The Safe Bet (Hidden Truths #1)(78)
“I guess I’ll go talk to him myself.” He stood up from his desk. “Don’t go anywhere,” he warned before walking through the maze of desks and toward a closed room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
KATE PARKED HER CAR AND walked a block or so down the street to her brownstone apartment, feeling safe in the dark hour, even though she’d been attacked by Erick not too long ago. He was in custody, after all. They’d made the official arrest, which meant Michael should’ve been on his way back to Charlotte.
The detective never told her what Michael had said to him, but it must have helped since Erick was now in jail. She wished she could have seen him, though. She would like to have thanked Michael, at the very least—and had the chance to ask him what he was doing at the ball.
She felt like she was losing him all over again.
As she neared her home, she stopped a few feet away from the steps. Her heart plummeted into her stomach with no parachute—there was no saving her.
“Hi,” Michael said, looking up at her from the front stair.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. She stared at Michael. His hair stuck straight up like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. His jaw was tight, and his blue eyes looked pained. He was in a tuxedo. Only his tux was in pretty bad shape.
He rose to his feet and approached Kate, who was still standing before him, a statue. “You okay?”
“You’re here,” she muttered, toying with the straps of her purse.
He stopped inches from her. He pushed his hands into his pockets and swallowed. “Of course I’m here.”
“How’d you know where I live?” Stupid question. This was Michael.
He dipped his head down a fraction and looked up at her from beneath black lashes. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
“For which part? Saving me? Or spying on me?”
“I saw Erick’s wife a week ago.” He took a deep breath and continued. “She was stepping out of a limo alone, and I approached her. I asked her who she was, and then I saw her necklace.” He reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. “Here,” he said while handing her a photo.
Kate stared at the photo of her mom.
“His wife looked like you, and she had a necklace that resembled the one that was stolen from your mother.” He placed his hands in his pockets. “I did a little research, and I discovered that Erick had two other wives before this one. All of the women in his life had plastic surgery, becoming clones of your mother.”
Her mouth parted in shock. No wonder I never met his wife.
“I told the police that if they obtained the necklace, the serial number of the diamond would most likely match the one from the police report in regards to your mother’s murder.” He cleared his throat and took a step back.
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“But it looks as though you already figured out who Erick really was . . .” He removed his hands from his pockets and rubbed the nape of his neck. “I can’t believe you approached him like that—alone.”
She angled her chin up and studied him. “I guess I wasn’t alone after all.”
“I went to the police as soon as I had my suspicions about Erick, but they wouldn’t listen to me. So, I began following him. I didn’t want to tip him off. I was hoping to somehow catch him—but you beat me to it.”
“Well, thank you for rescuing me.” She bit her lip for a moment. “Again.”
“Am I too late?” His brows snapped together.
In what direction had their conversation just turned? The pain his absence had inflicted upon her tugged at her heart. “Too late for what?” Before he could answer, she added, “I appreciate you saving me.” A hot thread of anger coursed through her all of a sudden. “You kept your promise to find my mother’s killer, and for that, I’m grateful. But I’m not na?ve enough to believe that means that you wa—” He silenced her with a finger to her lips, closing the gap between them.
Michael, I can’t handle any more heartbreak.
“Kate, I’ve wanted you ever since you spilled your drink on me.” He removed his finger from her lips.
Startled, she moved backward a little, needing space from his overwhelming presence. “That’s not what I meant.”
“For more than just your body.” He wrinkled his brow. “Kate, can we talk inside? Please.” He moved forward, but she held up her hand, warning him back. “It’s cold. You’re shaking.”
She averted her attention to the soft, powdery coating of snow that must have fallen while she was being held at the police station. But she wasn’t shaking from the cold. “Michael, I gave up on the idea of you.” She wanted to cry as her gaze drifted upward over his creased tux.
He rubbed his palm against his own cheek. “I didn’t want to do this out here, but okay. I’m not giving up without a fight.” He released a deep breath.
She crossed her arms, feeling the chill despite her thick coat—or maybe she just felt cold from the loss of his touch. The simple grace of his finger to her lips had warmed her body.
“I told the military I’m not coming back.”
She remained silent, her thoughts a frenzied mess.