Cursed (6 page)

“Keep digging. Find out who
Benedict’s friends are, his relatives, anybody who might know something.”

An image of Hope standing next to
her brother looking at Nick with those cool, violet eyes flashed into his mind
again. “He has a sister. Met her last night when she came into the shop.” 
He paused for a couple of beats. “Get this, she’s an A.D.A.”

The chief leaned back in his
chair and raised his brows. “No kidding. A suspect whose sister is a
prosecutor.”  He quickly moved forward when the phone on his desk rang.
“Keep on it, Morelli.”  He reached for the receiver, a clear signal the meeting
was over.

Nick grabbed his jacket, slipped
it on and left the chief’s office. Outside the temperature hovered around
fifteen degrees. Traffic moved slowly along Cherokee Street, the road still
slick from last night’s storm. The frigid air stung the back of his throat with
each inhalation and his breath huffed out in puffs.

He couldn’t wait for spring so he
could get started on his new landscaping project. Nick prayed that Sam would be
fully recovered by then and they could work on it together. He walked straight
to his unmarked Ford Mustang, climbed inside and cranked the engine. As the
car’s heater pumped out warm air, he reached for the cell phone in his pocket.

Nick punched the speed dial
button for the D.A.’s office. He needed to get close to Hope to learn as much
as he could about her brother. At least that’s what he told himself when he
picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hope Benedict.”

When he heard her voice, the same
shiver he’d felt race down his spine when he’d seen her in the antique shop happened
again, only stronger this time. A quiver he hadn’t felt for a woman in a long
time. It made him uncomfortable. “Hello, Hope. This is Nick Morelli.”

There was a short pause on the
other end of the line. He could hear a soft intake of breath before she spoke.
“Detective, what can I do for you?”

Nick settled against the back of
the car seat. “What are you doing for dinner?” He tried to sound casual.

“Ordering in...”

“I know this great little place
near Washington Park.”  He purposely ignored her statement. He’d learned
patience over the years from handling stakeouts, relentless court proceedings
and brutal cross-examinations. One reluctant A.D.A. was a piece of cake
compared to that. “It’s quiet, the food’s not bad. You’ll be home by nine. What
do you say?”

He felt her smile through the
phone line. “How long have you been a detective?”

“A few years, why?”

“Your skills at handling people
are sharply honed.”

“I’m not trying to
handle
you,
Hope.”

“Let me put it another way…what
do you want?”

“A chance to get to know you
better.”

There was a prolonged silence
while Nick waited for her to answer. “Why?”  Her voice was crisp and
lawyerly.

“I’m investigating your brother
and I’d like to have the opinion of someone who really knows him.”

“Oh.”  She drug out the word.
“For a minute I thought you were asking me out on a date.”

He shook his head. She was on to
him, no doubt about it. So be it. He planned to pump her for information about
her brother. Period. This was business and had nothing to do with how good she looked
or how sexy her voice sounded. Besides, he loved a good cat and mouse game. “I
don’t think you and I going on a date is a good idea since your brother is a
suspect in a crime. I just thought you might enjoy a friendly dinner.”

“If all you want is information,
why not drop by the office?” she suggested sweetly.

He smiled slightly at her
question. “My case load is backed up and I don’t have very much time during the
day.”

He listened to another moment of silence
before she spoke.

“Okay, tell me where and when.”

“Chez Morelli.”

“Your house?”  Her tone was
surprised.

“Yeah, you have a problem with
that?”

“No. Should I?”

Nick chuckled and gave her
directions. “I’ll see you at six. Sharp.”

* * * *

Hope hung up the phone, slumped back
in the chair behind her desk and smiled. She’d been trying to figure a way to
get more information from Morelli concerning the burglary case and his
investigation of Cullinan. The sneaky devil had dumped the opportunity right in
her lap. Morelli thought he would reel off a bunch of questions about Cullinan
and she would just fall in line…not a chance. Two could play at this game.

Chapter Three

Tess parked her SUV in front of Benedict
Antiquities and cut the engine. She sat for a moment with the weak winter sun
streaming in through her car windows. The slight warmth of the rays caressed
her neck, shoulders and face. She listened to the muffled sounds of the traffic
as vehicles lumbered along the street, ice and snow scattering beneath their
tires as they rolled past.

Slowly, she turned her head and
looked through the storefront window of Cullinan’s shop. A spurt of anger at
the man inside the store darted through her veins, but determined

to remain calm, she soothed it away.

She had learned to face many
challenges over the past couple of years. They had been far from easy, but
finding her own identity and making a new life for herself was part and

parcel of her plan for the future.

Tess leaned her head back against
the headrest on the car seat and sighed. Who the hell was she anyway?  She
didn’t have a clue. All she knew was that she had a long way to go

before she could truly stand on her own two
feet.

When she’d met and married Quinn,
he’d been a gregarious man and had helped her build her social skills so now
she was able to converse with people she hardly knew with comfort.

The biggest challenge she’d faced had been
being left alone. She’d gone from being cared for by her parents to being taken
care of by Quinn. Then suddenly, she found herself on her own. She’d refused to
go running back to her parents although they had offered.

