OBSESSION (The Bening Files (Novella) Book 4) (10 page)

She said nothing about the fingerprints or the special delivery.

Robinson leaned forward on one bent elbow. From the corner of her eye, she noted Paige and Ariana’s interest. Honed in a bit of her frustration.

“He’s like my brother, okay? It’d be like you dating Jordan.” Davis let out a huff, picked her fork up and stabbed it into a piece of chicken. “Do you question
all
of your dinner guests about their personal life?”

“That’s sort of the interesting part of sharing a meal. You know, that thing called dialogue?” Amanda grabbed her plate and stood. “You ran off in a hurry this morning. Twice. Call me concerned.”

The other woman shot a glare in her direction. “I’d call you nosy.”

“That works, too. So, are you avoiding me or…?”

“Had some leads to follow.” As if her meat and veggies were the most interesting thing she’d seen in forever, Davis focused on them. “Didn’t figure you needed another person in the crowd of gawkers. And Mark wasn’t talking. That much was obvious.” She stuffed a forkful into her mouth and chewed. “Anyway, none of this is necessary. I’m fine. Ask the girls.” Davis pointed to their end of the table. “Do I look fine to you?”

Ariana flicked a glance at her uncle before shrugging. “Sure. I guess so.”

Paige’s slow perusal of the other woman said more than words, as if she were taking a moment to see more than the exterior. She licked her lips. “Your face is pale. You have sweat beading on your upper lip and forehead and every time you take a bite of food, you chew it an excessive number of times before forcing yourself to swallow it. So, either my aunt’s food is terrible—”

“That why you haven’t eaten anything?” Davis pushed around a piece of asparagus, then brought it to her mouth. Her eyes didn’t leave Paige.

Everything inside Amanda wanted to reach out and sock the other detective. If anyone was going to say something about Paige’s activities, it would be Robinson or herself. Not some woman she barely knew.

Paige didn’t break her focus. “Either it’s terrible or you’re about to upchuck.”

Score two, Paige. One-upping the adults today like a pro. Amanda bit back a laugh. And the urge to high-five her niece.

A frown covered Davis’ face. She blinked and sat back in her chair. Then she threw a smirk in Amanda’s direction. “Real cute. You taught her that, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah. And after I’m done with training, I feed her treats too.” She shook her head. Sent the teen a wink. “Turns out she has a brain. And eyes. And is telling you that you look like crap, in the nicest way possible. You’re not fine. You’re acting strange.”

Davis opened her mouth, then shut it. “We should be following up on leads. Maybe getting Mr. Hunk-of-Love, here, to tell us why the FBI confiscated evidence. Last time I checked, law enforcement agencies were supposed to work together.”

Paige’s amber eyes met Amanda’s before darting to the floor, any semblance of lightheartedness fading away.

“I’m not seeing any problem between federal and state agencies.” He turned toward the girls. “Why don’t you guys go relax? We’ll get the dishes tonight. Plus, you’ve got homework, right Paige?”

“Yes.” Her voice was quiet. “Not sure there’s a point.”

A solid punch landed near Amanda’s sternum. She would’ve given anything to hear even a bit of attitude in the syllables instead of gut-wrenching pain.

Robinson clasped his hands in front of his mouth, watched the teen with worried eyes and then turned them on Amanda.

She’d seen that look before. The one that said this moment wasn’t okay and he didn’t intend to watch it happen.

Amanda set her plate aside. “There is a point. You’re going back to school on Monday. Just like everybody else.”

“We’re doing everything we can to clear up a misunderstanding.” Robinson’s voice was clear and sure. As if by commanding it to happen, the events would fall in line. And maybe they would. “So, go knock the homework out and we can do something fun. Like plan a trip to see the Pilots’ first official practice.”

A burst of air left Amanda’s lungs. Robinson to the rescue, again. At least somebody around here knew what they were doing. “Wish somebody would have tried to bribe me with that when I was thirteen.”

