And, yeah, he hated that.
“Where did you live before you rented this place?” he asked abruptly.
Any color had drained from her face. “Los Angeles. North Hollywood, to be exact.”
Truth, he thought. “Why did you move?”
“I wanted to raise Jacob someplace where we could get to know our neighbors, where he could safely ride a bike when he gets old enough. I spotted a listing for my current job online, researched the area and applied.”
That sounded reasonable, although he wondered. “Does Jacob’s father see him?”
Her back stiffened. “He didn’t want children and has no interest in Jacob.”
Now there, Seth thought, was a lie. “Where does he live?”
“LA.”
“His name?”
“Richard—” Anger flared in her eyes. “It’s none of your business. You can’t contact him!”
Her alarm was very real, but Seth reminded himself that there could be a lot of reasons for her sensitivity with the subject that had absolutely nothing to do with the murder he was investigating. If she’d been an abused woman, for example, he didn’t want to draw the abuser’s attention to her, or the boy. On the other hand, what if she didn’t have legal custody? That would explain some of what he was seeing, and it wasn’t something he could ignore as an officer of the law. One thing he did know: Jacob was her son. Their resemblance was unmistakable.
Right now, he’d lose her if he kept pushing.
“You color your hair,” he heard himself say.
She jerked back and lifted a hand to her head. “What makes you say that?” Her lips thinned as she realized she’d given herself away. “That really isn’t any of your business.”
No, it wasn’t, but he’d been intrigued by her creamy skin from their first meeting. She had a redhead’s complexion, freckles and a redheaded son.
“That was intrusive,” he agreed. “I apologize. You have beautiful skin, and it made me think—” Damn, he was stepping in it here.
Helen Boyd studied him from those gold-flecked caramel eyes that were every bit as pretty as her skin. Then she sighed. “Yes, I color my hair. I always hated being a redhead.”
“What about your eyebrows?” His mouth was running away from him.
“I...sometimes touch them up.” She blushed, something she must do easily with that skin.
For a minute that stretched too long, they stared at each other. He drank in the rare sight of her sitting absolutely still, her lips parted as if she’d been on the verge of speaking. Her chin, he couldn’t help noticing, was a little on the square, stubborn side.
She was the first to wrench her gaze away. “Are you done with your questions?”
“Yes.” Seth had to clear his throat. “For now.”
What had he been thinking? Coming on to a person of interest, if not a suspect, in an investigation was inexcusable. He had to get out of here, now, before he couldn’t resist touching her.
Helen didn’t even stand when he did, although when he reached the front door he realized she had followed, still keeping her distance. Seth opened the door and turned to face her.
“Let me repeat that I’m here to help, if you need it. You’re worried about something. I wish you’d tell me what.”
He might as well not have bothered to speak. She’d shuttered her expression and only waited. He’d go, but needed to be sure she’d taken seriously his concern about her security.
“Have you spoken to your landlord?”
“I left a message at the property management company, but I also called a locksmith. He’s supposed to be here at four to change the locks.”
“Good,” Seth said softly. He nodded and left.
* * *
HELEN LOCKED THE door then slumped against it, feeling so much she couldn’t identify.
Had any man ever looked at her like that?
Yes, the last time she was attracted to one. Richard.
His burning gaze had convinced her he wanted her desperately, loved her. She’d been such a fool, let herself be manipulated, controlled. Never again, she’d vowed. Not a vow she could afford to forget. So why was she getting weak in the knees because Seth Renner had implied he thought she was beautiful, had claimed she could depend on him?