in a day, I'd remember somebody that came that regularly and from that far away. Knowing Marty, he'd been flirting with her, making sure to wait until she was free to help him. He may have been stupid, but he'd always been tenacious.

Damn it all. I would swear on all my future talent and all the talent my family possessed that Adam was innocent of anything to do with Marty's death, but I was still confused. I was sure Adam never knew Marty, but he had to know each one of his guests and one of them must have been paying Marty for something, although I couldn't think what. Had Adam known it was happening? I didn't think so, but until I could talk to him, I wouldn't know the truth. I so didn't want to deal with this while Carlton was here.

"There's more, Keira."

"More? How could there be more?"

"I'm sorry, but this is a murder investigation. What do you want me to do?

"Go home, Carlton. Leave me alone and talk to Adam tomorrow.” I said, suddenly tired.

I was beyond exhausted. Bone deep weariness flooded my body, making me want to do nothing more than sleep. I was tired of this nightmare that was now my life. I didn't want to deal anymore, didn't want to have a dead cousin, didn't want to think about any of this. All I wanted was to be left alone to try to figure out what I wanted to do next. How was I going to confront Adam about all of this?

"You want me to leave?"

"Don't sound so surprised.” I looked over at him. “Did you think I'd ask to you to take me home, rescue me, stay the night?"

He shook his head. “I don't understand you, Keira, I wonder if I ever did. I tell you—your boyfriend may be involved in your cousin's murder and all you can say is ‘go home, Carlton'?"

"What do you want me to say? Oh, gee, I've seen the light and I want to get back together with you?"

"You made it perfectly clear that wasn't an option."

"It's not."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Okay, now we both had resorted to junior high verbal sparring. What was next, stomping off in a huff and not sitting together in the cafeteria? Shit.

"I have to question him.” He said it as if it were a dare, a challenge.

I shrugged, pretending indifference. “What's stopping you?"

"Nothing."

"Let's go.” I sprang up from the chair, just as suddenly re-energized. Damn Carlton Larson anyway for bringing all his personal baggage into this.

As I turned to look for someone who could take us to Adam's office, Andrea walked through the bar and approached us. Great. Vampires who appeared on cue. Of course, she'd probably heard every word.

"Sheriff, would you care to accompany me to the office?” Her melodious voice was subdued. I'd bet Adam had told her off for having let Carlton in.

Carlton hesitated, then tucked his hat under his arm and followed the lithe security guard.

My interesting night just got more than interesting.

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Adam came up behind me and took my arm.

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah. I'll live.” I smiled at him.

"Good. Now let's go to my office and see what the Sheriff wants."

He led me out through the lobby and down a small hallway to a door marked “Private.” Before he opened it, he turned to me, a serious expression on his face.

"Keira, I don't mean to pry, but before we go in ... I need to ask you something."

"Yes?” I braced myself. What could he possibly need to know right now?

"Just what is the connection between you and our Sheriff?"

Oh, crap. Even with the lovely little scene out front, I'd forgotten Adam wasn't familiar with all of my past. I drew in a breath, then let it out slowly. How to explain in a few words the confusion that was Carlton Larson.

"On my part, what there was of a connection, is in the past, way past. We were lovers once. About a dozen years ago, for a very short time."