With Honor (21 page)

“Did he say something in his interview?” he asked.

“Shawn, what part of
no
don’t you understand? I’m telling you, he said nothing.” She stood up.

“Then why does he say in his letter that I need to contact you? Tell me everything, from the time he walked into the interview to the point you woke up with him gone from bed.”

“No, that’s awkward.”

“Do you think I’m asking for some sick satisfaction? My brother could be dead. He names you as a contact person. Therefore, that puts you in the red light, and maybe danger.”

His tone raised and made the hair on her arms stand erect. He really believed her to be unsafe. “If I don’t know anything, how can I be in danger?”

He stomped across the room in three long strides, stopped in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. His grip wasn’t painful, but his fingers dug into her skin. “Listen to me, and listen well. My brother could have been killed. He either knew too much or too little. Whether he chose you, or you were at the right place at the right time, you are now neck deep in this case. Why didn’t Shane’s interview run?”

She stared into his eyes. They were dark and his expression was grim. “The piece didn’t run because the editor trashed it after the letter came in. Shane didn’t want to be a part of the article. I told you this already.”

“And you believe that shit? Why would a letter keep a story from being published? Did you see the letter? Did you ask questions?”

“I argued with the editor, Daryll. He refused to hear my defense, saying it wasn’t worth it.”

He removed his hands from her and she lost her balance. She quickly gained it back. “This guy, Daryll, had something to lose or to gain. We just need to find out what it was.”

“That’ll be difficult.” Meeting his questioning glare, she said, “He moved away.”

“Moved away? Where?”

“Quit, then disappeared.”

His jaw hardened again.

Then it struck her. “I guess that is odd.”

“Any idea where he bolted to?’

She hated to say it again. “No clue. But as a journalist with contacts, I can find out.”

One corner of his mouth curved. “Nice.”

“But don’t think for a minute I forgive you. That will never happen.”

“In time you will.”

The air whooshed from her lungs. Had he lost his mind? “You have too much confidence. You and your brother have managed to play me for a fool, and now I’m drawn into this circus.”

His broad shoulders sagged a bit. “I had my reasons. I’m hoping one day you’ll see that…maybe even realize that you’ll have new memories of him once the baby is born. I certainly didn’t have any intention of playing you.”

If only the floor would open up and suck her up from this horrible situation. “Could have fooled me. Oh, that’s right, you did.”

“Jasmine–”

Nope, she wouldn’t listen. “Don’t. Enough has been said. You lied to protect your brother. You lied out of obligation for your brother’s child. Are there any truths in this?” She heard his loud exhale of breath. That was her answer. She needed to get away, and her only solace in the small room was one place. “I’m taking a bath.”

* * * *

Shawn listened to the rustling inside the bathroom. His thoughts churned. The whole thing was a mess. He was completely torn in his emotions for Jasmine and he had to complete the investigation to move on. He couldn’t walk away.

Feeling sick to his stomach, he realized it’d been a while since he’d eaten. He wondered if Jasmine was hungry also. He would have knocked and asked, but thought against it. She needed some time to think things over.

Picking up the phone on the nightstand, he dialed room service. After he was done with the call, he lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The stark white kept his attention until he closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he’d lain there, or if he’d been asleep, but he snapped his eyes open at the sound of the bathroom door unlatching. Hearing light footsteps, he sat up just as Jasmine appeared in front of him.

Her complexion was pale and her hair damp. The pissed expression remained. Her eyes were still misty and red, and it tugged at his heart. He and his brother had done her wrong. What could he do? He wanted to make it right. How could he prove to her that his intentions had been good?

“Just to let you know, I made a few calls. Apparently Daryll was killed by a drunken driver while he was touring Tuscany. His death was investigated by detectives and considered an accident.” She tossed her phone into her purse.

“Do you think it was an accident?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know anything except that I’m lost in a mind maze.” Sighing heavily, she shook her head. “From what I could gather, Daryll had suddenly gained a large sum of money, around the same time the magazine piece with Shane was nixed. Total speculation here, but maybe he was paid to not run the piece. It makes no sense because nothing in that interview seemed odd or out of place.”

“How would anyone know unless they read the article? Someone didn’t want to take a chance. And, if it would have ran, then a lot of public attention would have been on Shane, whose plane had gone down by then.”

Her gaze slanted. “Could someone who knows about his accident have nixed the article to save the investigation?”

“If it’d been anyone that I know, they would have told me. Whoever did it feared a connection between something he’d said in the interview and to the person who engineered the plane going down. Hell, maybe the asshole behind this thought you would convince him to tell all, like some of those other big name journalist.”

“The only thing I got out of him was macho bragging and a night that ended with a baby. Other than that, I swear, he didn’t say anything or mention anyone’s name.”

“Do you still have the write-up?” he asked.

She shook her head, sending damp tresses of hair across her shoulders. “I handed it to Daryll and I never saw it again.”

He clenched his hands into fists. “Figures.” He could put his hand through a wall. Each time he got close to an answer a barrier came up. “If it wasn’t the interview, then they feared his connection with you.”

