Part 22 (1/2)
Dawn couldn't tear her eyes away. Blood...redhaloed Klara Monaghan's body.
Red on white.
Sn-a-nnnzzz,went Breisi's camera.Sn-a-nnnzzz.
Nausea crashed through Dawn, and she closed her eyes, wanting to blank it out. She'd never seen a neck ripped open like this, had never imagined it could happen to someone she'd talked to only yesterday.
A plain white car roared into the lot, and Breisi and Kiko hid their cameras. Two men in rumpled suits got out. Detectives.
Breisi and Kiko made like gawkers, launching into an unscripted lament about the dead woman. An acting cla.s.s coach would've been proud. They ambled off to the left, near some bushes, then slyly crouched down for a better view.
But Dawn went to the right, ignoring the corpse, trying to get herself together. That's when she heard a whisper.
”Dawn.”
She told herself it was just a sputter, a wheeze from the exhaust of the dying engine that was her body. A brain burp. But then she heard it again.
”Dawn.”
Hands darting toward her revolver and pocket-bound crucifix, she moved closer, near a wall that separated Klara's apartments from another complex.She glanced back at her partners, caught Kiko's eye and motioned toward the wall to show them that there might be something back there. At the same instant, one of the detectives pointed to Breisi and Kiko.
”Hey, you're too close!” he yelled.
Beyond the crime-scene tape, Burks made her way over, probably intending to distract the detective and earn her kickback.
But just as Kiko and Breisi stood to greet the detective, someone grabbed Dawn's arm.
She couldn't do much more than gasp as she was tugged behind the wall. A big shadow greeted her.
Without thinking, Dawn swung at her attacker. He raised his palm, caught her fist in his hand.
But she'd already whipped her body around the opposite way, twisting, leg flying out to connect with his knee.
h.e.l.lelujah. He keeled sideways, thudding against the wall.
”Dawn!” His familiar voice was muddled with pain.
Breath rasping, she held back, took a good look at her a.s.sailant.
”Matt?” She relaxed out of her fighter's stance. Anger turned her fear inside out, exposing her nerves. ”You dips.h.i.+t. What're you doing here?”
He was pus.h.i.+ng himself away from the wall. Something-a cat?-scuttled past them, setting Dawn on edge again.
”I wanted...to ask you the...same question.” He touched his knee, then frowned, tested it. Took a few seconds to compose himself. ”Not that I should be worried about you.”
She started to be glad to see him, recalling what had happened this afternoon at Chez Rose. The kiss. Mmmm.
It reminded her, though, that one kiss didn't mean he could tell her where she could be and couldn't be. Or that he could grab her and yank her behind walls when he felt like it.
”You couldn't just come out to say hi?” she asked.
”Trying to keep a low profile.”
A tame fog grew golden under the clank and fizz of a streetlight that was struggling to stay on. Groaning and favoring his knee, Matt leaned back against the wall, his light blue eyes narrowing, containing a low fire-the deepest part of a flame. Nearby, a cat yowled.
Dawn stayed on guard, arms curved at her sides. She felt the night tingling at her back, up her spine.
”I'm wondering,” she said. ”If you're on my dad's case, why're you at Klara Monaghan's murder scene?”
He clenched his jaw, immovable.
A terrible thought hit her. ”Are they connected? What do you think Frank did?”
Again, not a word.
Furious, Dawn reared back her fist again, ready to strike out at anyone, anything. Just as her hand hurled toward his tight lips, she pulled her punch, keeping her wrath contained.”d.a.m.n it.d.a.m.n it.” She pressed her fists against her forehead.
Frank. What did you do, Frank?
”Hey...”
She felt Matt's hands on her shoulders, heard him sniff at her eau de garlic. Too drained to brush him off, she sank against him, used him to regain her strength so she could fight her doubts. Meanwhile, she took in the scent of his s.h.i.+rt: musk, spice, unidentifiable headiness.
Spreading her palms against his chest, she parted her lips, breathed against him, tasted him with every intake of oxygen. As he talked, she felt the vibrations of his words run over her skin.
”Still wearing that garlic,” he said. ”What do you think you're protecting yourself from?”
”Maybe I just had a nice Italian dinner.”
”Dawn, go home. It's safer. You don't need to be around all this.”
Tell that to Kiko, The Voice, and their predictions, she thought. h.e.l.l, even this PI who she barely knew realized she was out of her league.
Yet...Dawn exhaled against Matt. She hadn't even told Frank ”I love you” back when he'd said it to her during their last phone call a month ago. They'd been arguing about some dumb thing-take your pick-and she'd hung up on him.
As if pus.h.i.+ng away from the thought, Dawn distanced herself from Matt, building herself back up to the big girl she'd trained herself to be. He just stood there, his arms awkward, like she'd robbed him of something.
”When you said you wanted to get together again, I was picturing a whole other scenario,” Dawn said, trying desperately to get back her emotional footing.
”I'm not joking around here.”
”And what do you mean by 'all this'? What do you know?”
Behind the wall, a car peeled out of the lot as a few more peeled in, ushering in a collage of red-blue cop car lights on the face of the apartment buildings. Closer, another cat screeched, its cry strangled to a fading wince.
”You and your partners saw the body.” His mouth curled down at the corners. Anger? ”Tell me why you're here and I just might share my theories.”
A devil's bargain. Even if it was tempting, she knew that Limpet would kill her if she sang the tune of their investigative details.
But...h.e.l.l, what if she broke this wall of silence between the two parties? What if, in spite of all this game playing and secrecy, Matt Lonigan reallywasan ally?