Mine to Keep (Mine 2)
“Congratulations.” That was the right response, wasn’t it? From the sound of things, he’d taken a new job, so she was supposed to congratulate him.
Just as he should have congratulated her.
Alex’s gaze cut to Reese. “Can your guard give us a minute? We need to talk, alone.”
“I don’t think—” Reese said.
“It’s fine, Reese.” She walked toward him and patted his arm. “Why don’t you just go and—well, take a few moments to relax?” Right, like the guy ever relaxed. She’d sure never seen it.
One brow lifted, but Reese gave a curt nod. “If you need me, I’ll be close.” Then, after one last, measuring glance at Alex, he was gone.
Alex didn’t speak, not at first. After a few tense moments, he exhaled and asked, “Still under guard duty?”
Because she’d thought the exact same thing, Skye’s words held bite as she told him, “It’s just a precaution, only for a few days. We just wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any trouble from the press.”
“And the fact that Weston has a shitload of enemies? Deadly enemies? That has nothing to do with the bodyguard detail?”
His tone was scaring her. “You said you had business to talk about…” And he was homicide now. Oh, damn, this couldn’t be good.
“Does the name Ben Sharpe mean anything to you?”
Ben. The man’s face flashed before her. The feverish intensity of his eyes. The certainty in his voice.
He’s here. Watching. I know!
“You know him,” Alex said, apparently reading the truth on her face.
“We met last night,” she said as she rubbed at the knot of tension in the back of her neck. “Briefly.”
He stepped closer to her. “And was Weston there for this little meeting?”
“Ah, yes. He was. Trace and Ben knew each other from—”
The front door swung open with a creak. Her gaze flew to the door. She’d been sure that she locked it—
Trace stood in the doorway.
Of course, he’d have his own key.
“Griffin.” Trace bit out the cop’s name. “You moved fast.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Guess you heard, huh? Or did the bodyguard call you and tell you to haul ass over here?”
“I was just a few blocks away. I didn’t have to haul ass that much.” Trace closed the distance between them. He put his body next to Skye’s but kept his attention on the detective. “You shouldn’t be questioning Skye. She doesn’t even know Ben.”
Alex’s brow shot up again. “Really? Because she was just telling me that she did. Skye said that she met him last night, with you.”
The tension between the two men was palpable.
“What is going on?” Skye demanded as she threw her hands up in the air. “Why are you asking these questions about Ben?”
But she already knew. The twist in her gut told her the truth, and she didn’t really want to hear it. She didn’t want to hear Alex say—
“Ben Sharpe’s body was found this morning, tossed away like garbage in an alley.”
Her hands fell to her sides.
So it would seem that Ben hadn’t been so crazy after all. “He said someone was watching him,” she whispered.
“Did he now…?” Alex drawled.
Her knees were trembling. “How did you know we were connected to him?”
“It was pretty easy to follow the dots.” Alex inclined his head toward her. “The guy had a picture of you—some grainy shot torn from a newspaper—in his pocket.”
She’s your mistake, and she’s going to destroy you. Ben’s words replayed in her mind.
“And, of course, there was the business card.” Now Alex’s attention shifted to Trace. “Your business card, Weston. A card that was gripped tightly in the dead man’s hand.”
Her heart raced in her chest. “Wh-when did Ben die?”
“The medical examiner says it was last night, sometime between midnight and two a.m.”
Trace had been gone after midnight.
“Now…see…that’s not really the question that I expected you to ask,” Alex said, and his gaze was right back on her. “Maybe something like…how did he die? But jumping straight to when…that’s not what most folks usually do. Unless, well, unless they’re trying to work out an alibi.” He paused a beat. “Are you doing that, Skye? Are you trying to work out some kind of alibi?”
“Of course she isn’t,” Trace snarled. His fingers caught hers. Twined with them. Squeezed lightly. “We appreciate you notifying us of Ben’s death, Detective Griffin.”
“Cut the bull,” Alex suddenly demanded. “You and I both know I’m not here for some kind of notification.” He advanced on Trace until the men stood toe-to-toe. “What the hell is going on here, man? Did you have something to do with the guy’s death?”
Skye sucked in a sharp breath. Trace glanced back at her. He stared into her eyes, then he lifted her hand. He brought it to his lips and lightly kissed her knuckles. Her ring caught the light, gleaming even brighter.
Trace was still looking at Skye when he said, “No. I had nothing to do with Ben’s death.”
She had the feeling he was trying to convince her of that fact, not Alex.
“Don’t you want to know how he died?” Alex pushed.
Trace kept his hold on Skye’s fingers, but he looked at Alex once more. “How did he die?” Trace asked.
“Someone carved him up with a knife.”
Skye flinched. Instinctively, she tried to jerk her hand away from Trace. He didn’t let her go.
“What the hell was the guy doing in that alley?” The question erupted from Alex. “Why was he—”
“Ben Sharpe was a very disturbed individual. He suffered from severe PTSD. He had hallucinations, delusions.” Trace’s voice was flat. “And I’d recently learned that he had stopped taking his medications. My card…” He exhaled on a hard breath. “He had my card because I wanted to help him, not because I was the man who took his life.”
It felt like her thundering heartbeat was shaking Skye’s entire chest.
The floor creaked behind her, and she turned to see Reese standing there, watching them.
“And Skye’s picture?” Alex asked as he glared suspiciously at Trace. “Why’d he have that?”
Trace’s fingers tightened on hers. “I’m afraid that Ben would need to be the one to tell you about that.”
She’s your mistake, and she’s going to destroy you.
Alex watched them in silence. It was the thick and hard and uncomfortable type of silence.
Finally, Alex said, “Let’s just get this out of the way. I’m going to assume you were both together last night? She can alibi you, Weston?”