When Night Falls (13 page)

“And what does the evidence say, Lady Justice?”

“That you love your daughter with your whole heart. That even though you were no more than a child yourself when she came into your life, you’ve put your needs, your desires, aside in favor of hers.”

“And what about her mother?”

Jessica’s fingers tightened against the back of his hand. “She was a fool to turn her back on such an honorable man, an adorable daughter.”

The conviction behind the words punched him in the heart. “You don’t think I killed her?”

“You’ve done everything in your power to give your daughter a full life. It doesn’t add up that you would have robbed her of a mother, no matter how undeserving the woman was.”

Liam stared. Since the brutal night seventeen years before when he’d returned to find Heather gone, his daughter hungry and cold and crying, he’d faced down an entire police force, endured a town’s scorn, clawed his way to the top, moved heaven and earth to make sure Emily never suffered. Never once had anyone, anything, undone him as powerfully as Jessica’s belief in his innocence.

“Your daughter is a very lucky girl,” she added.

He heard the bittersweet edge to her comment, the longing he knew could never be fulfilled. Animosity had always sparked between him and Wallace Clark, but now a deeper anger surfaced.

“And you?” He found himself asking. Worse, he found himself caring. “Did Wallace Clark’s daughter consider herself a lucky girl, too?”

The light in her eyes dimmed. Her voice softened. “Dad was … complicated.”

Liam turned his hand over so their hands were palm to palm and wove his fingers between hers. “Yes, he was.”

“He was bigger than life to me,” she added with a sad smile, “more like an action hero than a flesh-and-blood man. He loved me, he loved all of us, but you were right, what you said yesterday. That love didn’t bring him home for dinner, or to my softball games. Not even to my high school graduation.”

For the second time in just a few days, Liam wished he’d been wrong. Work was important, but family was sacrosanct. “The man was a fool.”

A sudden rush of moisture glistened in Jessica eyes. She blinked furiously, turned away from Liam and toward the aquarium. “He did the best he could. That’s all you can ask of anyone.”

He followed her gaze to the watery world across the room, illuminated only by a soft blue light. Several angelfish hovered around a wispy green plant, while a school of neon fish darted from side to side.

“Spend a lot of evenings like this, do you, Jessica? Alone in the dark, watching your
fish?”

He heard her sharp intake of breath. “They help me relax. They’re a good distraction.”

“From what?”

“The word, I suppose.” She glanced at Liam and smiled. A single strand of hair had slipped from the twist, drawing his attention to her mouth as she talked. “They’re innocent, you know? Graceful. Hypnotic. It’s hard to think about greed and murder, abuse and neglect, when I’m watching them.”

Liam still held her hand in his and couldn’t resist the urge to stroke his thumb against her palm. She seemed to need the human touch every bit as much as he did.

“Why do you do it?” he asked, and again realized he cared.

“Watch the fish? I just told you.”

“No,” he said, extending his stroking beyond her hand and to her wrist. “Police work. Why do you do something that tears you apart on a daily basis? Why do you expose yourself to so much ugliness?”

She paled, as though he’d just peeled away a bandage, exposing the tender flesh beneath. “It’s who I am.”

“No, it’s not, Jessica. It’s who your father was. You’re an intelligent, compassionate woman who deserves to see more than the dark side of human nature.”

He caught the telltale flare of her amber eyes a second before she glanced toward the aquarium.

Liam wasn’t about to let her get away quite so easily. With his index finger he turned her face toward his, and their eyes met. The punch of need caught him by surprise. He felt like a parched man, she a glistening spring. But she wasn’t innocent or fresh, wasn’t water. She was amber whiskey, drugging, addictive, dangerous to a man on the edge. The compassion in her husky voice, the intelligence and vulnerability in her healing eyes, they called to him on a primal level he had a hard time resisting.

“I was out of line last night,” he told her. Regret rubbed at him. “I know you’re just trying to help.”

She blinked, looked more unsure than he’d ever imagined possible. “You’re not yourself right now. I understand that.”

Liam couldn’t help it. He laughed. “But that’s just it. I
am
myself right now. Hard, driven and like you said, manipulative.” He’d looked in the mirror every day of his life, but it hadn’t been until she forced him to do so and he saw their faces side by side that he felt shame at the man he’d let himself become. “I am a bastard, Jessica, and I’ve never once wished I was any other way.”

Her eyes filled, but she said nothing.

Liam fought the dangerous urge to pull her into his arms and hold on tight. “I never wished I was any other way,” he said again, “until I met you. When I see myself through your eyes, suddenly I don’t like who I see very much at all.”

“Liam—”

He pressed two fingers to her mouth, the lips he’d kissed last night and wanted to taste again now. “Don’t say anything. Just know that I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you. Every time I see you, I think to myself, there she is. Wallace Clark’s daughter. But every time you walk away, I realize that you’re your own woman, one hell of a woman at that.”

She looked at her arm where his hand continued to stroke the inside of her wrist.

He wanted to tilt her face toward his but knew he was dangerously close to drowning in her eyes. “You’re sitting there wondering how much of what I’m saying you can believe. You’re wondering if I’m being sincere or manipulating you in some way.”

She looked up abruptly. “Can you blame me?”

“Not at all. It’s one of the traits I admire most about you. You take nothing at face value.”

“A cop who wants to stay alive can’t afford to.”

“Neither can a woman who doesn’t want her heart broken.” The words freed themselves before he could stop them.

Alarm flashed in her gaze. “Liam—”

“Has anyone other than your father ever broken it, Jessica? Have you ever let anyone that close?”

She pulled her arm away from his hand and offered a quirky smile. “I’m the cop here, Armstrong. I ask the questions.”

