Chapter Twenty

“Let me say this as clearly as I can: No matter how sharp a grievance or how deep a hurt, there is no justification for killing innocents.” William J. Clinton

As the door slammed closed, Gideon turned her around, backed her up against the wood, and kissed her. She melted into him. Last time they’d kissed, she’d been a little preoccupied with the drugging-a-Secret-Service-agent thing to take much notice of the whole process.

This time she gave herself over to the feel of his mouth forcing hers open, his tongue pushing inside, his hard body pressed against hers. He was already aroused…and, if his extremely impressive erection was anything to go by, clearly not in the least put off by the red hair and freckles.

She wriggled her hips against him, and he groaned into the kiss. They were both breathing hard by the time he raised his head. For a second, he rested his forehead against hers, and she listened to his breathing.

He dropped a kiss on her lips and stepped back. As he took her bag from over her shoulder, her phone rang. He pulled it out, switched it off, and tossed it onto the table with her bag on top of it. Then he reached behind her, pulled off the toggle holding her hair and added that to the pile. He ran his fingers through the long strands, laying it across her shoulders.

“It’s like silk and fire,” he said.

That was by far the nicest thing anyone had ever said about her hair. He lowered his head for another kiss, not touching her anywhere else, just lips to lips, hardly moving for long minutes. By the time he raised his head, her whole body was tingling. His gaze never leaving her face, he slipped his hands under the shoulders of her jacket, slid it down her arms, and tossed it on the growing pile. With one finger, he traced the neckline of her shirt, his fingers lingering over the row of freckles along her collarbone. His hand moved lower, his fingers shifting to the top button of her shirt. He flicked it open, lowered his head, and kissed the skin he’d revealed, then flicked open the next button. She glanced down; the black lace of her bra showed against the paleness.

The next button opened, and the edges of her shirt parted. Both hands glided around her rib cage, his palms warm and hard. One hand slid up to cup her breast just as the doorbell rang. Really loud because they were actually pressing back against the door.

“Should we ignore it?” he murmured, leaning in close and nuzzling the side of her neck.

She wanted to so much, but the sheer unusualness of the doorbell ringing was battling with her rising passion. She didn’t want anything battling with her passion. She could count on one hand—actually one finger—the times a man had made her feel this way. Normally she couldn’t switch off, but even the fact that she was thinking about this showed that the moment was gone.

The doorbell rang again.

Who the hell could it be?

She didn’t get visitors and she hadn’t ordered a pizza.

She sidled out from between him and the door, fumbling to fasten her buttons as she turned. When she was decent, she opened the door and took an instinctive step back.

Two uniformed officers, a man and a woman, stood on the doorstep, caps in hand. She recognized them as local police and her heartbeat stuttered. She fought the urge to slam the door and close her eyes until they disappeared.

What could they want?

Nothing good.

“Ms. Kate Buchanan?” the woman asked.

She nodded but couldn’t get any words out. Was it her mom? Stella? Were they in trouble, or worse?

She sensed Gideon behind her. He rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “What’s this about?” he asked.

“I’m afraid we have some bad news.” The woman peered over Kate’s shoulder and into the apartment. “Could we come inside?”

She gave a quick nod, though she wanted to scream “no” and run away and hide. She turned, found herself facing Gideon’s chest. Maybe she should tell him to go, but she didn’t. Just walked around him and led the way into the living room. She stood behind the sofa, her hand gripping the back.

She cleared her throat. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“You have a sister, Stella Buchanan?”

Oh God, not Stella.

She nodded again, was vaguely aware of Gideon coming to stand beside her, his arm sliding around her waist. She shifted closer, as though he could somehow protect her from what was coming. Could somehow stop the words she knew were about to be spoken.

“I’m afraid your sister was in an accident this evening.”

Not Stella, it can’t be true. A mistake.

“Is she…?” She couldn’t get the words out.

“Is she alive?” Gideon asked from beside her.

“I’m afraid she was pronounced dead at the scene.”

…

Gideon watched as the last of the color leached from her face, the freckles standing out stark against her white skin. A small sound escaped her throat.

“Are you sure it was her? Are you sure there’s not been a mistake? Maybe someone else was driving her car?”

“We’re certain. She had her identification with her, and her fingerprints matched up. I’m sorry, Ms. Buchanan, but you’re listed as next of kin, and we need you to do a formal identification. The morning will be fine.”

“No. No, I have to go now. Maybe there’s…” She dashed a hand over her face, although her eyes were dry. Some things went way beyond tears. “Have my parents been told?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. We just inform the next of kin.”

