Wilde at Heart (28 page)

Mallory was silent for a beat, then shook his head. “Ah, that’s something you’ll have to ask him. Suffice it to say, you had the means and opportunity. Shelby was supposed to discover whether you had a motive as well.”

“And did you find one?” he asked Shelby directly.

“No,” Mallory said before she could speak. “But we think you do have employees involved in this. Like I said, the money trail stops with your company. We’ll need access to investigate further.”

“You should have saved yourself a lot of trouble and come to me first.” Reece stood. “I’ll talk to my lawyers, and we’ll cooperate with your investigation in every way we can.” After he did some digging of his own. If someone he’d hired—someone he put his trust in—had been using his company as a front, he was damn well going to find out about it. “But for now, you need to leave.”

The agent stood. “I’ll be in touch, Mr. Wilde.”

Yeah, he had no doubt.

“You did good, Shelby,” Mallory added, squeezing her shoulder.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Just…go.”

Mallory’s features tightened as his eyes tracked back and forth between the two of them. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something more, but then must have thought better of it because he closed it again without making a sound and left.

For a long moment after the door closed, neither of them spoke. Reece didn’t think he could with the hard lump lodged in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Shelby finally whispered.

“Yeah, that’s not going to cut it.”

“I didn’t want any of this. They’ve had me under their thumb since I was twenty-three years old and—I just wanted out. Buying The Bean Gallery was an attempt to escape that world, but then it burned down and—and I realized I’d never escape. Not really. Not until ATF lets me go. Jason promised this was the last thing I had to do for them, then they’d erase all of my records, and that would be it. I’d be free.”

“And you believed him?”

She swallowed. “I wanted to. I don’t want that life anymore. All I want is to make my sister proud of me. And to make you happy. I love seeing you happy and the sex is amazing and I love living with you and having you write me a note every day and…” She paused to take a breath and stayed silent for so long he turned to face her again. Tears poured down her cheeks.

His throat was tight and he could barely squeeze any words out. “And what?”

When she said nothing more, he asked, “How long have you been spying on me? Since we first met?”

“No!”

“That night at The Bean Gallery?”

She shook her head. “It was that night, but Jason approached me after you left.”

“He was there?”

“I had no idea. I swear. They already had surveillance on you, and when they saw us together…” She trailed off. “I thought they were done with me until then because I’d cut ties with The Headhunters after my father went to prison. But Jason just keeps finding ways to drag me back.”

He grunted. “So everything in Vegas was staged?”

“Not everything. I just…wasn’t ever in any danger.”

Rage boiled in the center of his chest. He honestly couldn’t remember a time he was this pissed off. “You’re an excellent actress, I’ll give you that much.”

Her gaze dropped to her hands knotted in her lap. “I’ve had to be to survive.”

He pressed his lips together to keep from saying something he’d regret. He wished he had Vaughn’s ability to freeze out all emotion, because he didn’t want to feel for her, couldn’t let himself feel for her anymore. She’d brought this on herself, just as Eva had warned him she would. Should have listened, should have used the head on his shoulders rather than the one between his legs.

He stalked toward the door. “I’m staying with Dylan tonight.” He couldn’t face his brothers yet. “Tomorrow, I have to leave town for a few days, but first thing Monday morning, I will be at the courthouse applying to have this marriage annulled.”

That lit a fire under her ass and she sprang to her feet, capturing his arm before he reached the door. “You said you wanted to see if we can make it work.”

“That was before I knew you were lying about everything.”

“Not everything! I love you, Reece.”

“You don’t know the first thing about love.” He expected her to flinch, had calculated the barb to sting. And by the way she momentarily squeezed her eyes shut, he guessed he’d hit his mark. But there was no satisfaction in it. Only more hurt, for both of them.

Shelby didn’t stay hurt, though. Color infused her pale cheeks and she let go of his arm, shoved him. “And you know all about love, is that right? You don’t even know who you are! You can’t love somebody until you love yourself.”

“Then it’s a good thing I was wrong about loving you.”

