tell me something was Harlan Mosby. Unfortunately I got to the hospital too late.”
“That’s why you went to Mobile?”
She grimaced. “That was the main reason but I really did drop a load of stuff off at the Salvation Army.”
“So the night before you go to talk to Harlan about his investigation of your parents’ deaths, he conveniently dies.”
She nodded. “Exactly what I thought. The doctor swore his death was imminent … completely expected. He practically laughed in my face when I suggested someone might have killed him.”
Zach already knew that Harlan’s body had been cremated. Proving that someone had assisted Harlan into going on to the next life would be impossible.
“You said you’ve talked to your parents’ friends. Did you learn anything from them?”
“No. Since I didn’t want to arouse anyone’s suspicions, I tried to keep my questions more of a conversation than a questioning. Subtlety yielded zero results.”
“Since someone tried to kill your aunt, I’d say it did produce one result.”
She wilted in front of him like a scorched flower. His remark had been a low blow and he knew it. He’d said it to intentionally hurt her and immediately felt like shit. “I’m sorry, Savannah, I—”
The hurt in her eyes disappeared and was replaced by determination. “Fine. You’re right. I screwed up. But here’s the thing—why go after Gibby? Why not come after me? I’m the one asking the questions, not her.”
“Maybe he thinks she knows something.”
She nodded. “Exactly.”
The light bulb came on and Zach cursed himself for not thinking of it before. Last night at the dinner party, Gibby had, very loudly, told Savannah she had thought of something she needed to tell her that would aid in her investigation. Anyone in the house could have heard her.
Zach grabbed the notepad she had in front of her. “Name everyone who was there last night and their relationship to your parents.”
While she jotted down the names, Zach stood and, without giving it much thought, opened the fridge and took out a pitcher of lemonade. Holding it up, he said, “Want some?”
A small smile curved her lips. “Yes. Thanks.”
“What’s so amusing?”
“Nothing, really. I just like the way you make yourself at home.”
He poured two glasses and set them on the table. “Get used to it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that until this is over, I’m living here.”
He prepared himself, sure that his blunt statement would get her back up. She surprised the hell out of him when she said, “I like the sound of that.”
A gut punch of arousal stole his breath. Damn, he wanted her. Here. Now. On the table, stripped bare, begging for pleasure. Zach downed his beverage in two gulps, hoping the ice-cold drink would diminish the heat. Until they got some things settled between them, that wasn’t going to happen.
She slid the notepad across the table. “I can’t believe any of them would do this. They all seem so harmless and have been so kind to me.”
His eyes scanned the list. “I agree, but you know as well as anyone that looks can be deceiving.”
She nodded. “Seems like every few months, I prosecute someone for a heinous crime while everyone else claims shock, saying he seemed like such a nice, quiet guy.” Savannah pushed away from the table and stood. “I need to go back and check on Gibby.”
“I’ll drive you. Maybe she’ll be alert enough to talk.”
“The doctor said she should be able to come home in a couple of days. I’m thinking about asking her if she wants to stay here.”
“I’d let her go home. She’ll be more comfortable there. Brody can protect her.”
“Sammie and Bri can help out, too. They’ll be here tomorrow.”
He was surprised Savannah didn’t suggest that Sammie or Bri would be protection enough for her, too. Not that it would do any good. Until this case was closed, he would be with her day and night. After that? Zach pushed aside the thought.
Fury swept through Savannah once more as she gazed down at Gibby. The bruises and swelling were more apparent than ever. Her sweet aunt was almost unrecognizable. How could anyone hurt an innocent old lady?
“I promise you, honey, it looks worse than it is,” Gibby insisted.
Savannah refused to believe this wasn’t her fault. If she had been more discreet, none of this would have happened. Was this the reason her grandfather had never pursued the truth? A killer in the midst of Midnight seemed ludicrous. Evil wasn’t limited to urban areas, she knew; it was just that