But not intentionally. Never intentionally. She would never have allowed someone else to die in her place.
Joe knew that. She knew he did. And dwelling on the events of that fatal night would only serve to drive her insane. What had happened, had happened. And no one but the murderer himself had been at fault. She hadn’t needed therapy to recognize the truth of that. And she knew that Joe knew it, too.
So why was he so strange and distant these days?
And why did she insist on caring? Was she only hung up on him because he had been there in her darkest hour? According to Dr. Mowbry, women often fell in love with men they considered to be their saviors.
And he had saved her life. No doubt about it. But that wasn’t why she had fallen for him. She was sure of that.
And now, here he was, and she didn’t want him to be so gentle. She wanted him to crush her in his arms. She wanted to make wild, hot love with him. She didn’t want him to see her as delicate or in need of protection. She was tempted to simply slip off her dress, fling her arms around him and do something so sensual and sexy that he couldn’t resist her.
“So,” she said, with just the right amount of curiosity and professional courtesy, “what did you think?”
She loved his rueful smile, she thought. Loved it when she had his full attention and could see on his face that certain dry amusement he felt for life, himself and everything around him.
“I felt like I walked into a play filled with outsize characters who had to prove themselves and their innocence within the confines of two hours and one intermission,” he told her.
“Oh, come on, we’re not that bad,” she said.
“I didn’t say anyone was bad.”
He was hovering in the doorway. They’d already argued about the fact she had refused to stay with Eileen at the mansion, even though she was worried about her mother, and even though everyone was worried about her, despite the fact that, as she kept pointing out, she wasn’t a Raven. This time around, she wasn’t the one who had something to worry about.
But her mother had live-in help and an excellent security system, and she still needed her own place, her own independence.
So that, if she ever got up the nerve, she could just strip off her little black dress, and do something so exotic and sensual and sexual that he couldn’t stand it and…
“I know Larry,” Joe said. “He’s not a bad guy. And your mother is a wonderful woman.”
“See? Rich people aren’t all bad,” she heard herself say defensively.
He laughed easily and shook his head. “Gen, I never said they were. It was just tonight…that group. Let’s face it, I think everyone there was afraid someone else in that room did it. Lila was all bravado. Barbara was all denial. Brook Avery was pure pretense. And then…Jared showing up so dramatically…It was…interesting.”
“Did you learn anything?”
He hesitated. “I learned that no one there likes anyone else all that much, that no one liked Thorne, in particular, and that Jared Bigelow is sleeping with his aunt.”
She gasped. “What?”
“Well, they aren’t related by blood, are they?”
“No. Mary was married to Thorne’s older brother, Steven. He was thirty-some years older than she is.”
“A real love match, huh?” he said cynically.
“Supposedly it was a good marriage,” she said.
“Sure. I’d probably be good for that kind of money, too,” he said.
“You really are a skeptic, aren’t you?”
“Oh, come on, Gen! You weren’t just a little bit skeptical about that one yourself?”
“Maybe,” she admitted.
He was laughing, and suddenly he seemed to be so easy with her.
“Okay, so she probably married Steven Bigelow for his money,” she admitted. “That doesn’t mean that people always marry rich people for their money.” Why on earth had she said that? Could she be any more obvious about what was on her mind?
But he didn’t even seem to notice. “I’m sure some women do fall in love with men who are older and richer,” he said. “Just not in that particular case.”
“And what made you so certain that they’re sleeping together? Jared and Mary, I mean.”
“The possessive way she hung on his arm. The way he looked at you, and the way she looked at him for the way he looked at you.”
“You’re reading a lot into the way people look at each other.”
“Because there’s a lot to be read into it.”
“So do you think Jared killed his father, or his aunt killed his father or—”
“I think there are a lot of suspects,” he assured her. “And a lot of motives. Greed and jealousy have both been strong inducements for murder over the centuries. Of course, tonight we were missing one of the traditional suspects.”
“Who?”
“The butler, of course,” he said, grinning.
She had to laugh. But then she assured him, “Bennet didn’t murder Thorne, I can assure you.”