She sucked in a sharp breath and backed up a step. If he had gutted her, he thought he’d see less pain in her expression than he saw now and, despite his anger, part of him wanted to go to her, soothe away the hurt he’d just caused. Because of that, he continued to the door.

“That’s not true. I know that’s not true,” she said behind him. “You’ve spent your entire adult life pretending to be this unfeeling, uptight asshole, and you’re not. You’re not that guy. Why can’t you let the real Reece out? Why not do something wild and crazy and illogical for once and take a chance?”

He glanced back over his shoulder. “On you?”

“Yes! On us.”

“Because that’s worked out so well for your sister all these years. Every time she’s taken a chance on you, it’s blown up in her face.”

She flinched. “It’s not the same.”

“Yeah. It is.” Rubbing at the ache blooming right where his heart should be, he opened the door. “When I come home Saturday, I want you gone.”

“Reece.” Her voice broke. “Please don’t do this to us.”

“I’m not the one doing it,” he said and closed the door behind him, blocking out her sobs.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A
lthough returning to her sister’s house with Poe’s cage in hand and tears splotching her face felt a little—okay, a lot—like defeat, Shelby had no place else to go. So here she was, standing on the front stoop, praying she wouldn’t be turned away.

Eva opened the door and just stood there, unmoving, staring through the screen, disappointment in her eyes. How many times had this scene played out over the years? Dozens. She was the yo-yo sister, always bouncing back after a bad breakup or quitting yet another job.

God, she sucked at life.

Finally, Eva heaved out a sigh and stepped back. “I haven’t touched your room.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and shut the door behind her. She set Poe’s cage in its usual spot on a table near the door. “It will only be for a few days this time. I’ll find my own place.”

“Ugh, that’s not the point, Shelby.” Exasperation in her every move, Eva scrubbed her face with both hands, dragged her fingers through her dark hair, and tugged on the strands. “You shouldn’t have lied to Reece. Shouldn’t have married him, knowing you were lying. Shouldn’t have made me make the choice between keeping your father’s identity a secret or telling my husband. You know how much that sucked?”

“I know. I’m so sorry. I hope you and Cam didn’t fight about it.”

“We did.” She dropped her hands to her sides and her shoulders slumped. “I just…I really wish you’d tell me the whole truth. It’s always lies and half-truths and it’s like walking through a minefield, waiting for one to blow up on me. I’m exhausted by it, Shelby. I don’t know how you aren’t.”

Shelby swallowed, trying to ease the tension in her throat. “I am. I’ve wanted to tell you everything so many times, but I couldn’t. Didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Not really.” Sucking in a fortifying breath, she met her sister’s gaze. “For the past six years, I’ve been a snitch for the ATF. It was my information that put my father in jail.”

Eva blinked once. Again. She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged for a good thirty seconds. “Excuse me?”

“That’s why I had to lie to you. If anyone ever found out I was the one who snitched, I’d be dead.”

“Oh…Jesus Christ.” Eva paced away, hands carving into her hair again. She held it back from her face for a long moment, then let it drop and whirled around. “I’m not
anyone
, Shel. I’m your sister! You should have—”

The doorbell rang and they both froze.

“Are you expecting company?” Shelby whispered.

“No.” Eva slid over to where her coat was draped across the back of the couch, found her holster, and unhooked her gun. Then she moved soundlessly to the window and peeked out. Her spine straightened. “It’s that guy Mom had with her in Vegas.”

Shelby went to the window on the other side of the door. It was the same man, but now he was dressed in business casual—trousers, shirt, blazer, no tie—under a long trench coat. A scarf hung loosely around his neck, the ends flapping in the January wind. At his feet was a large cardboard box. He must have noticed her moving behind the curtain because he picked up the box and turned toward the window, tilting it to show her what was inside.

She gasped. “He has Reece’s laptop.”

Eva didn’t put away her gun, didn’t even bother hiding it as she opened the door. “Can I help you?”

He nodded once, a quick up-down jerk of the chin. “My name is Miles Weiss. We met briefly at your wedding.”

“I remember. Why are you here?”

He looked past Eva at Shelby. “I’m returning some things that belong to you.”

