were large windows in the living room that allowed a broad view of the garden. Conversely, anyone interested would have a terrific view of those rooms from the garden if the lights were on. French doors between the windows allowed access into the room.
“It looks so…safe,” Nina murmured, staring into the room where the murder had taken place. She moved out of his reach and walked over, almost touching the glass-paned doors that were now shut, a yellow band taped across them.
She stooped a bit and examined the levers that served as door handles. Ryan watched, thinking idly how much he missed the land of round doorknobs. But he wouldn’t go back there. Not for anything.
What was she thinking about? he wondered. Was she bemoaning the loss of a brother, or gloating over the fact that she’d gotten her money’s worth from a hired killer? He exchanged a look with Joe, who pursed his lips as if he was wondering, too.
When she crouched farther down, ostensibly to examine the flower bed next to the window, Ryan stepped back just out of hearing and motioned for Joe to accompany him. Quickly, he related what new information he’d gotten from Forensics, which was little more than they had already guessed.
There was no need to reiterate what he wanted done in the way of investigating Nina. Joe was an expert at that and needed no direction.
“You want me back here tonight?” he asked Ryan.
“No, we’ll have to let the regulars handle security. The cameras are all set, right?”
“Maybe we could have used a couple more, but at least we’ve got the doors covered,” Joe assured him.
“Good. I need you on the BI.” Background investigations were Joe’s specialty, and God only knew there were enough of those to run.
Joe nodded, smiling slightly at the sight of Nina Caruso on her knees, bending over to part the foliage in the flower bed. “Searching for tracks,” he observed. “You should hire her. She seems quite thorough.”
“Bite your tongue,” Ryan said, turning so that he blocked Joe’s view of Nina. That cute little behind of hers was enticing enough when she was standing up. “Why don’t you go phone for a guard to get over here?” he suggested. “You need to grab a couple of hours’ sleep and then get started on the other business.”
As soon as Joe started around front, Ryan stepped across the flagstones nearer to Nina. “We might as well go unless you’ve found something we overlooked.”
She glanced up at him, frowning. “Did you check for footprints around here?”
“We found the head gardener’s, but he has an alibi. Would you care to question him?” Ryan reached down and helped her up.
She brushed the soil off her hands and straightened her short jacket and skirt. Her dark, silky hair had fallen forward over one eye. Ryan had the craziest urge to brush it back in place for her. He shoved his hands into his pockets instead and backed off.
“I’d like to see him now,” Nina said, taking a huge breath as if to fortify herself.
“The gardener?”
She rolled her eyes, then closed them. Probably praying for patience. “No. I would like to see Desmond.” Ryan watched her swallow hard and brace her shoulders in defiance of her fears. “His body.”
Ryan’s hand, acting independently of his better judgment, took Nina by the elbow as he escorted her around the building. The driver had returned with the limo, minus Pavelli, who was probably giving the king an earful about the uncooperative American investigator.
Though Ryan knew it might help him gain information about Nina, he wished she would change her mind about going to the morgue. Hell, he wouldn’t even go there if it wasn’t necessary. It was, however, and he would be going anyway, whether she went or not. “I could drop you at the apartment. Are you sure you want to do this?”
She snatched her arm away from him. “Yes. I have to see him. If nothing else, I need to say goodbye.”
For a long, tense moment, Ryan held her gaze, trying to judge how she would hold up. “This is not like viewing the dearly departed in a funeral home, Nina. He’s on a slab. In the morgue.”
“Has… has there been an autopsy?” Her voice had dropped to a whisper again as if she couldn’t bear to ask the question out loud.
“No, not yet.” But there would be. Probably late this afternoon. “If we’re going, we’d better go now and get it over with,” he suggested. “Sure you’re up to it?”
She nodded, clutching her purse with white-knuckled hands. He wanted to take them in his and warm them a little because they looked so cold. Damn, she was tying him in knots. What was with him, wanting to touch her every chance he got?
He hated that she dredged up his protective instincts. Hell, she was a suspect, for crying out loud. How was he supposed to stay objective when she was batting those big brown eyes, pursing her lips and making him want to do a caveman act? This was not like him, not at all.
Damn Lorenzo and his bright ideas anyway. Why hadn’t he sicced her on the police? They probably weren’t doing diddly down at the station.
In the States, a private investigator would never have been put in charge of something that so obviously fell under official police jurisdiction, but the cops here hadn’t had the experience he’d had and the king and Lorenzo knew that. For the first time, Ryan regretted the royal appointment. More to the point, he resented its unwritten other duties as assigned clause.
“Come on, then,” he said to Nina. She got into the car and he followed her. At least he got to ride in style when she was along. He was sorely tempted to break open that fancy bar and try to get her drunk before the next stop. He could use a shot himself, but he’d sworn off.
As they cruised through traffic toward the new part of San Sebastian and King Augustus Hospital, Ryan felt obliged to give her some preparation. “When we get there, you’ll wait in the corridor. There’s a camera, so you won’t actually have to go into the lab. You’ll be able to view—”
“No,” she interrupted. “I need to see him. Up close.”
Ryan leaned his head back against the seat and pressed his lips together to stifle a curse.
She laid a hand on top of his. It felt delicate. Cool. None too steady. “Please?”
He caved, knowing it was a mistake. “Okay.” God, he was such a pushover. He was never like this! Never. What was the matter with him today?
Ryan reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone and punched in the number of the morgue. Ryan figured the least he could do was notify Doc to clean up things as best he could for Nina.
Dr. Angelo answered the direct line himself.
“McDonough here,” Ryan said and skipped right over the usual pleasantries in the interest of time. “Look, Doc, I’m on my way over there now with the sister of Desmond Caruso. We won’t be using the viewer. Our ETA’s around twenty minutes. Can you manage?”
As he’d expected, Angelo tried to dissuade him, using the same arguments
