Chris sat back with a smug expression. “He’s a rich, powerful man. Rich, powerful men get away with things all the time. It’s the law of capitalism. It’s especially an issue when those rich, powerful men have ties to men who are richer and more powerful.”
And now he’d referenced the mob. I sat forward, tense, wishing I could stop listening, but needing to hear just exactly what the idiot was saying.
“What sort of connections are you implying?”
“I can’t comment on that.” Good Chris. Stop there. He didn’t. “But people who live outside the law.”
“Like government people?”
“No. Wrong type of outside the law. I’m talking about the type of organized people that deal specifically with crime-oriented situations.”
I cringed. She was going to keep asking until she got something. That’s the way those interviewers worked. Did he not know anything?
Sure enough, her next question was, “Like the mafia?”
I gasped. Fuck. Just… fuck.
Finally Chris’s expression grew wary. “I’ve said too much already. Let’s just say Reeve Sallis is not innocent. End of story.”
Frustrated did not begin to describe how I felt at the moment. Angry was closer. Pissed off. Also, frightened. If Chris kept blabbing his big mouth, he was going to get himself in trouble. Hadn’t he learned anything from Missy’s death? And there was no telling how long it would be before his reasons led back to Joe. Back to me. Back to Reeve. I wasn’t just standing on the sidelines – I was in the thick of it. His time in the spotlight could very well come at a price, and who’d have to pay it?
I doubted it would only be him.
It was too upsetting to watch further. I searched for the remote, but couldn’t find where I’d flung it, so I crossed to the TV and switched it off manually before I heard more.
When I turned back, I was startled to see Reeve at the mouth of the room. He was wearing a dark blue suit, his tie loose, his jacket unbuttoned.
Without thinking, I smiled. I might have been anxious about Parker’s words, but in this moment I realized it wasn’t the emotion that weighed heaviest on my heart. I’d missed Reeve. Truly missed him. More than I wanted to admit to him or myself. I was two seconds from rushing into his arms, whether he expected it or not.
Except, then I noticed his narrowed eyes and hard expression. They told me he’d heard at least part of the interview. He wouldn’t automatically assume I’d known about the whole thing, would he? I mean, I did, but there wasn’t any reason for him to know that. And I certainly hadn’t known Chris was going to take the information we’d figured out together and blast it all over national television.
Reeve had assumed things about Chris and I before, though. Would it be far-fetched to think he wouldn’t now?
God, I wasn’t sure. But tension flared from him like a heat storm, rolling through the room like flashes of lightning.
I crossed my arms, suddenly chilled. Hoping I was being paranoid, I decided to play cool, pushing my lips into a smile. “You’re back early. I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”
His eyes pierced and pinched me. “Do you think I did it?”
“Did wh—?” It was halfway out before I realized what he was asking. I closed my mouth, unsure how to answer, not prepared to lie. Not prepared to tell the truth.
He repeated his question, his voice even and eerily controlled. “Do you think I did it?”
I didn’t flinch. “Did you?”
He closed his eyes a second longer than a blink and his shoulders sank ever so slightly. When he opened them, he asked with disdain, “Does it matter?”
“What does that mean?” Of course it mattered. His answer mattered very much.
“It means that people seem to make up their mind without caring if it’s the truth or not. I didn’t take you for one of those people. I guess I was wrong.” He turned and headed out of the room.
I flew after him, throwing words at his back. “Why the hell would you make that assumption? Because you walked in on me watching an interview? That wasn’t me saying those things. It was Chris.”
“Chris, who is your friend.”
“That doesn’t automatically mean I subscribe to his beliefs. I have my own thoughts and opinions too.” It wasn’t exactly an honest argument on my part. I did subscribe to the belief that in some way Reeve had contributed to Missy’s death.
But only in my head. My heart held out.
“And when I asked you your opinion you answered with a question.” Reeve climbed the stairs toward the bedrooms, taking them two at a time. “Hardly seems like you have your own opinion on this particular matter, does it? Or if you do, you’re not willing to share it.”
I followed him, trotting up the steps to keep up with him. “I don’t know the answer. Which means I don’t share Chris’s opinion. And it’s why I asked you. So that I don’t just assume.”
In his suite, he threw his jacket on an armchair and began undoing his cufflinks.
I stopped just inside the door. “Is this because it was Chris I was watching? Because you’re jealous?”
“Chris has nothing to do with this.” He tossed his cufflinks on the nightstand and then spun toward me, his eyes blazing with rage and hurt. “It was the wrong answer, Emily. You should have said no.”
“What?” I was as surprised by his sudden burst of rage as I was by his words.
“You heard me.” He pulled at his tie to remove it and from his stance, from his tone, it wasn’t crazy that it crossed my mind that he might use it on me.