Sealed with a Kiss (Ty & Hunter #2)(27)
Author: Carly Phillips

He glanced at her face, expecting a stricken look.

Instead, she slowly nodded. “That makes sense.”

“But Seth—”

“He already knows. He couldn’t live in this house and not know his father had…issues with his temper. He’ll get through this just like we all will.” Sonja met his gaze with a determined one of her own.

She never failed to amaze him with her strength. He just wished she’d used that strength to leave her husband. Too late to think about that now, though.

He inclined his head. “Okay then, that’s settled.” Now to tell her about her husband’s affair. “Just one more thing.” He drew a fortifying breath because he knew this would be the most difficult of all.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s about Paul.”

She leaned closer to him. “Yes?”

“I had a visitor while I was in jail. Lydia McCarthy.”

Sonya sat up straighter. She adjusted her headband, then clasped her hands together in her lap. “What about her?”

“Paul and Lydia were involved.” He chose the most benign word he could find.

Sonya frowned. “Don’t try to make it sound all nice and refined. They were having an affair,” she spat out.

Frank rose to his feet. “You knew? ” And he hadn’t. Would wonders never cease?

“I lived with the man. Of course I knew. And frankly, I was relieved. Paul and I hadn’t had a marriage in a good long time. Not a real one, anyway. I stayed with him to keep our family together but I couldn’t stand his temper and…” She trailed off, glancing away. “I couldn’t stand for him to touch me that way.” She shuddered.

But when she met Frank’s gaze, sadness and guilt filled her beautiful eyes.

“Don’t,” he said in a gruff voice. “Don’t feel guilty for what happened to your marriage or to Paul.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “We’ll get through this.” He tried like hell to reassure her.

Even if there were times when he wondered how.

CHAPTER SEVEN

HUNTER AWOKE the next morning with a plan. As of now, the police had the general on motive, opportunity and lack of an alibi on the night of the murder, all damning evidence, but the authorities didn’t have a murder weapon to tie to his client. In Hunter’s mind, the case was purely circumstantial.

His next step was to create reasonable doubt that his client had killed Paul Markham by finding other people with equal motive. He had his office staff preparing to file a motion to dismiss the case for lack of evidence. Considering how slowly the justice system moved, Hunter had plenty of time to interview and find evidence in favor of Molly’s father.

He’d start by interviewing those closest to the general, including his own family, Sonya and her son, Seth, and Frank and Paul’s secretary, Lydia McCarthy. And he hoped to do these things alone, without Molly’s distracting company, or help, at least until he had a better handle on the facts and the players in the case. He knew she wanted to help him and he’d resigned himself to that fact, but he needed to get up to speed first.

“Chicken.”

Hunter swung his head toward the bird and scowled. “No, I just want to be on an even footing with her. Is that so much to ask?” The woman kept him off balance as it was, Hunter thought. Enough to have him talking to a bird.

He glanced at Ollie but the macaw didn’t reply.

Hunter pulled together some papers his office had faxed over and tossed them into the duffel bag he carried instead of a stuffy briefcase and headed out of the study. There had to be a library in town where he could sit down and concentrate without distraction.

First stop, though, would be the coffee machine in the kitchen. The commander brewed a different flavor every morning, changing coffee as frequently as her hair. This morning he’d glanced out the window to see her working in her garden. Her bright red hair had been drastically altered to a dark brown with a hint of what couldn’t be described as anything other than eggplant, a rich purple made more vibrant by the sun’s rays. He really enjoyed the woman and her sense of humor, which in many ways reminded him of Molly’s.

Once again, Molly was in his thoughts, tempting him. With a groan, he turned his attention to the delicious smell and tried to identify this morning’s brew. “Hazelnut?” he wondered aloud.

“French vanilla.” Molly caught up with him as he poured himself a cup.

“Want some?” he asked.

“No thanks. I already had a cup. Where are you off to this morning?”

He turned to see her eyeing the duffel bag he’d left on the table.

“I have a defense to prepare, remember?”

“How could I forget?” Her lips turned downward in a sad frown as they did every time she was reminded of her father’s situation.

Hunter wished he could reassure her, but he didn’t have enough ammunition on his side, at least not yet.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking about Paul’s murder and there have to be other suspects,” Molly said. “The first thing we should do is look into the business and see who else had motive to want Paul Markham dead.”

He opened his mouth to speak but she kept right on talking.

“I’ve filled in for Lydia, their secretary, a few times. I have a rudimentary idea of how the office system works. We can see which recent closings had a lot of money passing into different accounts and look for anything suspicious. Maybe Paul screwed over someone he owed money or did business with.” She spoke quickly as if she expected him to slam the door shut on her idea at any moment.

Instead, Hunter grinned. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were smarter than me.”

She squared her shoulders. “I was the valedictorian of our law school graduating class, remember?”

“By like two-tenths of a percentage point,” he reminded her. He cleared his throat. “Listen—”

She sidled up to him, bringing with her the intoxicating scent he associated with Molly. Perfume or shampoo, it didn’t matter. He liked it.

“Please don’t say you don’t want me involved in this case,” she said, her eyes wide and imploring. “This is my father we’re talking about and that makes me involved already. I want to help. Actually, I need to help—”

“You’re right.”

She blinked. “What?”

He pulled a long sip of black coffee. “I said you’re right. The coffee is French vanilla.” He knew it was a bad time to tease her but he couldn’t resist.