Brantley leaned forward. “Can you tell me whether she had other security in place when he was here?”
Kieran glanced between them, and it was obvious he was crafting his response carefully. “Why would that matter?”
“We’ve yet to determine whether Decker was actually working for the Kavanaghs or if he was here for personal interests.”
Kieran’s navy-blue eyes shifted between them before he finally said, “Yes. She had other security in place. Her brothers wouldn’t allow her to leave the house otherwise.”
Which meant Decker’s story didn’t hold up. Either Z had been misinformed, or he’d purposely misled them. Reese wasn’t sure why he would do the latter, but he wouldn’t put anything past Z. If Decker were working a case that Z preferred not to disclose, there was a good chance he would create a story that sounded good enough to believe upon initial inspection. But why? What would it gain him to send them chasing their own asses?
Problem was Reese wasn’t interested in doing his brother’s dirty work. He wasn’t interested in being left in the dark.
“Can you recall the last time you saw Deck?” Brantley asked Kieran.
“I want to say it was last week.” Kieran sat for a moment, clearly thinking. “Tuesday night, perhaps.” He glanced at the dance floor. “Saoirse was here with Mr. Nova. They stayed for a couple of hours, but I don’t think your friend stayed that long.”
“Did he talk to anyone else while he was here?”
“I truly can’t say. I interacted with Saoirse a bit, then had to take care of other matters.”
Reese asked, “Do you know if he left with them?”
“He did not. He left before them.”
“With someone?”
Kieran shook his head. “Not that I saw.”
Reese relaxed and exhaled heavily. That information didn’t get them any closer to finding Decker, but it did clarify a few things. Decker hadn’t been working as Saoirse’s bodyguard, and Ronan hadn’t hired him. So why the hell was he here, and what the hell was he up to?
Chapter Thirteen
Becs had been texting Evan throughout theday to check in. According to him, the slumber party had gone well. All the other girls had gone home around noon, but Sophia and Carly had continued to celebrate. They were camping out in their blanket forts again tonight, but thanks to an exciting day, they’d passed out early.
Although she was enjoying this trip to New York and the opportunity for a field assignment, Becs wished she were at Evan’s with him and the girls. She knew it was silly to form an attachment to him because he wasn’t going to give her what she needed, but she couldn’t help herself. It had been so long since she’d even dated a man. Even more, since she’d been with agoodman. One who wasn’t in the relationship while waiting for something better to come along. That was how she could describe her marriage and a couple of her relationships prior to that.
To say Becs didn’t have a good track record with men would’ve been an understatement. She was horrible at selecting them and even worse at making the relationship work. It was her fault, she’d been told. She was too selfish or too petty or toowhateverwould make the man she was with feel better. And while she could argue she wasn’t any of those things, Becs wouldn’t deny that she had a bad habit of acting as a doormat. Letting people walk all over her. She tended to find herself attracted to unreliable men. Since she was a teenager, she’d had a thing for bad boys. The problem with bad boys was that they weren’t capable of giving a girl like her the emotional stability she needed to be happy.
She’d promised herself she wouldn’t even consider a relationship with anyone until she found one who would treat her with respect, someone who would love her and her daughter. Someone who would make them happy.
Not that Evan was that man. But her imaginary version of him was.
Despite his emotional distance, Evan Vaughn was everything Becs had ever wanted in a life partner. And she’d spent plenty of years dreaming up the perfect man, the perfect relationship. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew neither was attainable, but a happily ever after certainly was.
Ten years ago, Becs would’ve turned her nose up at a guy like Evan. Her mother said she was a glutton for punishment. She wasn’t wrong. Becs had self-deprecating tendencies, never believing she was worth something more, something better. Hence spending years with an emotionally and sometimes physically abusive man.
As the cab pulled up to the hotel, Becs texted Evan to tell him she would be going to bed soon and that she was checking in one last time for the night.
His response came as she was in the elevator.
Call me when you get a minute. I need to tell you something.
She read the text message several times while walking the long, brightly lit hallway to her room.
She grinned at her reflection as she got ready for bed, washing her makeup off and brushing her teeth.
Her heart was practically beating out of her chest by the time she was crawling into bed. There was a flutter in her belly that made her feel both giddy and nauseous, not a particularly great combination.
Becs dialed Evan’s number and waited, holding her breath until he answered.
