Cursed (15 page)

     “Then what do you
want?” She snapped out the words.

     He shifted closer
invading her space. Wariness filled her eyes. Cullinan could see he’d
frightened her but if scaring her got him the truth then so be it. He studied
the rim of black around her green irises, the pale gold undertones in her skin
and her full mouth set in a firm line. “I want to know why you betrayed me by
telling Abel I stole your pendant.”

     She took a step
back. “I didn’t tell Abel anything.”

     “But you said you
would go directly to Abel if I—”

     Tess huffed. “Well,
I didn’t.”

     The anger drained
out of him. “Why not?”

     Lowering her chin,
she avoided looking at him. “I don’t know.”

     The softly murmured
words shocked him. She hadn’t told Abel? The truth of the statement struck him
like a sledgehammer. She hadn’t told Abel because they weren’t involved and she
still cared...for him. He placed a finger beneath her chin lifting her gaze up
to his. “I think you do know. Tell me.”

     She licked her lips
and started to speak when the phone rang, interrupting her. “I’ll meet you in
the den.” Tess motioned with her hand. “It’s down the hall on your right.”

     Cullinan sat on the
sofa and listened to the muffled sound of Tess’s voice drifting through the
open archway that connected the kitchen and den. A cozy gas fire glimmered in
the brick fireplace casting soft light about the inviting room. She’d done okay
after Quinn died, he thought, glancing around at the traditional furniture and
walls painted in a soothing neutral tone. He felt proud of her, but deep down
he wished she had run back to his arms and asked him to help her. He heard her
hang up the phone and in a moment, she settled beside him on the sofa.

     Cullinan raised his
right arm and rested it along the top of the sofa. She’d pulled her hair up
into a messy ponytail and he fought the temptation to stroke his fingers over
the creamy skin of her neck. “Are you ready to tell me why you didn’t talk to
Abel?”

     She restlessly
smoothed her brow with both hands. “I wanted to give you the benefit of the
doubt.”

     Cullinan almost
didn’t hear her softly spoken words but when they finally sunk in a little
spark of hope ignited inside him. He laid two fingers on the side of her chin
and turned her face toward his. “Are you saying you’re beginning to believe I
didn’t steal your pendant?”

     Her gaze clung to his,
her eyes a mixture of expectation and confusion. A sigh escaped her parted
lips. “Maybe.” Cullinan reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek,
tucking it behind her ear. Her breath caught when he touched her. Her warmth
caressed his fingers making him yearn to touch her skin to skin. “If you search
your heart, Tess, you’ll know I could never steal anything from you.”

     “I thought I knew
you...now I’m not so sure.” Her words wafted over him in a suffocated whisper.

     “You know me.” He lowered
his gaze to her mouth, leaned in close until barely an inch separated their
lips. “Intimately.” He let their breaths mingle and caressed her lower lip with
his thumb.

     Slowly, she pulled
away from his touch. “That was a long time ago. A lot has changed since then.”

     Cullinan smiled
slightly. “Not that much. The chemistry’s still hot between us. That kiss we
shared the other day proves it.”

     “Chemistry was never
the problem...honesty was.”

     She might as well
have thrown a bucket of cold water over him. He slumped against the back of the
sofa and heaved a heavy sigh. “Why do you keep throwing that in my face? I was
going to tell you I was a thief.”

     “When, Cullinan?”

     He turned his head
and looked at her. “I would have told you...when the time was right.”

     “You would have
waited until after we were married, maybe even until after I became pregnant
with our first child...then it would have been too late.”

     “Too late for what?”

     “Too late to walk
away from you.”

     “You did that
anyway.”

     She turned her head
and gazed at the fire. “I couldn’t be with you after that.”

     He wrapped his
fingers around her hand. She looked at him as he drew her hand to his mouth and
lightly kissed her knuckles. “And now?”

     She tried to pull
her hand away, but he held on to it firmly but gently. “I’m tired; it’s been a
long day.” She managed to pull her hand away this time, effectively avoiding
his question.

     “By the way, that
was Chief Palmera on the phone. He told me they searched your shop and didn’t
find the pendant.”

     They found something
else. An image of the jade egg flitted through his mind but he pushed it aside.
“That’s because I didn’t steal it. Hope and I are working on a few leads. When
we have some solid information I’ll let you know.” He brushed the back of his
hand over her cheek and rose from the sofa. “I’ll be in touch.”

* * *

     Nick had been
following Cullinan Benedict for days hoping to catch him meeting with a fence
to unload the pendant. Today he’d followed him from his antique shop to
Washington Park, a large recreational area in the middle of the city.
The
guy probably came out to take a walk and soak up some sun. If he were meeting a
fence they would likely do it behind closed doors and not out in the open to
avoid drawing attention to themselves
. Nick sat in a car he’d borrowed from
the impound lot and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. He hadn’t
wanted to drive his Mustang.

     Cullinan had seen
the candy-red car the night he and Hope had been in the middle of that lip
lock. He grew hard just thinking about her. Damn it, why did Cullinan have to
be Hope’s brother? Why couldn’t he be just another suspect? He already knew the
answer. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he cared for Hope.

     When had his
feelings changed, he wondered. The evening she’d confessed her concern for a
baby whose mother had been brutally murdered or the moment he’d taken her in
his arms and kissed her? No matter when she’d become important to him, one
thing was certain—capturing and convicting her brother would hurt her deeply.
Would she ever forgive him?

     Probably not, but
damn it, he was a cop with a job to do and he couldn’t let his burgeoning
feelings for Hope get in the way. Cursing to himself, he watched Benedict exit
his truck, a black SUV, the same make and model that had been spotted the night
of the robbery. Benedict stood for a moment on the edge of the park with his
hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. Nick focused the lens of his 35 mm
camera on his subject and waited.

