“But as you can see, I have pressing plans for this evening. Is this a social call or did you have a real reason for stopping by? I’m fairly certain this place isn’t exactly on your way home.”
Olivia’s brows snapped down, her fangs flashing. “You used to be a better host, Cord, and since when does your voice sound like a pissed off bulldog?”
Cord’s own canines dropped down in a defiant show of aggression. “My vocal cords were severed in a knife fight two months ago. They didn’t heal right on the outdated blood they feed me, not that it’s any of your business.”
Cord was in no mood to play games. He forced himself to ask the hard question, his voice a harsh rasp. “Let’s cut to the chase, Chancellor McCabe. Did you finally find Dwayne Delaney’s body?”
Olivia’s expression softened just a bit as she nodded. “We did indeed.”
Cord straightened his shoulders. He had little left to call his own except for his pride. No matter what, he’d show no sign of weakness. “Then I guess you’re here to end this party for me.”
The chancellor nodded. “I am, but not in the way you think, Cord. Delaney’s body was found two days ago. But here’s the kicker—the coroner’s preliminary report says he’d been in that shallow grave for no more than ten to fourteen days. The doc will be able to pinpoint the time of death more accurately when the tests are all finished, but that could take another week or more.”
The chancellor’s smile was more genuine now. “However, all things considered, I suspect you have an irrefutable alibi for that particular time frame.”
Chapter 2
Cord’s knees melted away as the import of Olivia’s announcement finally sank in. When he felt them start to give, he lurched over to lean against her transport, holding himself upright by the ragged edges of his self-control. Olivia opened the door and motioned him into the front seat. Inside, Cord laid his head back and closed his eyes, waiting for the world to quit spinning backward. Finally, he looked up at the chancellor who now held Cord’s fate in her hands.
For the first time, he allowed himself to use his private nickname for her. “I’m sorry, Livi, but you’re going to have to spell it out for me. What exactly does all of this mean?”
She squatted down so they were eye to eye. “It means that I drove all the way out here to pick you up and bring you home myself to make sure there weren’t any glitches. I went to the judge who ruled on your case and had him order you remanded over to my personal custody before all the paperwork could be processed. That’s not exactly normal procedure, but I convinced him I needed your help with this investigation.”
Before Cord could ask another question, the chancellor’s expression turned grim.
“By the way, when I contacted the warden about all of this, I got the distinct impression that you’re not his favorite inmate. That jerk wanted to keep you locked up until we catch the actual killer or at least until the coroner’s report officially clears your name.”
Her fangs were showing again. “I had to remind the bastard what the penalty was for unlawful imprisonment. After I pointed out that I could always order a complete review of all his records, he told me where I could pick you up. I’ll be keeping an eye on him, though. I don’t trust the little weasel not to trump up some bogus charge against you just for grins. As soon as you’re officially in the clear, I will be launching that review.”
She rose to her feet, her smile definitely looking deadly. “In fact, I’ve already frozen his files so he can’t spend the next few days cleaning house. I’ll teach him to mess with me or my clients.”
Cord hated to feel grateful to anyone, especially someone who’d been part of the legal machine that had sent him to prison in the first place. But for her, he’d make an exception.
“Thanks, Livi. I owe you one.”
“Like heck you do. We both know that if we’d all done our jobs right fifteen years ago, you wouldn’t have ended up here at all.”
He met her gaze head-on. “But you’re here now, Livi. That counts for something.”
The chancellor looked uncomfortable with Cord’s gratitude; or maybe it was his pet name for her. “Let me get one of the guards to remove those shackles, and then we’re out of here.”
The ride back to New Eire took more than five hours, most of them spent in silence while Cord tried to come to terms with the abrupt change in his circumstances. Along the way, he devoured the cooler of fresh blood packs that Olivia had brought for him. Gods above, when was the last time he’d been able to drink his fill? Already he could feel his former strength returning.
As they left the guards and prisoners behind, Olivia had offered to swing by the prison to pick up any personal items Cord might want to retrieve, but he’d told her not to bother. He didn’t want souvenirs from the total disaster his life had become. His ruined voice and the permanent scars on his wrists and ankles from the shackles would be enough of a reminder.
A couple of questions needed to be asked. “Does my family know? How about Francine?”
“Not yet. Ambrose thought we should keep this quiet for the time being.”
That was all right with him. He didn’t want to think about why the woman he was engaged to let him rot in prison for fifteen years without a single word, not even a notice that their engagement was officially over. Yeah, there was a thought guaranteed to warm a man’s heart. The funny thing was that after fifteen long years, he could barely remember what Francine looked like.
Had he ever really loved her? He’d like to think he had. Maybe. After all this time, who the hell knew or even cared?
As they pulled up in front of an elegant brick home, he looked over at his escort. “Impressive. Definitely a step up from where I’ve been living.”
Olivia shut off the engine. “It’s Ambrose O’Brien’s place. He wanted to talk to you, so we’re staying here for the day.”
Cord hadn’t seen his old friend since the trial and wasn’t sure he wanted to now. Looked like he had little choice in the matter, though, since the man himself was headed straight for them.
Cord rolled down his window. “That’s quite a place you’ve got there, Ambrose. What did you do? Rob a bank?”
Was the big, tough chancellor actually blushing? “The place belongs to my wife’s clan.”
Okay, that was news. “I hadn’t heard you’d gotten married. I guess congratulations are in order.”
The chancellor smiled. “Thanks. Her name is Miranda Connor—well, Miranda O’Brien now.”
Cord recognized the name. Her family’s estate was in the same district as where his family lived. “Will she mind you dragging your work home with you?”
“It was her suggestion, actually, and she sends her apologies for not being here to meet you. She still has to spend a lot of time on family business, so she’s back at the estate conferring with her mother.”
Or maybe Ambrose was protecting her from a potentially violent vampire who’d just spent fifteen years in