She also erected walls as fast as he could chip away at them. “I didn’t think so.”

The light drained from her eyes. “It’s late,” she said, standing. “Perhaps you should get Molly home.”

He looked at his daughter’s dog, sleeping across the room. She lay on her stomach with her back paws stretched out behind her, her front paws crossed in front of her, her head resting on them. She looked shockingly peaceful.

“Come on, girl,” he called. Molly slowly opened her chocolate eyes, and with great protest, rolled to her paws and stretched.

Jessica crossed to her, stooped and ran her hands over the dog’s head, her soft floppy ears. “You’re a good girl,” she cooed. “Take care of your daddy for me.”

The sight of Jessica with his dog, the longing in Molly’s liquid eyes, made Liam’s chest tighten. It really was time to go.

“Come on,” he said, heading for the door. After another leisurely stretch, the dog ambled over.

Jessica joined them, wasting no time opening the front door and letting in a blast of cold.

Liam knew she wanted him to leave but lifted a hand to her soft face instead. He loved the feel of her skin, the way her eyes went wide at his touch.

“I’ve never missed one of Emily’s track meets,” he murmured, because somehow it seemed important. He knew she saw the similarities between himself and her father. He wanted her to see the differences, too. “Not a single one.”

Her expression softened, turned bittersweet. The light in her eyes became more of a glisten. “We’ll get her back,” she said, pushing up on her toes and brushing her lips along his. “I promise you that.”

Liam went very still. Last night their mouths had met in anger, maybe even challenge. But nothing hard underscored this slide of lips. Only compassion and promise, honesty.

God help him, he wanted to drink in more. He wanted to fold his arms around this special woman, immerse himself in her, take all she had to offer, give back even more.

She was an amazing woman, Jessica Clark was. He wanted to press her to his heart and hold on tight. He wanted to put his mouth to hers and absorb all she had to give. He kept coming back to the dangerous thought that she would miraculously make everything better.

Everything.

The thought ground through him. He hated hanging his future, his daughter’s well-being, on someone else. Especially a cop. Especially Wallace Clark’s daughter.

He wasn’t a man who relied on others.

There was the danger. In Jessica’s fathomless whiskey eyes, he found a glowing promise that lit the darkest corners of his heart. If he stayed in her cozy condo any longer, if the conversation deepened any further, he risked crossing a dangerous line and ending up in a place that would crater them both. Her bed.

He’d always prided himself on being a good father, but the ridiculous thoughts needling through him made him wonder. What the hell kind of man was he?

He knew the answer. He just didn’t like it.

Pulling back abruptly, he stepped deeper into the night. “I’ve got to go.”

“Yes,” she said with a punishing punch of acceptance. “I know you do.”

But still … he hesitated.

“It’s for the best,” she added. “We both know that.”

The urge to crush her in his arms almost toppled him. Instead, he took her fine-boned hand in his and squeezed. “I was wrong last night. You
are
a smart woman.”

Her eyes widened, revealing something dangerously close to yearning. Then she blinked and lifted her chin. “I’m a cop, Liam. And I’m going to give you back your daughter.”

Because he wanted to lift her in his arms and carry her upstairs, he barked out something gruff, then released her hand and walked into the cold of night. He’d said all along the only thing he wanted from Detective Jessica Clark was the one thing she’d promised to give him. His daughter.

And yet, as he slid into his car and sped into the night, he couldn’t destroy the feeling of hollowness deep inside, the one that spread like an oil spill in a marine preserve, the one he found relief from only in the presence of Wallace Clark’s daughter and those amazing, assuring eyes of hers.

The old man had to be laughing in his grave.

Liam was a firm believer in life coming full circle, but never in a million years could he have imagined such a cruel, cruel twist.

Payback really was hell.

* * *

Jess closed the door against the cold night and hugged her arms around her midsection. Emotion surged through her, making her body feel alive, on fire. Humming with desire. She’d never wanted to kiss a man so damn badly. Never wanted to feel his mouth come down hard on hers. Never wanted to press her body to his and lose herself in his touch. Never feared she was about to explode like a Roman candle against a night sky.

God help her, she was in too deep.

William Armstrong wasn’t just intricately linked to one of her cases and he wasn’t just the man her father would have given anything to lock away. He was a man who’d built his whole life by keeping the world at arm’s distance, a man who’d trained himself to never let anyone too close, never give more of himself than meager crumbs he could live without.

He was the kind of man who broke a girl’s heart without even trying.

She crossed to the sofa and sat, picked up the cocoa Liam had made for her. Her first sip had been steaming hot, but now it was cold, much like she was. She drew it to her lips anyway and sipped deeply. Even cool, the flavor was dark and sumptuous, enticing, much like the man who’d stood at her stove warming milk, then adding just the right amount of chocolate.

Her throat tightened, and moisture rushed to her eyes. She wasn’t a woman to cry, couldn’t believe she’d almost done so in front of William Armstrong.
Be strong,
she told herself.
Focus on the case, not the father.

She didn’t have room in her life for a man who guarded his time like a prison warden. She wouldn’t go down that road again. She wouldn’t subject herself to that cutting disappointment, the waiting, the stolen moments, the awareness that she was never a priority, that something else always came first.

She shook herself. The man had dedicated his life to his daughter. He was worried sick about her disappearance. How could Jessica fault him for that? How could she condemn a father willing to move mountains to find his baby girl?

She couldn’t. But she couldn’t afford to step any farther over the line, either. She couldn’t get involved on a personal level, let herself want anything from him. She could only do her job, and that meant exploring the past, whether Liam wanted her to or not.