“You’re hard like he was,” Warren continued. “Able to put his feelings aside and do what needed to be done no matter what. I always admired that about him. Fletcher was always stronger than me. Even when Stella left us both, I never saw him break. He never wavered, not once, not even for a second. You would have never known anything was even wrong with him.”
Stella, the woman they’d both loved. The one who’d ruined their friendship, then run off with another man.
Warren lapsed into silence again, and his glossy eyes dulled with old memories. After a minute, he shook his head and came back to himself. “Anyway, I know I don’t deserve it, but I appreciate your help, especially for Violet’s sake. She would have died last night if not for you.”
I shrugged. “I would have done the same for anyone else.”
Warren shook his head. “No, I don’t think you would have. You know there are some people who just deserve killing. Something Donovan hasn’t realized yet. Something he won’t ever be able to admit to himself. His father was the same way. He tried to help me out with Dawson some years back, but it didn’t take.”
“So that’s how you know Donovan. You knew his father.”
Warren nodded. “Daniel Caine, a fine man. Donovan is too. But he’s not the one for you.”
He was more observant than I’d given him credit for. I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Warren glanced over his shoulder, but Donovan Caine was still talking on his cell phone, so he turned back to me. “I mean you and Donovan are on opposite sides. Always have been, always will be. He’s not going to change, and he’ll never accept what you are, what you’ve done. It’s just not in his nature, no matter how much he might want to.”
“And you’re telling me this because…”
“Because Donovan’s a good man, and you’re good too, in your own way. At least you should be if Fletcher raised you right,” Warren said. “At the very least, you’re good at what you do.”
“The best. I was the best at what I used to do,” I corrected him. “But I’m retired now.”
Warren snorted. “Right. Just remember what I said. Don’t get too attached to Donovan Caine. Because it’s not going to end the way you want it to.”
His eyes didn’t glow with power, and I didn’t sense any magic trickling off him, which meant Warren T.
Fox didn’t have an Air elemental’s sense of precognition.
Whether Warren had any magic or not, he was still observant enough to recognize the conflict between me and Donovan Caine.
Finn murmured something, which made Violet giggle.
Warren’s head snapped around at the sound. He shuffled off to glower at Finn and put an end to the younger man’s flirting with his granddaughter. This time, I could have offered him the advice of not bothering. Short of shooting Finn with the shotgun, there was nothing Warren could do. Flirting with the opposite sex was as natural and necessary as breathing to Finn.
I looked past the trio to where Donovan Caine paced back and forth on the floorboards. The detective saw me watching him, frowned, and turned his back to me. Shutting me out once again.
I sighed. Warren T. Fox was definitely sharper than he looked. Even worse, I had a sinking suspicion he was right about me and Donovan. The detective wasn’t going to let it work between us, no matter how hot the sex had been, no matter how bright the attraction still flared. My gray eyes traced over the detective’s lean body.
A shame, really.
——
By the time I followed Warren over to his house, made everything as secure as I could, and walked back to the store, it was well into the afternoon. My stomach growled, reminding me that the half of the barbecue sandwich I’d eaten for lunch was long gone. So I perused the coolers in the front of the country store. I picked up a cellophanewrapped bologna and Swiss cheese sandwich from one of the coolers, along with a bottle of lemonade. Some chips and a candy bar from the display rack near the counter completed my gourmet meal. I took my items to the cash register.
“You don’t have to pay for that,” Violet Fox protested.
I slapped a ten-spot down on the counter. “Sure I do. Keep the change.”
I took my dinner out onto the front porch and settled into a rocking chair. One of the barrels made an excellent table for my food, and I dug in. The lemonade was far too weak and watered down for my tastes, and the bread was getting hard and stale, but smothering it with mayo made it palatable enough. Not the best meal I’d ever had, but it would do. I’d hate to go to the trouble of breaking into Tobias Dawson’s office only to have my stomach growl and give me away to whatever guards he might have stationed there.
I’d just unwrapped my candy bar when Donovan Caine stepped out onto the porch. The detective hesitated, then walked over to me.
“Care if I join you?” he asked in a low voice.
“Sure.” I sank my teeth into the candy bar. Crunchy, slightly bitter almonds coated with dark chocolate. Definitely the best part of my meal.
The detective stared out at the crossroads. An empty coal truck rumbled by, stopped, and made the turn to go on up to the mine.
“I got some info on Tobias Dawson,” Donovan said.
“And it’s not good. He’s a real piece of work, from all reports. He’s got almost a complete stranglehold on the mining in the area, so he pays his employees belowaverage wages. A couple of them tried to form a union a few months back. They all met with mining accidents soon after. Roof collapses, equipment malfunctions, even a cave-in.”
“Did you expect anything else? You saw Dawson threatening the Foxes. He’s not a nice man.”
Donovan ran a hand through his black hair. “But that doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to just kill him.”
“And just because Dawson has money doesn’t make it right for him to intimidate people into getting whatever he wants,” I pointed out. “So which is worse — me assassinating Dawson for threatening the Foxes or him telling his brother to go rape and murder Violet just to send a message to her grandfather?”
Caine blew out a long breath. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. But two months ago, I would have taken you in for plotting to kill someone. Slapped my handcuffs on you and dragged you down to the station, no questions asked.”
“And now?”
Donovan looked out at the road, although I got the impression he wasn’t really seeing it. “Now, I’m thinking about helping you get to him.”
“Don’t sound so broken up about it, detective. Getting rid of Dawson is the right thing to do.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s what you want to do. I’m just going along with you.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why go along with me if it bothers your conscience so much?”
Donovan stared at me. Emotions flickered like candle flames in his eyes. Guilt. Desire. Need. Weariness. Resignation.
“I don’t know that either.”
Tires crunched on the gravel, and a classic convertible pulled into the parking lot. The vehicle was as black as black could be, with a long body and swooping fins. Despite its pristine, gleaming beauty, the convertible always reminded me of a hearse. The top was up, but I didn’t need to see inside to know who was driving. Sophia Deveraux had arrived. I got to my feet.
Donovan tensed. “Trouble?”
“Relax, detective. I called a friend to come help Finn watch the Foxes, while you and I sneak off to Dawson’s mine.”
Sophia opened the driver’s door and stepped out.
The detective frowned. “Isn’t that your cook from the Pork Pit? The one who was working when Jake McAllister tried to rob you?”