“Thank you,” Gideon said. “I’ll see you out.”

He urged Kate forward with the hand at her waist, then pushed her gently down onto the sofa. She sat, staring straight ahead, her eyes blank, her hands clasped loosely in her lap. He ushered the two cops out into the hallway. “What exactly happened?” he asked, after he’d pulled the door closed behind him.

“From what we can gather, she was on her usual trip home. She was speeding, lost control on a corner. If it’s any consolation, it’s pretty certain she died on impact.”

He supposed it would be when it all sank in. The speeding bit didn’t sound like Stella. She’d always been a careful driver, but he supposed people changed in ten years. He let them out and stood for a moment. He could call up her parents, let them take over. Then he could get out of here.

Did he want to be involved?

He was still trying to get his head around the accident. Stella…dead. It seemed inconceivable. Not real.

Once, years ago, he’d fully expected to marry Stella. And while he’d come to realize that there had never been true love between them, he had been fond of her. Now he couldn’t just walk away from her sister. From her reaction, he could tell they’d been close. She was in shock.

He’d take her to the hospital, stay with her until her parents got there.

When he pushed open the door, she was talking on the phone. Her hands were trembling.

“I’ll see you at the hospital, Daddy. I have to go.” She ended the call and stared at him. “You should leave.”

“I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“You don’t need to. I can get a cab.”

Her tone was flat and there was no emotion in her voice.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I’m fine.”

He crossed the room, crouched down in front of her, and cupped her cheek. Her skin was cold. He took her hands between his and rubbed them. Finally, he straightened and stood looking down at her. “Are you sure you want to do this? You could leave it to your father. You don’t have to see her.”

“I do have to. It doesn’t seem real. I need to see her.”

“Okay.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, called a cab firm, and gave the address. “They’re on their way,” he said to Kate, and she nodded.

“I hope it was quick. I hope she didn’t suffer.”

“I’m sure she didn’t.”

“But you don’t know.”

She got to her feet. The buttons on her shirt were fastened wonkily, and he undid them and refastened them properly. She didn’t try to stop him or help him, just stood there staring over his shoulder. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, her lower lip clamped between her teeth to keep the words in. She shook her head.

He couldn’t believe that only minutes ago, they’d been kissing. If this hadn’t happened, they’d be in bed now. How fragile life was and how easily things could be snatched from you.

A car horn sounded outside the house. “The cab,” he said. She walked in front of him like a robot. He got the impression something was going on in her head, something she wanted to keep inside. It occurred to him that if he wanted to find out about her, what made her tick, why she had drugged him, then she was vulnerable right now. But he couldn’t bring himself to question her when she was so broken.

He picked up her jacket and bag from the table by the front door, then followed her out into the hallway and onto the street.

In the taxi, he held her hand. Once or twice he thought she was going to speak, but in the end, they made it to the hospital without her saying a word.

Her parents were already waiting in the reception area with a man he didn’t recognize, whose eyes were red from crying. He must be the husband. Her mother looked dazed.

Her father held open his arms. Kate ran toward him, and he wrapped his arms around her. He stared at Gideon over her shoulder and gave a small nod of acknowledgment. He was probably wondering what Gideon was doing with his daughter. Gideon hadn’t seen Justice Buchanan since the day he’d entered the interrogation room where they’d been questioning Gideon about Aaron’s disappearance ten years ago. Justice Buchanan had told Gideon that Stella had broken off the engagement. That she didn’t want to see him again.

He stepped up closer to the small group. Kate had her family now. He could leave her without worrying about her being alone. While he might not like her father, he’d only been protecting Stella all those years ago. As he’d no doubt protect Kate now.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Thank you, Gideon.”

Kate pulled free as he came to a halt beside them. The blankness had gone from her face and her eyes were filled with grief. Reaching out, she rested a hand on his arm. “You must be hurting, too. You loved her once.”

He didn’t deny it—now was not the time—although he wanted to.

“She was a good person. You’ll miss her.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, something had changed. She stared him in the eyes. “I’m just sorry that we hadn’t spoken for so long.”

“You hadn’t?”

“We’d argued. It seems so stupid now. I wish I could go back and tell her it didn’t matter.”

Why would she say she hadn’t seen Stella when they had met that lunchtime?

He eyed her. “I’m sure she understood.”

“Maybe.”

Suddenly he had the urge to grab her, whisk her away. Hide her from danger. What did she know? What the hell was she involved with?

Why had she lied?

“I have to go.” He nodded to her father, then turned and walked away.