After that horrible day when the
Twin Towers in New York City crashed down, the whole world seemed to take a
collective breath. Her husband had been one of those people unable to escape
the calculated destruction perpetrated by the terrorists.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

Then she’d found herself caught
in a current of events that moved slowly at first, like a leaf floating in a
stream. There had been so many things to take care of, notifying friends and
family about what had happened to Quinn, planning the memorial service and
taking condolence calls.

Despite the funds that paid out
significant amounts of money to the families of victims of the Twin Towers
tragedy, nearly all of what she had received was used to settle Quinn’s estate,
which was encumbered with debt. Her job at the department store helped put food
on her table until she could gather the money to start her own jewelry design
business.

Tess looked at the store window
again. She grabbed her purse and climbed out of the car. Now she had yet
another hurdle to face. Only this one was different, harder in some ways,
because it burst a bubble of illusion about Cullinan she’d reluctantly held on
to for years.

She’d learned since Quinn’s death
that you had to face your demons no matter how hurtful or scary they were. The one
she faced now only added to the pain. Along with the pain, a scalding anger at
Cullinan suffused her body, an anger she was determined to hold in check.

When she opened the door to the
shop, she didn’t see Cullinan; she heard only his voice wafting up from the
back of the store. The sound made something clench in her chest. She swallowed
hard against a sudden lump growing in her throat.

Don’t let him get to you. Think of what he’s
done instead
. Tess had
deliberately waited until the end of the day to come by and talk to him. She
wanted no one else to hear what she had to say. Only then could she turn and
walk away from Cullinan Benedict for the second time in her life--this time for
good.

Tess heard footsteps moving up
from the back of the store. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders as
if preparing to do battle. In a way she was. A battle with Cullinan, as much as
with herself.

When Cullinan saw her, he stopped
dead in his tracks. His eyes, eyes that she knew the exact shape and color of
fixed on hers. Surprise and affection swept over his face and his sexy mouth
lifted into a smile. He touched the customer who was with him on the arm, said
something and then started toward her.

Cullinan didn’t stop until he was
close, close enough for her to smell his skin, see the familiar wave in his
hair, the laugh lines around his golden eyes. A mixture of tenderness,
heartache and gall raced through her blood, but she refused to let him crawl
under her skin, not after what he’d done.

“Tess.”  Cullinan’s achingly
familiar voice washed over her. “It’s good to see you.” 

He started to move toward her as
if to give her a kiss on the cheek, but that she couldn’t bear. She stepped
back instead. “This isn’t a social call.”

Cullinan frowned slightly. “Okay,
just give me a minute to finish up with this customer and we’ll talk.”

He turned and strolled over to
his desk. She watched him walk across the room, the dark brown slacks shifting
over his legs and body, a body still as solid as it had always been. She
couldn’t help but notice the movement of muscle beneath his white shirt, the
confident ease with which he held himself. She’d never felt that kind of
confidence, not really, not even with Quinn telling her through all their years
of marriage that she should hold her head up high and be proud of who she was.

Tess shook away her thoughts and
spent the next few minutes just walking aimlessly through the shop, unable to
focus her attention on any of the pretty things in the store. When she heard
the bell tinkle over the door, she quickly headed back up front.

Cullinan stood next to his desk
waiting for her. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the chair the customer had just
vacated.

Suddenly, Tess was furious. How
could he be so casual knowing how he had betrayed her?  How could he stand
there looking gorgeous and relaxed when she was on the verge of coming unglued?
 How could he look at her without the slightest hint of guile in his
eyes? 

God, she wanted to scream at him,
but she was determined to address him rationally about his little stunt. She
inhaled a deep breath and tried to remember the lessons that Quinn had taught
her about dealing with people. He used the same strategies during social
functions that he used running his investment banking firm. He taught her how to
make people feel at ease, how to cover up one’s own annoyance, how to smooth
ruffled feathers.

Instead of sitting in the chair
behind his desk, Cullinan propped his tall, lean body against his desk and
gripped the edge with his large hands. He stretched his legs out in front of
him and looked at her. His penetrating gaze made her shift nervously in her
chair. “You look wonderful,” he said lightly. “How many years has it been?”

“Eight.”  Eight years, four
months, five days, seven hours and thirty-five minutes. She would never let him
know how hard it was for her to sit here and look at him. Look at the man that
she’d once loved, the man she’d given herself body, soul and heart to, only to
have her feelings crushed in the revelation of a terrible secret.

Cullinan folded his arms over his
chest. “I’m sorry about Quinn.” His voice was soft and sincere.

Briefly, she looked down at her
hands and laced her fingers together so they wouldn’t tremble with barely
suppressed anger. “I got your note a few days after the memorial
service.”  Her deceptively composed voice belied the turmoil of feelings
rushing through her. She raised her eyes to meet his. “Thank you.”

“I would have flown to New York
to give you some moral support but I didn’t think you’d want me there.”

Her stomach knotted at his words.
Oh, she’d wanted him there. She’d wanted him there to hold her, comfort her.
She’d wanted him there more than she’d wanted to take her next breath. Even
though Quinn had been aware of her lingering feelings for Cullinan from the
beginning, no way would she have asked him to rush to her side. Quinn wouldn’t
have liked it. She had loved her husband very much, but there was a piece of
her heart that would always belong to Cullinan. “No, I didn’t want, or need you
there.”

He lifted his chin slightly and
inhaled as if shocked by her statement and then carefully he covered his face
in a neutral expression. “You said this wasn’t a social call. Why are you
here?”