You Really Got Me (26 page)

“It’s not late,” the old man said a bit defensively.

Hell, the guy was probably lonely. Jason regretted his sharp tone. “I guess not.” He rubbed his face.

“Who was that girl here last night?”

Jason’s head snapped up and he stared at Denny.

Denny smirked. “I saw her leaving this morning. I assume she spent the night.”

“Shit.” Jason closed his eyes.

“Whatsamatter? No shame in finally getting some action. You been spending too much time alone.” Denny grinned. “So who is she?”

Jason was silent. Oh man.

Denny’s smile faded. “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me. I thought I recognized her. I didn’t know you were still seeing her.”

Shit. “Yeah. Well. It’s complicated.”

Denny’s eyebrows rose. “You know, there are people in town who think Kevin Vioget is responsible for his fiancée’s death.”

“I know.”

After another paused, Denny said, “Do you think that?”

“You know I can’t say anything.”

Denny nodded. “Yeah. I know. But hell, complicated is right.”

“No shit.” He dropped his head into his hands.

Denny’s hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. “Just concerned about you, Jase.”

Jason nodded but didn’t lift his head. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” Denny patted his shoulder. After a moment, he said, “Seriously. Let me know if you need anything.” And Jason heard his slow footsteps leaving.

Candles, flowers and small plush toys lay piled outside the front entrance of the Vioget lab Monday morning when Jason arrived there. A young girl, probably about the age of Natalia Debarros, wiped tears as she placed some flowers next to the growing pile. She straightened and a young man wrapped his arm around her waist and they stood together, heads bowed.

Jason walked around the building to the rear where a makeshift triage center had been set up. Investigators wearing full body suits and masks sifted through trash from the building and Jason knew the same thing was happening outside town at the trash facility the lab contracted with for their waste removal.

He found Nicki Barden there.

“We’re getting search warrants signed,” he told her. “To get DNA samples.”

She pressed her lips together and studied him. “Samples? Plural?”

“Yeah.”

“Kevin Vioget one of them?”

“Yeah.”

She said nothing and he met her intense scrutiny head on. “I know what I’m doing,” he said evenly. “We should have the DNA results from the lab coat this morning. The autopsy and DNA results from the body, probably not until tomorrow.”

She lifted her chin once and lowered it, then turned back to the investigation.

He hoped like hell he knew what he was doing. This was so damn critical it made him sweat. Thinking about the police arriving at the Vioget Estate to take Kevin Vioget in for hair and fingernail samples—and Kendall’s reaction to that—also made him sweat. Profusely. He swiped a hand over his forehead and went to talk to one of the investigators before he headed back to the office to review all the other evidence they’d been working on the past ten days.

Monday morning, Juan and Maria left for their home with hugs and tears. Kendall would probably never see them again, which was really weird. Her heart still ached for them.

To combat the dense silence that now filled the huge house, she turned on her music really, really loud. The Kinks beat out “You Really Got Me” as she heated up some leftovers for lunch for her and Kevin. She turned the volume down to eat, but neither of them had much to say. They’d just finished eating when the phone rang.

“Kendall. Hi.”

Jason.

Nerves fluttered back to life in her stomach. She wanted to know how he was, to hear his voice, to believe that he was calling because he wanted to talk to her. But somehow she knew that wasn’t why he was calling and dread shot through her.

“I’m at the gate,” he told her. “We need you to come let us in.”

Us, this time. Not just him. “Why?”

“We have a warrant.”

She gasped and pressed her hand to her stomach. “For what?”

“For Kevin. Is he there?”

“Yes. We just finished lunch.”

“You need to let us in.”

Oh holy mother of fuck. The food she’d just eaten churned in her stomach as she hung up the phone. Saliva accumulated in her mouth and she pressed a hand against her lips. Numbly, she left the house and began the walk down the road to the gate, her mind racing. They were going to arrest Kevin.

Chapter Twenty

The warrant was to allow them to obtain DNA samples. They took Kevin with them, to go to a lab in Santa Barbara. Kendall called Arman, who arrived quickly, looked at the warrant and grimly nodded.

Why were they doing this? Jason didn’t say much to her. How could he? She shot him first questioning then furious looks. He held her gaze steadily, but maintained his look of determined resolve. The tightness in his jaw told her he took no pleasure in this though, and he soon left with Kevin and another officer and Arman. She kept her emotions reigned in, answering their questions and showing them what they asked for.

She was tired, so tired, physically tired from the labor of working outside in fresh air and sunshine all morning, but also mentally and emotionally drained. Only adrenaline kept her going, kept her nerves humming, even though she moved around in a daze.

When Arman brought Kevin home, Kendall hurried to the front door as Kevin walked in, alone. The sound of Arman’s vehicle faded.

“What happened?” she demanded. “What did they do?”

At least he wasn’t in jail, thank God.

Weariness lined Kevin’s face. Had he gotten thinner over the last week? She’d never noticed those hollows beneath his cheekbones. Shadows smudged beneath his eyes and faint lines ran from nose to mouth. He passed a hand over his eyes.

“They took some fingernail and hair samples. To test for DNA.”

“But why?” She leaned on the newel post at the foot of the stairs. “I don’t understand why.”

“To see if it matches the blood on the lab coat they found. And apparently some DNA they may have found on…on Natalia’s body.”

“But it won’t match!” She stared at him. “Will it? That can’t be your blood on that lab coat.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It won’t match. I swear to you, Kendall, that is not my blood.” He raised anguished eyes to her face. “Nor is whatever they found on Natalia. This is a fucking nightmare. This was so humiliating. I haven’t done anything, and they fucking took me in like a criminal.”