“It helps to know people, A.J.”

Amanda couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “Would this be a blonde—” She flicked a glance at Paige who watched them with something akin to interest. The old big-breasted, blonde-haired bimbo line she used to tease him with died in her throat. Couldn’t say that in front of kids. Teenagers. Whatever. “Quarterback.”

A smile drew up the corner of Robinson’s mouth. Both eyebrows shifted upward. “Matsson and Nichols are both brunette. Even the rookie we drafted isn’t blond. Nice try.
A
for effort.”

Stupid, irresistible man thought he’d always win.

One dark eyebrow rose above the other as if both adults in charge of her care were insane. “We’d really plan a trip to see the Pilots train just because I did homework?”

No. It was more than that. The man was still working on smooth talking Amanda like he always did. And taking their niece right along with him, using their shared love of football as bait.

He nodded. “Yup.”

The biggest smile she’d seen the teen wear appeared. “That would be so…” And then it faded, the interest in her eyes fizzling out. “W-what about Grandma?”

Wasn’t that the question of the day?

Robinson laid a hand on Paige’s forearm. And waited. Instead of flinching or recoiling as she normally did with any physical contact, she remained still and locked eyes with him.

“Amanda checked on her a little while ago. She was safe and sound. Nothing is going to happen to her. The alarm bracelet they had on her cracked and came off. That’s the only reason she slipped the system. It won’t happen again.”

But he couldn’t guarantee that. No one could.

“How do you know that? She had a knife, but I know her. I know she didn’t do it.”

Crap. Amanda resisted the urge to glance in Davis’ direction and discover how she perceived this part of their conversation. Well, too bad. Amanda had a secret. The other detective didn’t have room to talk.

“I know.” His voice was low and soothing, as if they didn’t have a potential monster storm brewing. “But it’s not always that clear cut.”

“It’s obvious that cop didn’t care.” Her breaths were coming hard and fast. She looked between them. “He’s only interested in being in charge of his unit.”

“And putting people in their place.” Davis’ voice rang in the silence. “Wouldn’t you say, Amanda?”

Amanda shot Davis a glare, then refocused on her niece.

Paige clenched her hands together in her lap and flicked a gaze beyond Amanda before it swung back. “He’s a jerk. You’re good at your job.”

Not everyone thought so. And she could live with that because she’d never done anything but help catch their suspects. “Okay, relax. Breathe.” She brushed a strand of Paige’s hair from her shoulder, pulled her chair closer and sat. “Grandma’s pretty much the best woman I know. I think that even when she can’t remember me, or when she yells at me, because I’m someone else in her mind. None of that changes how I feel about her. I’m not going to let anything happen. And neither is Robbie.”

More promises that relied on things far beyond her control.

She had to try, even if it meant failure.

“I’m, um, about…” Paige nibbled the corner of her lower lip.

The harsh words Amanda had spat at her popped up in her mind. The scene of their dead victim. The way Amanda had missed the bravery—or stupidity, the jury was out there—her niece had displayed grabbing the weapon from her mother.

Frustration flitted across Paige’s face for a moment before it disappeared. Then she scooted her chair backward and stood. “I’m gonna do my homework.”

She and Ariana disappeared from sight. The easy acceptance should have made her night. Instead it caused the gnawing in her stomach to increase and proved the niggling voice right.

She didn’t know what she was doing. Didn’t know the first thing about being a stand-in parent. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Tried to shove the well of frustration aside.

“A knife?” Davis’ voice rang like a bell.

Amanda turned in her direction.

The other woman locked eyes with her. “You didn’t mention that.”

“Funny.” She picked up Paige’s plate. “You didn’t mention fingerprints on our Jane Doe. Or should I call her by some other name,
Vi
?”

Davis’ face became a blank canvas, her body going ramrod straight. “Don’t make this about me.”

“But somehow it already is. You could have called me yesterday. Any other time—any other case you would have. So, why not yesterday?”

