“We don’t know and over there,” Helia answered, pointing to where the birds still circled.
Harry cursed under his breath and started forward, but Monk put a staying hand on his arm. “The police are on their way. It’s best if we stay here.”
Harry wanted to argue; Monk saw it in his posture. But in the end, he nodded and wrapped an arm around Vanessa.
Helia stepped in front of him, putting her back to her parents. Heat flooded his body, sudden and strong, when she set her hands on his chest. He covered hers with his, more to steady himself than to keep hers there. “Who’s the third?” she asked. “The third murder?”
Her parents had moved off to sit on a bench in the filtered sun, leaving them space. Helia’s fingers curled into his shirt. He tried ignoring her scent as her warmth wrapped around him.
“Kendall thinks Roger was murdered,” he said, the ugly statement dousing the simmering heat between them. Her eyes widened. Lifting a hand, he set a finger across her lips to stop whatever she’d been about to say. “I don’t doubt what she heard, but I don’t know if it’s the full story. And since Roger was cremated, we may never know.”
“What did she hear?” Helia asked, her lips moving under his touch. Mesmerized by the softness against his work-roughened skin, he traced the cushion of her lower lip. Her pupils dilated and her tongue darted out, the tip grazing his finger. Lust exploded through him swift and consuming, sucking the breath from his lungs. Her fingers curled into his shirt, clinging to him. His body wanted nothing more than to carry her off somewhere private, somewhere they could do all the things they’d done as teenagers. All the things that would be so much better than he remembered.
And he remembered often. Helia had been and would always be the only woman he ever wanted. She’d cemented her place in his life years ago. Not by doing anything as cliché as “slipping through his defenses.” No, she’d given him her love, her support, and the space tochooseto let his defenses down. His choice. A freedom his father had taken from him that she’d given back.
Harry coughed, and Monk pulled his gaze from Helia. The primal beast inside him roared at the broken connection, but the scared, injured child also buried inside him breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t ready to go there with her again, not yet. As much as his body craved her, his mind, and heart, carried too many questions. He needed to be sure that what he felt now—what they felt—wasn’t just a remnant of who they’d been.
He took a tiny step back, not out of reach, but enough to let the cool morning air fill the space between them.
“She heard a man and a woman talking,” he said, answering her question. “After they took Roger’s body away, I guess somepeople stayed in the house to clean up, knowing it would be shut down for a while. She never saw them, but she heard a woman say that ‘it finally worked,’ and ‘who knew it would take so damn long.’ The man asked if she was sure ‘it would be undetectable’ in the autopsy. She assured him it would be.”
“What the hell was Kendall doing there in the first place?” she demanded. He wouldn’t lie, he liked that her first concern was for the young girl.
“Her mom liked Roger’s parties. She left her there after the last one. I’m guessing it was a week or so before he died. Kendall swears she’ll be back.”
“Her mom’s done this before.”
Not a question, but Monk nodded.
“How old is she? The look in her eyes is far older than I’m guessing she is.”
“Twelve.”
Helia winced. “Jesus.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“Is there any way we can find her mom without alerting the police?”
“I’m trying, but I don’t know her last name or her mom’s name.”
“You didn’t want to push,” Helia said.
Again, he nodded. “I told her I have friends who can help find her mom under the radar, but I didn’t force the issue. I’m hoping she’ll eventually trust me enough to share those names so I can pass them on.”
Helia patted his chest, but her eyes were on the vineyard, her mind somewhere else entirely.
The sound of tires on the drive had all four turning. Helia’s hand dropped from his body—a contact he sorely missed—but she didn’t move far.
Two police cars pulled into the courtyard, Harry directing them where to park. By the time the four officers were out of their vehicles, a third arrived with Jess behind the wheel and Carter beside her.
Helia shifted to his side, her fingers gently brushing his. Not letting himself think of the consequences, he wrapped his hand around hers.
“Harry, what can you tell us?” Carter asked, striding over as the officers collected gear from the trunks of their cars.
“Nothing,” Harry said. “Helia and Collin found it,” he added, regret heavy in his voice. As if he wished he could take this on himself rather than leave it to him and Helia.
Carter and Jess eyed them. Both detectives dropped their eyes to his hand closed around Helia’s as they approached.
