Dirty Thief

“If it’s possible to keep the queen regent out of this, I want to do it,” I say.

“How did she get my gun?” André is bewildered.

“How did you not know your gun was missing is more like it.” Cal’s voice is furious.

“I thought I’d left it in my flat.”

I hold my phone, studying the chief inspector’s contact information. “I will take responsibility for killing Vega. The injuries to the queen are evidence enough it was a justifiable homicide. I think we can trust him to keep it out of the tabloids.”

“If the chief knows this man attacked the queen, that will be the end of it,” my brother says.

Pressing my lips together, I nod. I hope that’s how it works out. At this point, we only have one way to know, but I’m not doing anything until I talk to Ava and have answers.

Chapter 28

Ava

Rowan is beside me in our bed. His strong arms surround me, and the trembling and panic have slowly subsided. Dr. Klein checked me thoroughly and declared my injuries minor. The baby is so small, none of what happened tonight will make a difference, she said. All that’s left is explaining why I left the palace.

“The way he messaged me, the things he said…” I don’t know if I can ever fully explain why I did what I did. “It was so personal. I had to go back and try to avenge the little girl he hurt.”

“I was already determined to avenge your past,” Rowan says, and I tighten my arms around him.

“I didn’t know.” My eyes heat, and I’m so grateful.

“Why did you think you could confront him yourself?” I hear the frustration in his voice, and I search again for some reason that will help him understand.

“He was the monster under my bed. Wherever I went, for the rest of my life, he would always be there waiting to come back. Even here, in this beautiful palace with you, he found a way to get to me.”

Rowan inhales deeply, and I feel him kiss the top of my head. “I’m going to have to tell the police inspector something. I have to account for the gunshot wound.”

My lips press together, and I nod. “I’d like to go with you.”

* * *

Franc Calais sits across the enormous wooden table in the war room, a serious expression on his narrow face. Rowan is at the head of the table, and Cal is to his right. Freddie and André stand at the back wall.

“This is the weapon?” Calais’s accent is thick, and he uses a pencil to lift André’s gun. A glove covers his hand.

“Yes, sir.” André steps forward. “I saw him lunge at the queen regent, and I shot in an attempt to keep him from hurting her.”

“I see.” The chief nods. “And why was the queen regent in the park after hours with this man?”

“He threatened one of my orphans. He wanted money, and I thought I could catch him admitting it on tape.”

“Hm…” The chief looks around the room. “Such evidence is not always permitted in court. You should know this.”

“He admitted to killing the two women whose bodies were found,” I add softly.

“Oui, majesté, we are running the DNA evidence now, but that still doesn’t explain how the man ended up dead, his neck broken.”

Rowan answers for me. “As you can see, he attacked my wife. I guess I took matters into my own hands.”

“A crime of passion,” Calais says.

“He saved my life,” I add.

The chief stands and inhales loudly. “I think we can take it from here. As you have requested, I don’t think we will have to bring the queen regent into this matter. It is clear she was involved in no wrongdoing.”