“How did you get them?” Eva demanded before Shelby had a chance to open her mouth.

Weiss push out a long breath. “It’s a complicated story.”

“We have time.”

He set the box down, nudged it forward with his foot. Eva didn’t so much as glance at it and crossed her arms over her chest.

Shelby bent down and did a quick inventory, her heart jumping into her throat when she opened a small padded envelope and found her ring. “Everything’s here.”

“Well?” Eva said.

Weiss smoothed a hand over his silver hair. “Listen, I was just doing my job. Your husbands are private investigators too. They know how it is.”

“You’re a PI?”

“Yeah, and I was hired to dig up dirt on her husband.” He motioned to Shelby with his chin. “First time I saw them together the night that coffee shop burned down—and after I watched the surveillance video before giving it to my client—I figured she was the best way to get close to him.”

“And you thought what better way to get close to her than through her mother,” Eva finished, her lip curling.

“Only I didn’t know how fucking insane Katrina is,” Weiss said. “When I realized it, I broke it off. That afternoon, she shows up at my door with all this stuff, begging me to take her back, saying she can help me. Didn’t take long to figure out the laptop was hot, or who it belonged to.” He shook his head. “Batshit crazy woman.”

Shelby stood, and her stomach rolled over in disgust. For such a handsome man, he was an ugly, ugly person. “And it took you this long to return everything?”

He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, I had to track you down.”

“Right,” Eva muttered. “You’re an unethical jackass, and I should report you, have your license stripped.”

He dropped his hands. “I don’t want any trouble now. I was just doing the job I was hired for.”

He turned away but Shelby wasn’t about to let him leave without more answers. She shouldered past her sister. “Who hired you? Lena?”

He snorted out a disbelieving laugh. “I don’t know anyone named Lena, but if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Client privilege.”

Wait. It
wasn’t
Lena?

She grabbed his arm hard enough to spin him around on the icy steps. “If you don’t want my sister riding your ass—and believe me, you don’t—then you
will
fucking tell me.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“I
was an idiot,” Reece muttered and knocked back the two fingers of Maker’s Mark Dylan had poured him. They sat in the living room of Dylan and Alicia’s townhouse, surrounded by the antiques passed down through Dylan’s wealthy family and the expensive artwork that Alicia collected. It was a home, a place where two people had melded their personal styles into something welcoming and cozy. He’d been on his way to that with Shelby and her crazy pillows and paintings and…

Fuck.

“You look like hell,” Dylan said and leaned forward in his seat to grab the bottle of whiskey. He held it out in offering, and Reece shook his head. His stomach was too sour, and the alcohol wasn’t settling well.

“I feel like hell.”

Dylan nodded and refilled his own glass. “You can stay here as long as you need, buddy.”

“Just for tonight,” Reece said. “I have a couple home security installations in Virginia Beach. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Maybe you should reschedule.”

“No.” Now more than ever, he needed to work.

Dylan gave a half laugh. “That’s what I figured you’d say—hell, it’s what I’d say in your shoes—but as your friend, I was obligated to pitch the idea.”

“Dammit!” Alicia’s voice floated out from the kitchen, and she appeared a second later, hands on her hips. “Hon, where are the tomatoes I asked for?”

“I got spaghetti sauce.”

She pushed out an exasperated sigh. “I am
not
making your mother’s lasagna recipe with canned sauce. If she found out, I’d never hear the end of it.” She pointed to the door. “Grocery store. Now.”

Dylan groaned, set aside his glass, and stood. “Look on the bright side, buddy. An annulment means no wifezilla ordering you around.”

Alicia swatted him as he passed her on his way to the door. “I wouldn’t have to order you around if you did things right the first time. I swear,” she said to Reece. “I gave him a list. How do you screw up a list?” Then, noticing the bottle of Maker’s Mark on the coffee table, she clucked her tongue and scooped it up. “Drowning yourself in alcohol will not solve anything. You should go talk things out with Shelby.”

“We’re past the point of talking things out.”

“Men.” Alicia shook her head and turned to go back into the kitchen. “If you want something to drink, I’ll make you coffee.”