“Eva?” My dad’s hands settled on my shoulders and kneaded into the hard, aching muscles. “Are you okay?”
“I-I’m tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.” I shut off the water and left the rest of the dishes where they were. I went to the cupboard where we kept our vitamins and over-the-counter medicines and took out two nighttime painkillers. I wanted a deep, dreamless sleep. I needed it, so I could wake up in a condition to figure out what I needed to do.
I looked at my dad. “Can you take care of Ireland until Gideon gets back?”
“Of course.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
Ireland found me before I could find her. “Are you okay?” she asked, stepping into the kitchen.
“I’m going to lie down, if you don’t mind. I know that’s rude.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Really, I’m sorry.” I pulled her close for a hug. “We’ll do this again. Maybe a girls’ day? Hit the spa or go shopping?”
“Sure. Call me?”
“I will.” I let her go and passed through the living room to get to the hallway.
The front door opened and Gideon walked in. Our gazes met and held. I could read nothing in his. I looked away, went to my room, and locked the door.
*
I was up at nine the next morning, feeling groggy and grumpy but no longer overwhelmingly tired. I knew I needed to call Stanton and my mom, but I needed caffeine first.
I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and shuffled out to the living room. I was almost to the kitchen—the source of the luscious smell of coffee—when the doorbell rang. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t help the instinctive reaction I had to thoughts of Gideon, who was one of the three people on the list to get past the front desk.
But when I opened the door, it was my mother. I hoped I didn’t look too disappointed, but I don’t think she noticed anyway. She swept right past me in a seafoam green dress that looked painted on, and she pulled it off as very few women could, somehow making the outfit sexy and elegant and age-appropriate. Of course, she looked young enough to be my sister.
She raked a glance over my comfortable SDSU sweatpants and camisole before saying, “Eva. My God. You have no idea—”
“Nathan’s dead.” I shut the door and glanced nervously down the hallway at the guest bedroom, praying that my dad was still functioning on West Coast time and sleeping.
“Oh.” She turned around and faced me, and I got my first good look at her. Her mouth was thinned with worry, her blue eyes haunted. “Have the police come by already? They only just left us.”
“They were here last night.” I headed into the kitchen and straight to the coffeemaker.
“Why didn’t you call us? We should have been with you. You should’ve had a lawyer with you, at the very least.”
“It was a real quick visit, Mom. Want some?” I held up the carafe.
“No, thank you. You shouldn’t drink so much of that stuff. It’s not good for you.”
I put the carafe back and opened the fridge.
“Dear God, Eva,” my mother muttered, watching me. “Do you realize how many calories are in half-and-half?”
I set a bottle of water in front of her and moved back to lighten my coffee. “They were here for about thirty minutes and then left. They didn’t get anything out of me beyond Nathan being my former stepbrother and that I haven’t seen him in eight years.”
“Thank God you didn’t say more.” She twisted open her water.
I grabbed my mug. “Let’s move to my sitting room.”
“What? Why? You never sit in there.”
She was right, but using it would help prevent a surprise run-in between my parents.
“But you like it,” I pointed out. We entered through my bedroom and I shut the door behind us, breathing a sigh of relief.