“Well, that makes sense.” He recalled Holt’sRapunzelstory from the other day.
“I can tell you right now,” Violet stated firmly, “Travis won’t like this.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s sensitive to…” She fluttered her hand toward the article about Kylie’s death.
That made sense. However, Simon would have to tackle it if he hoped to get the information he needed. He would have to have access to the people who knew what had happened back when Meredith left.
“Why would Holt care?” Violet asked, accusation heavy in her tone. “Kylie and Jessie are …were… whatever. They’re estranged from their mother. Why bring this up now?”
Simon knew Holt believed that everything that happened to Kylie Walker had happened for a reason. The problem was Simon didn’t see the correlation. There were hard and true facts about what happened to Kylie. Eyewitnesses right here in town who saw the woman who hit her with her car and then took off. There was no question in anyone’s mind who was responsible for Kylie’s death. And because Juliet Prince had religiously writtenher thoughts in a journal, the police even had her motivation written in her own words.
Yet Holt was insistent there was more to the story.
Until he could see the picture Holt was trying to paint, Simon wasn’t willing to admit that. Certainly not to the people who cared about Kylie and her family.
“That’s the question of the hour, I guess.”
Violet took another step back, this time moving toward the door. “If you ask me, I think Holt should stick to writin’ fiction and leave this”—she waved her hand toward the wall—“alone.”
Simon appreciated her opinion. Oddly enough, her abrupt response only made him want to look into it more.
“You aren’t gonna leave it alone, are you?” she asked, hesitating in the doorway.
He stopped directly in front of her and reached for the light switch. “I don’t know.”
The room went dark behind him, but Violet didn’t move out of the way, so he was forced to stand there, staring at the most uniquely beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Her silky, shoulder-length hair was such a rich, dark brown he wondered if it was natural or came from a bottle. Her eyebrows were thick and perfectly shaped, and the thick fringe of her lashes accented those big, mocha-brown eyes. Her nose was narrow and adorable, as was her chin and the slight dent he saw occasionally.
But for him, the most mesmerizing was the warm, olive tone of her smooth, flawless skin and her heart-shaped lips.
As he stared, those succulent lips started to move.
“Does that mean you’re not goin’ back to Dallas?”
He smiled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were tryin’ to get rid of me.”
Violet crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t care one way or the other.”
“No?”
She pursed her lips. “Nope. Why would I?”
He inched closer until there was hardly space between them. “I don’t know. Why would you?”
Her eyes widened as her head tilted so she could hold his stare. “I wouldn’t.”
Simon had no idea what they were even talking about at this point. The only thing he could focus on was the soft pink of her lips and the way her tongue darted out to wet them before she swallowed.
“You don’t like me, do you?” he whispered.
Her eyebrows lowered. “I don’tnotlike you.”
“If you liked me, you wouldn’t be in a rush to get me outta town.”
Violet’s arms lowered, and she shrugged one shoulder. “I told you, it doesn’t matter to me.”
He let the silence linger for a moment as he studied her face, trying to memorize every detail.