Her face paled and bottom lip trembled. “There was no connection, not during the interview. Not even after. We both needed sex, as crude as that sounds.” Her hand moved to her stomach. “Look, I know this is your brother and you want to solve his disappearance, but I need a moment to digest all of this. Can we, just for a while, stop talking about it?”

He understood. “Okay.”

Without another word, she moved past him. He checked her slender body. She’d lost some weight. The pale pink top and pajamas hung loosely on her. Bringing his gaze to her profile, he watched for a few minutes as she dug into her purse and withdrew a pill bottle. He recognized her prenatal vitamins. Blowing a long breath through his lips, he finally asked, “I’m sorry.”

“Actions are louder than words.” She didn’t even bother to look at him.

“You have reason to hate me, but I wish you’d reconsider.”

“Yes, I do and no I won’t.”

“You really mean that?” he asked.

“Maybe you should have thought about the consequences before.” There was no forgiveness in the tone of her voice.

He hadn’t expected warmer communication from her. He started to apologize when a soft knock sounded at the door. “I hope you’re hungry. I ordered a feast.” Damn, he hoped he ordered something she’d like.

Opening the door, he spotted a young man wearing a red and white service suit. He looked legitimate, Shawn thought. The man rolled the metal cart into the room and parked it next to the edge of the bed. “I hope the food is to your liking, sir.”

“I’m hungry and it’s grub. That’s all that matters,” Shawn said

The man handed Shawn a piece of paper. He took it, signed it and handed it back with a tip. “Charge this to my room.”

The waiter glanced down at the signature, and gave a quick professional nod. “Thank you, Mr. McKeever.”

Jasmine snorted. Yeah, he guessed he’d be the target of her irritation for some time. She could have at least appreciated his craftiness for sticking McKeever with a hefty bill. The door closed.

“I’d love to see the look on the bastard’s face when he checks out,” he said.

“You should get some self-satisfaction,” she said. Glancing across the silver trays and platters on the cart, she sighed. “Hmmm, what
grub
are we eating?”

Popping the lid to the largest one, he said, “Lobster. Or how about a salad? I think the menu said it has figs and some sort of soft goat cheese.”

She wrinkled her nose and held up her hand. “No fish, please.”

Lifting the next lid, a savory smell of spices made his mouth water. “Filet mignon?” Off with another lid. “Duck with deep fried something?”

With a quick shake of her head, her drying hair fluffed around her face. Even angry, she was lovely. He scolded his misbehaving cock. He had a feeling sex wasn’t on the menu and wouldn’t be for some time, if ever again.

“I’m not hungry.” She moved back to the bed.

Why should he care so much if she ate? He didn’t want to, but damn. He couldn’t control those flowery emotions that kept popping up and causing him to have a softer side. “I hope you don’t mind, but I told the woman at the desk that you were ill and asked if she had any ideas what I should order. She said she knew exactly what you needed, having been pregnant three times herself. Then she told me how she delivered early each time, and fifteen minutes later she finally said, ‘Soup.’” He lifted the lid to a small container and waved a hand over the steaming bowl of chicken noodle. “And crackers with cold lemon lime soda. The soup is the canned stuff, but it tastes just as good when you can’t hold anything else down.”

“I guess I could try.”

That was a start. That’s all he could ask for. “Having no idea what pregnant women eat when they are sick, I hated to order something and have you vomit again. And the lobster and steak was the most expensive thing on the menu that I could find. That is my going away gift for old Mr. Charmpants.”

Taking the bowl and grabbing a spoon, she took her meal to the chair. “I could think of a few things I’d like to do with him. A huge bill is only a start. I have that same feeling toward many people at this point.”

Shawn didn’t bother responding.

Chapter 17

Jasmine finished off her soup in silence. Feeling better, she wanted to thank Shawn for the thought, but she didn’t feel like she owed him anything, not even a sliver of kindness.

She did want to go home, though, wherever home was. His place didn’t feel like
home
any longer. Maybe she would plan to stay at a hotel until she could think clearer.

With her thoughts weighing heavily, she climbed into bed, alone. She knew Shawn wouldn’t make a move to sleep with her. For all she cared, he could go get his own room. Otherwise, the floor or chair would be his parking spot that night.

Snuggling under the blanket, she was exhausted but her mind wouldn’t shut down. Shawn’s rustling around on the floor annoyed her like fingernails across a chalkboard. She didn’t care. Tomorrow would be a new day. For her baby, she’d rise above and be the best possible parent.

* * * *

Jasmine was in the middle of a pleasant dream when she heard her name. She rolled over and protested with a groan.

“Jasmine, wake up.”

Lifting one eyelid, she moaned in agitation. Once the blurriness subsided, she saw Shawn standing at the side of the bed. The light was on. He was dressed, clean-shaven and a worried expression made him look older. Lifting on elbow, she momentarily ignored the fact that she wasn’t talking to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Get dressed. We’re heading home.”

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she questioned whether she heard right. The clock read an ungodly hour. “I’m not getting up now.” Blowing him off, she rolled back into the covers.

He stripped the blankets from her warm body. “Our flight leaves at seven,” he said gruffly.

“Good. Enjoy your trip.” She kept her eyes closed. Maybe he’d leave her alone and she could manage getting some sleep.