“You need to tell me what happened that night,” she said, urgency swelling huge inside her, propelling her forward. She grabbed his arm. “Then we’ll figure out what to do.”

“It won’t make any difference.” He scowled.

“Just tell me the truth. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth.”

“I don’t need you to help me!” He turned and thundered up the stairs.

She sank onto the bottom step and buried her face in her hands. Oh sweet mother of hell.

Jason was in bed, in a strange sleep, having a bizarre dream about Kendall crushing grapes, dark juices flowing and turning into blood, when he came wide awake. He stared into the darkness.

His doorbell rang. Again. That’s what had woken him. Jesus. He glanced at his alarm clock as he threw back the covers and swung his legs out of bed. Just past midnight. Jesus Christ.

He slept naked, so had to scramble for a pair of sweat pants draped over a chair, stumbled into them and then staggered down the stairs. It was the back door, and he lurched through the dark kitchen, stubbing a toe on a stool and cursing. He unlocked the door and threw it open stupidly without checking who it was.

Kendall.

He sucked in oxygen, stared at her wearing what looked to be pajamas, for Chrissake, with a hoodie over them. Her dark hair was mussed, she wore no makeup, her face pale and luminous, eyes dark and huge.

“Kendall,” he said, his voice gritty with sleep. He rubbed his eyes. “What the hell?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I need to talk to you. I am furious with you,” she said through clenched teeth, pushing past him into his kitchen.

All he could think was, first of all, fuck, she was gorgeous, and then, what the fuck had the surveillance guys thought when she drove out of the estate at midnight?

Her words penetrated the fog of sleep that still enveloped his brain. He tried to focus. Tried not to imagine what was under that hoodie. “I know,” he finally said. “I knew you would be.”

“What the hell, Jason?” She advanced on him and stabbed a finger into his chest. He grabbed her hand and held it away from him, reached for the other hand just in case. “What the fucking hell! Arresting him like a criminal? He didn’t do anything! I told you before, you need to concentrate on finding the real killer!”

“We are, Kendall.” He tried to make his voice soft and soothing, but he was revved up too now. “We are.”

“No! You’re not! You’re taking innocent people in and humiliating them!”

“Kendall. I’m sorry. I’m just doing my job.”

“Doing your job! You keep saying that! You’re
not
doing your job! If you were, you’d have found the real killer!”

He swallowed a groan.

“You can’t take him away from me!” she cried. “Please, please, Jason, don’t do this.”

“I’m not, baby, I’m not.”

“You are! He’ll go to jail for something he didn’t do. Our lives will be ruined. He’s the only family I have!”

His heart contracted. “No, Kendall. No.” He wanted to tell her everything—but he couldn’t.

“You’re biased,” she accused, her flashing eyes narrowed at him. “You are so biased. Because of what happened with your sister.”

“No. I’m not.” But her words struck him like a slap to the face.

“Yes, you are. You’re determined to make Kevin pay when he didn’t do it. You can’t see past your own history.”

He closed his eyes briefly. No. It wasn’t true. The muscles of his neck so tight his entire head throbbed, he said, “Kendall. You know that’s not true.”

“No. I don’t know that. You might be out to get him just because he was Natalia’s fiancé. Your experience has influenced the way you’re looking at this.”

He drew back. “Do you really think that about me?”

She pressed her quivering lips together. She didn’t answer right away. “Can you tell me for sure you’re being open-minded about this and not assuming that Kevin did something to Natalia?”

“Kendall. The decisions I make are based on the facts. Please believe me.”

“He didn’t do it!”
She stared back at him, eyes wild, chest heaving, lips parted. She fought harder now, and he took two steps and pinned her against the wall. He still held her hands, used his body to hold her in place, and gazed down at her sternly. She was getting herself worked up into quite the frenzy, and he worried for her, sensed the knife-edge she was balancing on. Shit. He continued to hold her hands, though she was fighting him, trying to extricate herself from his tight grasp.

“Let me do my job, Kendall,” he said, his jaw tight. “Trust me.”

“Trust you!” Her voice rose and he started to fear hysteria. “Trust you! Another thing you keep saying. I did trust you. Oh God, I trusted you, and then you had him
arrested!”

“Kendall. We didn’t arrest him. We just took him in for some samples. Calm down.”

“I will not calm down!” Her eyes flashed, and she fought harder to get out of his grip. Jesus, he had to restrain her or she’d hurt herself. Or him. Or both of them. With his superior size and strength he easily held her hands at her sides and pressed her harder into the wall with his body.

She was losing control. She struggled harder, and then, knowing what she needed, he picked her up, kicking and writhing in his arms, carried her into his living room and sat on the couch with her stretched out on her stomach across his lap. He held her wrists with one hand, and with the other he laid a smack on her butt. Her feet kicked and she gave a little cry, her body tightening and going still. He used his entire body to hold her down. “Stop it,” he ordered her, voice hard. “Stop, Kendall. Calm down.”

He smacked her again, a little harder on the other cheek. He wished for bare skin, knowing that would deliver even more of the sensation she needed, and he tugged at the loose pajama pants she wore. They slid down easily, revealing her sweet little ass to him in a tiny pair of panties. He gave her a firm pat again, and again, and miraculously, amazingly, she gave a softer cry and her struggles eased. Yes.

He kept it up until her ass was flushed a rosy pink, and she was limp across his thighs. Her hair draped over her wet face, she made tiny whimpering noises that sounded like pleasure. He gave her a couple more taps for good measure, and then let his palm rest on her pink cheek. Heat rose from her flesh and he rubbed in gentle strokes. This time her moan definitely sounded like pleasure.