* * *

     Cullinan stopped at
the edge of the park and surveyed the scene before him. The snow had been
plowed into untidy mounds along the edge of the paved path that wound through
the park. The slightly warm winter sun beamed down over the wooded area where
people walked their dogs or ate their sack lunch at a picnic table while the
weather held. He breathed in the crisp air and looked for a familiar face he
hadn’t seen in a long time. He couldn’t help but grin when he saw the man he
sought.  Quickly Cullinan walked toward his adopted uncle, wearing a dark
coat and sitting on a park bench smoking a cigarette. He stopped a few feet
away, looked at him and waited. Cullinan saw Patrick’s brief smile crease the man’s
classic Irish face, but his smile of recognition didn’t reach his blue eyes.
Patrick tossed the cigarette to the ground, crushed it under the toe of his
shoe and stood up.

     “It’s good to see
you, boyo.” His accent, a thick, Irish brogue, rumbled from his throat.

     With a surge of
happiness, Cullinan strolled quickly to his side and they embraced. His uncle
gave him a couple of hard, affectionate slaps on the back before pulling away.
Patrick was Cullinan and Hope’s honorary uncle and had been their father’s
oldest friend. He stood a lean five feet nine, a perfect size for a thief who
needed to pull himself up the side of buildings or slip through a window
unnoticed.

     Patrick tossed an empty
cigarette pack into a trash can sitting by the park bench. “Where’s Hope?”

     “Right here.”

     They turned. Hope
walked up behind them with a cup of something hot in one of her gloved hands.
She threw an arm around their uncle’s shoulders and gave him a hug.

     He touched the side
of her face. “Your father would be proud.” Patrick’s expression sobered and he
glanced nervously at the people milling about them before looking at Cullinan
and Hope. “I’m glad you called.”

     Cullinan nodded.

     A mixture of fear
and nerves flickered over his face. Patrick was a shrewd man with the sharply
honed skills of a professional thief who had never been caught. He eyeballed
every person who walked passed them.

     Cullinan laid a hand
on Patrick’s shoulder, gave it a light squeeze then dropped his hand to his
side. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

     Patrick cleared his
throat and looked at Hope, uneasiness clouding his eyes. “There’s something I
have to tell you about your father and the night he died.”

     Cullinan watched the
shadow of grief cross his sister’s face. “There’s nothing to tell. It was my
fault.” Hope’s voice was a mere whisper.

     “No, it was mine.”
Pain and regret laced Patrick’s voice.

     Hope glanced at
Cullinan then back at Patrick and frowned. “What do you mean? You had nothing
to do with that job.”

     He looked down at
his feet then back up at Hope and Cullinan. “Alex Case was connected to
organized crime.”

     “No, you’re
mistaken. He was—”

     Patrick held up a
hand and interrupted her. “Please...let me finish. You have to understand I was
desperate.”

     Cullinan held his
hands out to his sides. “Why are you telling us this now after ten years?”

     Patrick paused for a
moment as if collecting his thoughts. “My life has been threatened. I need to
tell you the truth about that night before it’s too late.”

     Hope stepped toward
him and gripped his upper arm. “Who has threatened your life? Why?”

     “There’s no time for
questions, just listen to me.” Patrick wiped a shaky hand over his mouth. “Back
then I promised myself I would stop gambling. I borrowed thirty grand from Case
to tide me over until my next job. Only I couldn’t stay away from the blackjack
tables. I flew to Vegas hoping to triple it and lost my ass.”

     Dread swirled
through Cullinan’s stomach as chilling as the breeze that blew around his body.
A brittle silence settled between them. He didn’t want to hear what Patrick had
to say next but he had no choice.

     Guilt filled
Patrick’s gaze. “If Jacob succeeded, Case stood to lose a bundle. I needed a
way out.”

     Hope shook her head.
“No, it was my fault. It was my job to research Case’s routine. I overlooked
something and cost Dad his life.” Her voice broke and tears sprang to Hope’s
eyes. “Case wasn’t supposed to be home that night.”

     Patrick’s brows drew
together in an agonized frown, his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes
glazed with sorrow. “I know. I tipped him off about the theft.”

     Hope’s skin paled
and she gasped.

     Bitter shock burned
through Cullinan. He looked at Patrick, a man he’d known his whole life, a man
he trusted implicitly, a man he realized he didn’t know at all. He lunged and
grabbed the lapels of Patrick’s coat. “You bastard! It’s your fault Dad’s
dead.”

     He screamed the
words, jerking hard enough to bring Patrick’s nose within an inch of his own.
“How could you betray him? You were his best friend.”

     Patrick squirmed
against Cullinan’s hold, his eyes panic-filled. Sweat beaded his brow. “I told
you I was desperate and scared.”

     The pleading tone in
Patrick’s voice sickened Cullinan. “I’m sure Dad was desperate and scared
too...right before he was murdered in cold blood.”

     Patrick’s hands
clamped over Cullinan’s and pulled hard trying to release his hold. “I was late
paying Case back. With all the accrued interest, my debt had grown to nearly
fifty grand. And Case was going to kill me if—”

     “Money,” Cullinan
sneered. “You did it for money. They dumped Dad’s body with his throat slashed on
the curb in front of our house like he was nothing more than garbage.” His
blood chilled as he remembered his father’s horribly white skin and lifeless
eyes where he had lain in a pool of his own blood.

     Tears welled in
Patrick’s eyes and his chin trembled. “I know, I’m sorry, but Case had a couple
of his goons pick me up that night. They said they were going to kill me if I
didn’t pay.” His face contorted with sorrow and guilt. “I’m a coward, I didn’t
want to die. In exchange for my life...I...I gave him Jacob.”

     Cullinan rammed a
fist into Patrick’s face.