“You were indisposed.”

Would she have rescheduled their meeting with the lawyer? “Never stopped you before.”

“You’ve never had a kid before. I figure that brings a whole new set of rules.”

Bull. “Doesn’t mean I stop using my brain. So, what’s going on?”

The almost imperceptible click of the front door caught her attention a split second before Dexter Knight stepped into view. Even with the June heat, he wore a long sleeve button-up shirt that hid scars he thought everyone would notice otherwise.

He sported the same short-cropped military hairstyle as when she’d met him for the first time last month. One hand moved upward in a wave as he moved closer.

Oblivious to the additional company, Davis stood. “I’m not stupid. What you’re doing here—it’s the same thing everyone’s doing to you. You, of all people, should know better. You don’t take one glimpse of a person and twist it to fit a truth you believe you have. You dig for answers until you’ve exhausted every avenue. A great detective taught me that.”

“I also advised going directly to the source. Second-hand accounts are flimsy.” Every cell in her body begged the other woman to prove her growing suspicions wrong. To point out the obvious truth in the encounter at the lab, the Fifth Precinct with her mother and this entire meal.

All Davis needed to offer was an explanation.

Something dark glittered in her partner’s eyes. “Thanks for dinner.” Then she turned and walked right into Dexter.

He steadied her with a hand on each shoulder. “You guys sure have an interesting way of treating dinner guests.” He released her and stepped back, one hand extended. “Hi. I’m Dexter Knight.”

An eternity seemed to pass before Davis placed her hand inside Dexter’s. “You work at the prison in Raleigh.”

The other man tilted his head to the side, a patient look crossing his face. “Have we met?”

“Not in person.” She extracted her hand and rubbed it along the side of her pants, as if he’d had slime on his fingers.

“Dexter, this is Charleen Davis.”

He nodded as if he knew everything then, even things beyond the file Robinson had forwarded him. And maybe he did. “The one with impeccable aim.”

A fancy way to describe how the other detective had, once again, arrived on time. In the right place. At the right time. And saved Amanda’s life a month ago with one well-placed bullet.

Seemed like another life. Another time.

Amanda stood, rounded the table and stopped next to Robinson. She bent to grab his plate. “Did you know he was coming over?” she whispered.

He shook his head, then leaned back in his chair. “Doesn’t mean anything one way or the other. He’s been a surprising mix of quiet speculation and purposeful advice since he was old enough to talk. You ever try to play hide and seek with a kid that barely had to move to find you? Probably the most aggravating childhood game ever for me.”

Dexter listened to whatever Davis was saying in a voice that was too quiet to understand. “We’re starting to look like a three-ring circus around here, Robbie.”

Before she could move on, he grabbed her wrist. Rubbed his thumb along the inside. “Regretting something?”

Lots of things she didn’t care to discuss. All of them had to do with the fact that her actions came from a hot-tempered place she’d let get out of control one too many times today. “Good save with the Pilots thing.”

Disappointment rumbled across his features. He released her. “You’d have thought of it too. Your specialty. Calming the chaos.”

“Not much calming going on.”

He shrugged. “Dust takes a little time to settle, A.J.”

###

THEY NEEDED TO talk, without interruption and for longer than five minutes, before Amanda took all the stress she’d been holding at bay all day—all month if she were honest, which wouldn’t happen with that particular set of events—and rolled it into a fiery ball she could do some real damage with. The last thing Robinson wanted was for his wife to prove everyone right. Like vultures, the city of Charlotte was lying in wait for that moment when Amanda’s obsession with its safety pushed her over the edge they all presumed she’d eventually find.

While not everyone thought she’d had a secondary motive in solving her cases, there was enough of an echo that might outlast her career.

She’d never voice the weight of it. Never show an ounce of how much it killed her to walk around protecting people who didn’t trust her. Instead, she’d stand taller. Try to prove them wrong. Focus on the people she could save.