Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)(67)

Relief and hope warred in his mind, but he was still wary. It wasn’t like Erin to volunteer information without being asked. “I’d like that.”

As if she’d heard the doubt in his voice, she turned and scrutinized his face. Her shoulders slumped a little at what she saw there. “I didn’t kill him.”

“I knew that, sweetheart. You didn’t have to tell me.”

She sniffed. “It’s the why that matters, Connor. I didn’t kill him because of this.” She waved her hand between the two of them. “I can’t be who I used to be anymore. Neither can you.”

He knew mostly what she was trying to say, but needed to hear her clarify. “Explain that.”

“I never gave a shit before. I give a shit now.” She crossed her legs, making her boots jingle. “I wanted to do the right thing, but I didn’t even know what it was. You know how pathetic that felt? Standing there with a skillet in my hand, not understanding why I shouldn’t kill a man?”

Fury infiltrated his veins at the thought of her needing a weapon for a goddamn minute. At the thought of her scared. Needing to defend herself. He beat back the emotions, knowing he needed to listen. She needed him to listen.

“I need you to help me, Connor. Help me find the right way.” Her blue eyes implored him. “We’re better than him. What he did to me…we beat it last night. It’s gone for us. I know the second I’m not looking, you’ll go over there and make him pay. But I think I’m making him pay just by being happy, you know? You make me that way.”

His throat constricted. “What you make me feel goes so far beyond happy, Erin.”

Pleasure softened her eyes. “Good. So it’s settled.”

“No.” He shook his head regretfully. “I’m not ready to agree to that yet.”

Her expression fell. “Stubborn motherf*cker.”

“Yeah.” They sat quietly for a while. Across the street, the furniture movers unloaded a chaise longue that probably cost a year’s salary for most people. He knew they should talk more, but he needed to change the subject. If she kept flashing those blue eyes at him and saying shit that made his heart swell, he’d find himself agreeing to a promise he couldn’t keep.

As much as he wanted to be strong for Erin, he didn’t have it in him to let the man walk around free knowing his sole focus was on locking Erin up and taking her money. Over his dead body would that be happening. So at the very least, he would be paying the man a visit. A visit where the man would answer for what he did to Erin as a girl. Maybe that brought him down to the f*cker’s level, made him a villain. But the simple knowledge of knowing someone who had caused her untold agony was out there, walking around free and clear? It strangled him with helpless frustration. Erin thought it was pathetic that she didn’t know right from wrong? They weren’t so different. To him, wrong meant leaving her open to a threat. Nothing else.

Erin didn’t give him a chance to speak. She picked up the cell phone he’d bought for her that morning and hit one of the programmed numbers. “Hey, hacker. What’s the racket?” He almost smiled over the unique greeting she gave Polly, but the resignation in her voice stopped it in its inception. “We’re outside May’s house, watching a truck vomit fancy furniture all over her lawn. The furniture store is called Lazzoni. Can you get into their system and see how she paid? Credit card, bank account…”

Connor considered her a moment. The girl was so much smarter than she gave herself credit for. What kind of potential might she have reached if she’d been allowed to attend school? If she’d had the supportive family she deserved and gone to college?

“Yeah. We know she doesn’t have it in the bank records you pulled. If she’s hiding money, maybe Lazzoni can lead us to the end of the rainbow.” Erin hung up the phone and placed it back in the cupholder. “I kind of like Polly. Don’t tell her, though.”

“Why not?”

“It would mess with our dynamic.”

His lips twitched as he considered the scene across the street. Mrs. May was directing the furniture movers with one hand, holding a Chihuahua in the other. “Even if we find out Mrs. May is receiving money, it might not be traceable. I can’t imagine Stark has gotten this far without learning how to make cash invisible.”

“True. Even if we trace the money to Stark, Derek needs May to testify. He’s the only one who can prove Stark took the bribes.” She sighed and dropped her head back onto the headrest. “Where would be the last place anyone would expect May to hide?”

“With all the suspicion over Stark silencing May?” Connor scratched his chin. “The last place I’d expect to find him is living in Stark’s basement.”

Erin turned impressed eyes on him. “You read my mind. Not easy to do with all the caution tape and potholes I’ve got scattered in there.”

He bit his tongue against admonishing her. “How do we test our theory? And if you suggest climbing over the ten-foot-high gate surrounding his house and going in to investigate, let me rid you of that fantasy right now.”

“I’ve gotten in and out of worse.”

Connor clamped his jaw shut. It was either that or start shouting.

Erin winked to let him know she had no such plans, but he didn’t relax entirely. She had that familiar spark of mischief in her eye, telling him there was more than caution tape unfurling in her head.