“The hell it is. You came to Laguna Cortez on your way to Chicago, heading for college. You delivered a message to me. Just like you’d delivered others before.” He dragged his fingers through his hair, remembering how she’d been the harbinger of such horrific news and wishing he could block the memory of those days. Of all of it except the sweet hours with Ellie before he ran.
“I—well, yes.” Her brow furrowed. “Your father sent me. You know that.”
“How long were you here before you told me what my father had ordered? For that matter, how many times did you linger after coming to town to deliver other messages to Peter?” He stressed the word messages, filling it with meaning.
Her eyes went wide. “What does it matter? I had to come—you know I couldn’t say no. So what if I played that to my advantage? You know what kind of life I had to lead.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to stay focused and unemotional despite her admission.
“And that last time, I was here for you. Not for Peter,” she continued. “I could have warned him, right? But then you’d be dead, wouldn’t you? Because your father would have assumed you warned him.”
“Not necessarily. He might have thought you did,” Devlin pointed out. “Especially if my father knew you were sleeping with Ellie’s uncle.”
“What is with you?” she snapped. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were jealous.”
“I am so not in the mood for jokes.”
“Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you in the mood for walking down Memory Lane? Because I don’t understand why we’re talking about this. You didn’t even clue in that I was sleeping with him back then, so why the hell do you care now?”
“You’re right,” he said. “I didn’t know.” There’d been a few rough months after the one time he and Anna had slept together, but after that, they’d slid into a solid friendship. Even so, he hadn’t noticed that she’d been screwing Peter White. Probably because he’d been so focused on Ellie. And, honestly, even if he had noticed, would it have mattered? He might have said something to Anna because of the age difference, but in the end, it was none of his business.
Now, though…
“You were seen,” he said. “It matters because you were seen.”
“Gee, you think? Believe it or not, I figured that one out on my own, considering you marched into the office and started interrogating me. So what?”
“Do not be dense, Anna. It doesn’t suit you. Peter White’s murder is an open case again, and now not only Ellie but her detective know that he was sleeping with a girl about half his age. That’s not good.”
She pressed her lips together, for the first time looking a bit chastised. “No,” she said. “That’s not good. But do you really think the cops are going to pursue the case? It’s so old, and it’s so hard to get a conviction when someone has already served time for the crime.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” he admitted. “That it will fade slowly away. It’s not as if Ellie’s going to push the matter.”
“I still can’t believe you told her.”
“Only that I killed her uncle.” Both Tamra and Anna knew that Devlin had killed Peter. And he’d more recently told them that he’d confessed that truth to Ellie. He hadn’t yet shared the revelation that both Lamar and Brandy knew as well.
Only Ronan knew that. And for now, that was enough.
“I told Ellie because I trust her,” he said, pointedly meeting her eyes. “There aren’t many people I trust. You know that.”
She nodded, her hands smoothing her skirt before she stepped forward and took both of his hands in her own. “Yeah. I do. I won’t second guess you. I like Ellie, too, but I worry about you. About all of this,” she added, looking around his office.
“I know.”
“We both escaped, Devlin. We have new lives. Good lives. I don’t want anything to mess that up.”
“Believe me,” he said, “neither do I.”
“So how much do you trust her?” Anna asked. “How much more are you going to tell her?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Everything? Nothing? Somewhere in between?”
“Can I give you some unsolicited advice?”
“Go ahead.”
“Tread carefully.”