Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,71

way you’re sleeping with Victoria.”

“Watch it,” Wade advised, voice curt.

Dace’s gaze snapped between them when Wade took an aggressive step forward. “Easy there, buddy. Easy. Hell, I mean, come on, if she thought you were the one sending these messages, then it’s obvious you two are lovers.” His gaze went back to the messages. He scrolled. “And it’s obvious that—­” He broke off, stiffening.

Victoria knew exactly which text he’d just read. She steeled herself. She’d known this would be coming. She’d debated deleting the text, but . . . even if she deleted it from her phone, it would still be on Wade’s. The crime analysis guys would see it. No, better not to hide it. Better to just—­

“What is he talking about, Victoria?” Dace’s face showed his shock. “ ‘How did it feel when you killed your father’?” he read.

She didn’t speak.

“ ‘He deserved what you did.’ ” Dace’s voice sharpened as he kept reading. “ ‘I understand. I understand so much about you now.’ ” He shook his head. “What the hell? He’s saying you killed your father!”

“Yes,” Victoria said. She cleared her throat. “That’s exactly what he’s saying.”

Dace’s lips parted. She could see him struggling to find words.

She was struggling herself. Time to admit the truth. I can’t hide any longer. The killer knows. He’s going to make sure my past comes out. Everyone will know what I did.

“Did you?” Dace finally asked. “Did you kill your father?”

Yes, yes I did. “I—­”

“Fuck, no,” Wade said, stepping in front of Victoria. “You are not seriously asking her that, are you?”

His broad back blocked her view of Dace. Victoria sucked in a few quick, desperately needed breaths. She balled her shaking fingers into fists.

“The perp is just playing some mind game,” Wade continued. “You should get that shit. And, hell no, you don’t get to ask her if she killed her father. I mean, come on! She’s Victoria fucking Palmer. The woman has worked with the FBI on some of their biggest cases. She’s the go-­to-­girl that the cops use when they need help with their dead. You certainly were using her services. She spent her life trying to help people, and you’re going to stand there and ask her if she killed her father?”

Um, yes, that was what Dace had done.

Because that is exactly what I did.

“No,” Wade snapped before Dace could say anything else. “She did not kill him. Good enough for you?”

She craned her neck and looked around Wade’s body. She saw Dace run a hand over his face. “Right. Sorry. Shit, I know you can’t believe a word guys like him say. I just—­why did he send that message?”

“Because he is trying to screw with her head,” Wade said flatly. “The guy gets off on tormenting people, but he is not going to hurt Victoria.” He looked back at her. “I’ll be damned if that shit goes down on my watch.”

There was such a dark intensity in his golden gaze.

“If the killer is the one who sent these texts,” Dace said, “then if Matthew Walker is innocent—­”

Before he could finish his statement, a sharp knock sounded on his office door. Seconds later the door was opened and a female officer poked her head inside. “Detective Black,” she called. “Wanted to let you know that Walker’s lawyer is here.”

He swore.

The female cop lifted a brow. “You ready for him?”

“Hell, no.” But he nodded. “I’ll be right out.”

The cop vanished.

“Shit,” Dace said. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do? I’ve barely got enough to hold him. Jeremiah never actually saw him face-­to-­face, so he can’t ID the guy. There are damn hundreds of Jags in this city. Smoke and fucking mirrors . . . that is all this damn case is.”

The door shut behind the detective. Victoria slowly exhaled. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath.

Wade turned to face her. His gaze met hers.

“Thank you,” she told him. “For coming to my defense that way.”

His lips hitched into a half smile. “Like it was hard, baby. I know you aren’t a killer.”

You’re wrong.

She glanced toward the door. They were alone. She didn’t know how long they’d have before the detective came back inside. “What if I were?” As soon as the words slipped out, Victoria wished that she could pull them back.

Wade blinked. Then his brows climbed. “What?”

“Gabe . . .” She pressed her lips together, and then continued. “Gabe killed the man who took his sister. You were there when that happened.”

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