“What are you going to do?” he asked gently.
What was she supposed to do?
She shrugged, wiping at her tears again. “I’m really mad at you, too,” she informed him, her voice hoarse from the tears she’d shed. “I’m not a baby, Dawg. You could have told me, and I would have stayed away from him.”
“Would you have?” Gentle amusement filled his voice. “You knew him so well you didn’t know he was working something?”
“Of course I did.” Indignation filled the tears. “I knew he was working something, but I thought he was doing the surveillance.”
“What surveillance?” Drawing back, Dawg stared at her in surprise as she wiped at her tears again.
“The surveillance on Judge Kiser.” She sniffed again.
“Who has surveillance on Judge Kiser?” He frowned, obviously either unaware of the surveillance or trying to hide his knowledge of it.
“I don’t know who does.” She shook her head. “It’s not like they introduce themselves, Dawg.”
“How do you know about it then?” he demanded instead, frowning back at her.
Maybe he didn’t know about it.
“I heard Jed outside the other night.” She had to smile at the thought of it. “You can’t convince these city boys how sound travels at night, can you? He was around the side of the house talking on his cell phone about the surveillance on Judge Kiser. Do you think it has anything to do with his connections to the Freedom League?”
“He’s connected to the Freedom League?” Dawg was trying to hide his shock.
“Damn, Dawg, I thought you knew everything that was going on.” She actually managed a laugh.
Dawg shook his head. “How’s Kiser connected to the Freedom League?”
She actually sat back and stared at him in surprise. “You really don’t know about this, do you?”
“I really didn’t know about this,” he agreed, disbelief echoing in his voice.
“Oh, well, maybe you’d better check into it.” She smiled back at him, though it was short, and she knew it.
Turning her gaze to her lap once again, she watched as she twisted her fingers together.
“I wish I could fix this,” she whispered, her tears finally no longer falling. “I wish I could go back and understand things better. I would fix it.”
“How would you do that?” he asked softly.
“I would have stayed away from him,” she insisted, looking up to meet the somber compassion in his gaze. “It was my fault, Dawg. It wasn’t his.”
The shake of his head was followed by his strong arms wrapping around her as he pulled her to his hard chest. “It wasn’t your fault either, little sister. It wasn’t your fault either.”
Dawg stared across the living room, glaring at the wall, fighting to hold back the anger brewing inside him. He’d grown, he realized. Christa had actually managed to mature him a little bit, because he wasn’t storming out to kill the little bastard. He was still sitting here, comforting his sister and considering the best way to handle the situation.
His best bet, though, was to kill the little bastard.
Or at least beat the shit out of him.
Unfortunately, he had a very bad feeling he was going to have to settle for a forcible discussion with Mr. Campbell.
A very forcible discussion.
SEVENTEEN
Entering the inn through the front entrance the next day, something she rarely did, Eve started toward the stairs that led to the main residence, and her mother’s rooms.