“No, it’s okay. It’s certainly a valid point. Those of us who have lived for a very long time can acquire wealth over many lifetimes. I work in law enforcement because I choose to, not because I need the money.”
She nodded her head in agreement. “It makes sense.” And it was certainly admirable.
With a twinkle in his eye, he picked up a remote and pressed a button. Jazz music piped in from overhead speakers. “Any more questions, Miss Howe?”
“No, I think I’m good for now,” she murmured and took a few steps away from him to look around the rest of the place. She glanced up at the coffered ceilings, then her eyes moved lower to the crown moldings and ornate, white mantle on the fireplace.
“Tell me,” he whispered from behind her. “What did you expect?”
His voice came out deep and sultry. She imagined he could seduce any female without even trying. “What? Oh.” She turned to face him and shrugged. “I’m not sure.” She didn’t want him to know that she’d given the subject much thought. But there’d been more than one occasion where she laid awake, alone in her bed, imagining how Garrett Mulroney lived, and what he did on his off time. Nothing could’ve prepared her for this.
She couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that she belonged here, and that none of this was a strange coincidence.
“I guess something much simpler.” Her mind drifted to Brooke once more. She would've gone gah-gah over this place. As an avid decorator, she loved color and detail. They used to spend their off time eating take-out while binge-watching HGTV. “You said you’ve put away your fair share of dangerous criminals. What about the criminals that took my cousin? How do you plan on finding them and bringing her back?” She rubbed her temples, feeling the start of a mother of a headache coming on.
“I’m not at liberty to go over the details of a police investigation with you, but I can assure you we’re doing everything in our power to find her. What about you? What happened back there would’ve sent anyone with a pulse into a tailspin. Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice taking on a softer tone.
No. Not at all. “I’m fine,” she lied. “My cousin was kidnapped and whoever did this killed my cat and stuffed her in a box. What makes you think something could be wrong?” Saying it all out loud made her stomach tighten into knots. She exhaled. “I apologize. It’s not fair to take my anger out on you. I appreciate what you’re doing, truly. I’m just freaking out right now.”
His jaw visibly clenched. “It’s understandable. Killing your cat was a cowardly thing to do. I’m sorry you had to see something like that.” He took off his holster and set it on the hall table. “Lawrence was trying to send you a message to try and intimidate you.”
The weight of his words boomeranged inside her head. “Well, I got it loud and clear.” If he was willing to kill an innocent creature like Salem, what would he do to Brooke? She couldn’t bear to let her mind go there.
Gillian reached into her pocket to touch Brooke’s keychain. She closed her eyes and tried to tune into her, but all she could make out were grainy shadows. Frustrated, she opened her eyes, and glanced at Mulroney, hoping for some answers. “When can I go back to Brooke’s place? I have a better chance of opening a psychic link with her if I’m near her things.”
His gaze darkened. “I’m sorry, but no one can go there right now. It’s still an official crime scene.”
“Right. How could I forget?” Gillian tried to shrug it off, but a combination of fear and anxiety threatened to overwhelm her. She pointed to Mulroney’s phone. “How long do you think it’ll take to hear back from anyone about Brooke?”
He glanced at the screen and frowned. “Hopefully soon. Please, come in and make yourself at home. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
“No thanks, I’m not very hungry.” Restless, she leaned against a dining room chair but didn’t sit. “Tell me more about the vampire pulling the strings in this blood ring. He’s your sire?” She needed to do something to keep her mind off things.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on Malcom Von Scrivner for over a century, and he's doing the same thing now that he did over a hundred and fifty years ago when he turned me.” His blue eyes glowed under the lights, and it made him look otherworldly.
She wasn’t sure what surprised her the most—Mulroney admitting to this juicy tidbit or the fact that he was practically ancient. She contemplated this new information, not sure what to say after that.
“I know it’s easier said than done, but you need to eat and rest to keep your strength up, for Brooke’s sake as well as your own.” He slipped off his suit jacket, hung it on a hook by the door, and loosened his tie.
His green dress shirt brought out the blue in his eyes. The fabric hugged tight to his broad shoulders and stretched over the sculpted muscles on his chest. After he unbuttoned his cuffs, he rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing tan, golden skin, and brawny forearms. She never knew forearms could be sexy. The idea of checking out Mulroney when Brooke was missing filled her with guilt.
He arched his brows, turning his full attention on her. “Miss Howe?”
Busted.Her cheeks heated. She quickly looked away, pretending to fawn all over some statue of a guy resting his face in his hand. “I was just admiring your statue.” She felt him behind her, edging closer. His heat and masculine scent permeated the air. Her body responded in kind. Her breasts grew heavy, and her nipples tightened into points. The guilt became tenfold, forcing her to take a few steps back. She turned to face him, cautious of his proximity.
“By all means, admire away.” He angled his head to the bronze. “Socrates sought to gain knowledge rather than victory over his opponent.”
Mulroney was wicked smart, not to mention crazy-hot, and completely different from the men she typically met. He quoted philosophers for one and made his living protecting the innocent for another. It was bad enough that she’d slept with his jacket on her bed, feeling somehow calmed and aroused all at the same time. His intoxicating smell was the only thing that had gotten her to go back to sleep after waking from a nightmare.
She turned back to face him and wrapped her arms around her body to stave off the chill in the room. “I still have your suit jacket. I planned to messenger it over to the station, but with everything going on, it sort of slipped my mind.”
“It’s understandable. Don’t worry. I have plenty.” He smiled wide, and it made her knees weak. Yup. She was suffering from some kind of PTSD.
“Do you typically bring your witnesses back to your home?” Granted she was grateful to him, but that didn’t change anything. There was still the matter of his interference, which ended up costing her a job.
“This would be a first. It seems we’re still in Q&A mode, and I believe it’s my turn. I’m not letting you off the hook. You never answered my question, and I admit I’m curious.” He walked to the thermostat and pressed a button to crank up the heat. “What did you expect my home to be like?”
Oh, that question. “In truth? I expected a Gothic building tucked away in a dark alley somewhere with black, velvet curtains and a coffin in the center of the floor.” Not a curved wood staircase with a skylight above it and wide planked, wood floors with Aubusson rugs. The home was bright and airy, welcoming.
