Web of Lies (Page 53)

"So that’s what this is still about. Me killing Cliff Ingles. That’s why you don’t want to come inside. That’s why you don’t want to be with me." I could have killed the dirty cop all over again for pushing Donovan away from me.

Donovan shook his head. "Not entirely. It’s mostly about me. Finding out about Cliff, it’s made me think. About a lot of things. And now, this mess with Warren and Violet… I’ll help Sophia and Jo-Jo watch out for them as best I can."

"But…"

"But I’m not going to help you with Tobias Dawson. Not like I did with Alexis James. I can’t, Gin. I just can’t. I can’t be a part of something like that again. I can barely live with the fact I know what you’re going to do to Dawson and the knowledge I’m not going to do a thing to stop you from killing him." His voice dropped again.

"And I can’t be with you. Not tonight."

"You weren’t too concerned with Tobias Dawson and what I was going to do to him when you were f**king me in the backseat a couple of hours ago." My voice was harsher than I would have liked. "Or have you forgotten about that already?"

Donovan flinched. "No, I haven’t forgotten about it, none of it."

"But you’re not going to do it again. Not going to sleep with me again."

His hands tightened around the steering wheel until the leather creaked. "No, I’m not."

I heard the hard resolution in his voice. Donovan Caine had made himself a promise, and he wasn’t going to break it. Oh, I imagined I could get him to forget about his morals, his rules, his vows. All I’d have to do would be to crawl over and start giving him the lap dance of his life. A variation of the striptease I’d performed earlier this evening in the rain.

But I’d made the first move twice now. I wanted the detective to want me, Gin Blanco, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Not just succumb to my charms in the heat of the moment, then feel guilty about it afterward.

"It appears we’re at an impasse then," I said in a low voice.

"Guess so."

Donovan didn’t look at me. He’s not the one for you, Warren T. Fox’s reedy voice whispered in my head. I didn’t want his words to be true, but it looked like they were – at least for tonight. Besides, I had Tobias Dawson to take care of. Fletcher Lane had trained me to put the job first, ahead of my own wishes. Distracted assassins got sloppy, and then they got dead. I especially needed to focus this time, since I had a couple of innocent people to protect. One problem at a time. I’d deal with Donovan and his conflicted feelings about us later.

"All right," I said. "You watch out for Warren and Violet. I’ll get Finn to help me with Tobias Dawson."

Donovan nodded. "I think that’s for the best."

There was nothing else to say. Not tonight. So I got out of the car. The detective didn’t look at me as he threw the vehicle in reverse, turned around, and drove away. I stood there and watched the fog and darkness swallow him up.

For some reason, my heart felt as icy as the rain drizzling down around me.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I’d just finished pulling a blackberry cobbler out of the oven around noon the next day when I heard the sound of tires crunching on the gravel outside. I padded into the front living room and peered out a crack in one of the curtains. A silver Aston Martin crouched in the driveway.

I unlocked the front door, then went back into the kitchen.

A minute later, Finn stuck his head inside the room.

As usual, he wore an impeccable suit, this time in a dark charcoal gray. His cheeks were ruddy from the ever-present drizzle, and water droplets glistened in his walnut hair. He carried his laptop in a black leather waterproof case.

"About time you got here." I dumped a tin pan full of orange-cranberry muffins onto a white plate. "Coffee’s on already."

Finn helped himself to a mug of the hot chicory brew. He took a couple of sips, then moved a basket of sourdough rolls out of the way so he could set his laptop on the kitchen table. "Looks like somebody didn’t get any last night."

I glared at him.

Nonplussed, Finn threw his arm out and gestured at the kitchen. "C’mon. I see a cobbler, muffins, rolls, a chocolate cake, and what I assume are strawberry preserves. You always cook more when you’re upset."

He had me there. The situation with Donovan Caine hadn’t been resolved to my liking, and it had affected me more than I’d realized. Why couldn’t the detective just accept me for what I was? Morals. They always ruined everything.

I’d gotten up early with nothing but time to kill until Finn showed up. So I’d started cooking. But the mixing, stirring, and baking hadn’t relaxed me nearly enough.

Maybe if I made another pound cake or two –

"I take it things didn’t end with the good detective in your bed last night?" Finn asked in a sly tone.

In addition to treating me like a sister, Finnegan Lane also had an annoying tendency to analyze my sex life – along with everyone else’s.

"No," I snapped. "The detective didn’t spend the night, although I invited him to."

Finn shook his head. "Idiot. The man’s an idiot. But don’t feel bad. I didn’t have any luck myself last night."

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean the evening didn’t end with you having a threesome with Violet Fox and Eva Grayson?"

"Touche."

Finn took another sip of his coffee. He examined the various treats I’d baked and grabbed two orange-cranberry muffins to start off with.

"I hope you did something last night other than hit on those two girls," I said, dishing up a generous portion of blackberry cobbler into a large bowl.

"If you consider sifting through reams of information on Tobias Dawson, then yes, I did do something useful last night, although it was a thoroughly eye-glazing experience. The man doesn’t have nearly enough vices to make things interesting. All he does is mine coal and buy equipment to mine coal and look for more places to mine coal. Did I mention he mines coal?"

"Once or twice." My lips twitched up. No matter how bad I felt, Finn could always make me smile. I loved him for that.

I used my Ice magic to frost a mug and create some small Ice cubes, then poured myself a glass of milk and dug into the cobbler. I didn’t bother with ice cream this time. I just wanted warm sugar, and a lot of it.

"But you were right about the diamonds," Finn said.

"According to the cell phone photos the detective took in Dawson’s office, the dwarf is planning a major expansion of his current mining operation. And guess where the new primary shaft leads to?"

I didn’t even have to guess. "Warren T. Fox’s country store."