Truth Or Lies. Kylie Brant
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“I’m not going to have this conversation standing in the street.” His low smoky drawl was adamant. “Buzz me in.”
“This isn’t a good time for me.”
There was a moment of silence when she wondered what he was thinking. But when he spoke again finally, he sounded no less determined. “Then I’ll apologize for the inconvenience, but this won’t wait.”
“I’m afraid it’s going to have to.” She no more wanted to prolong this time with her father than she wanted Tremaine up here. And there was no way she could deal with the two men together.
She turned away from the intercom, fully expecting more demands. But it remained silent. Her father was staring at her, trepidation on his face. “What would a detective want with you?”
“It has nothing to do with you, Da.” Abruptly a wave of weariness swept over her. The day had started in a relaxed-enough fashion, but stress was seeping in, one layer at a time. Seeing that her words hadn’t wiped the worry from her father’s face, she added, “It’s something about work. A patient of mine. Let’s get back to what brought you here.”
Understanding had taken the place of concern in his expression. Understanding that, as it turned out, was totally misplaced. “You’re not in any kind of trouble, are you girl? Take some advice from your da—keep your cons out of your workplace. It’s cleaner that way.”
For one of the few times in her life, she was speechless. She stared at him, shocked that he knew her so little. And then shocked at herself for being surprised by that. She shook her head, gave a grim laugh. “Yeah, Da, I’m running scams in the hospital. Got a little betting pool going on the wheelchair races on the fourth floor.”
“Which brings me to why I’m here.” Although she didn’t quite follow his segue, she was glad he was finally getting to the point of his visit. Ryan reached for his bottle of water again. “I’ve got a chance to get in on a dandy little deal, and I think you can be a big help to me.”
“No.”
He went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “All I need is a list of people in the city with the kind of money needed to be interested in what I’ll be selling.”
Shae picked up the lid to her own bottle, screwed it on with more force than necessary. “Didn’t you hear me? I said no.”
“Names, that’s all I’m asking you for. Doctors have plenty of money and you must have contacts at the other hospitals, as well.” His tone became wheedling. “It’s not so much to give, Shae, to your dear old da you haven’t seen in years.” Pleased with his pitch, he tilted the bottle to his lips and drank. “Maybe you could arrange for an introduction or two, as well. I’ll do the rest.”
“I realize this is a difficult concept for you to understand, Da, but listen carefully. I’m not going to say it again.” She leaned over the counter, shoved her face close to his. “No.”
“You’ve got a streak of stubbornness in you, girl. Have to think you got it from your sainted mother’s side, God rest her soul.” Ryan did a quick sign of the cross, cast his gaze heavenward. “Can’t help but believe she’d frown on the way you’re treating your father right now.”
“You’ve always had a talent for believing whatever suited your purposes.” The irony in her voice was lost in the sound of her doorbell ringing. Her head jerked toward the door. She was the only occupant on this floor. It was rare for another tenant to come calling for any reason, with the occasional exception of TeKayla. Pushing away from the counter, she went to the door, looked out the peephole.
Somehow, the last person she’d expected to see there was Detective Cade Tremaine. She took a step back, and then another. But she couldn’t avoid his voice. “Open the door, Shae. It’d be useless to pretend you’re not in there.”
Dimly she was aware that Ryan was rapidly making his way to the staircase, ascending it. She could only assume he was looking for a place to hide until the detective left.
“How about if I just pretend you weren’t invited into the building?” Temper snapped in her words. “Oh, wait, that wouldn’t be pretense, would it? I told you it wasn’t a good time, Detective.”
“And I’m sorry about that.”
There was that voice again, the same one he’d used when he’d tried to convince her to help him with LeFrenz in I.C.U. The smooth drawl coated his raspy tones like thick sweet honey, designed to weaken the knees and elevate the pulse. But the fact that hers was pounding had nothing to do with him, she told herself firmly, and everything to do with the stress of the past hour.
“I won’t take up much of your time, Dr. O’Riley. Shae.” His voice dropped intimately on the last word, as if caressing the single syllable. “Let me in. I don’t want to talk to you through a door and I’m not going away. I can be very persistent.”
She didn’t need to be told that. Undecided, she threw a look over her shoulder. There was no sign of Ryan, and probably no reason to worry about him. He’d always had an aptitude for dodging the police.
Making her decision, she unlocked the dead bolt, swung open the door a few inches and surveyed him. “Persistent isn’t the word I would have used. Stubborn, maybe. Inconsiderate. Pesky.”
His mouth curved slightly. “Semantics. Are you going to let me in?”
She didn’t even need to think about her answer. “No.”
“Okay.” His easy acceptance didn’t fool her. This man’s will was like forged steel. He propped himself against the doorjamb, the position putting his face too close to hers. She wasn’t short, but he topped her five-foot eight by a good four inches. “I looked for you at the hospital last night.”
Wariness threaded through her. “I got off at five. I’m not back on again until tomorrow.”
“That’s what somebody said.” He wore jeans again today, old sneakers and a white shirt under an open leather jacket. His eyes were a little bloodshot and he hadn’t shaved recently. Either he’d gone on a bender last night or he hadn’t slept at all. Intuitively she knew it was the latter.
“Why are you here, Detective?” she asked bluntly. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner she could send him on his way. And then focus on dispatching Ryan with the same speed. Just the thought made her tired again.
“Do you think I could have a glass of water?” When she only blinked, his mouth curved again. “Got a bit parched standing out front trying to wheedle my way in here.”
“Since I didn’t let you in, I’m assuming you wheedled one of the other tenants.”
He gave a slow nod. “Nicest little old blue-haired lady. She had a mite more respect for my shield than you do.”
“Look, Detective—”
“That water?” he prompted.
Giving up, she turned away and strode toward the refrigerator, yanked it open. Taking out a bottle, she rose, only to find him standing inside the apartment, the door closed behind him, his