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She opened her mouth to blast him with all the reasons she would never believe a word he said, when he spoke up.
“But I’ll be happy to answer it again.” He looked right in her eyes. “I don’t know where he is. He didn’t kill your aunt. And I’m here to help find the person who’s guilty.”
“By napping on my sofa? Uninvited,” she blurted out, pushing aside her own guilt of snooping in his cabin. Baxter raised his paw and gently placed it on her knee. She offered him another soft scratch behind his ear.
“The door wasn’t locked.”
Yeah, she’d used that excuse, too. “It’s still wrong.” She lifted her hand from the dog and slipped it on her hip.
He stepped closer and smiled. “And it seems I’m not the only one … in the wrong. Did you go through my clothes? What? Were you curious if I was a boxers or briefs guy?”
How the hell did he know I was there? She tightened her eyes at him. “Your undies don’t concern me.”
“Not even a little bit?” His smiled widened. “Not that I blame you, I mean, I got to go through yours the first day we met.”
“Still a Panty Perv, huh?” she asked through tight lips, remembering how he’d found her backpack and later commented about her underwear.
“Just a Della perv.” He laughed.
When she shot him her best go-to-hell look, he stopped laughing. “Okay, so maybe you weren’t going through my … undies, as you call them, but you were at my cabin. I smell the fresh paint.” He reached for her.
“Stop!” She pointed a finger at him. “The only reason I’m tolerating your presence right now is that I need to get my dad off a murder charge. So either tell me something about that, or leave.”
She stomped her foot and waited to see if he was going to tell her more about Douglas Stone and this Williams character. Not that any of it meant her uncle was innocent. But perhaps Chase thought he was. Perhaps her uncle had him fooled.
He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m here to help, Della.” The tease in his eyes faded as he stared at her. “Did Burnett tell you that I resigned from the council and I’m working for the FRU?”
“Yeah, he gave me the bad news.”
He cut his eyes up as if her answer annoyed him. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“Wanted. Past tense. You lied to me.”
“I’m telling the truth now. I’m not hiding anything. Ask me anything, I’ll tell you.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t belong to the truth-will-set-you-free liar’s club.” She growled. “Are you dense enough to think you can come back here now and things will be the same?”
He closed his eyes as if frustrated.
Good. He deserved to be frustrated.
He opened his green eyes and looked back at her. “Della, don’t fight me. Work with me. We can do this. We’ll make it right.”
She shook her head. “There is no ‘we,’ Chase. There’s you and there’s me. I’ll work with you on the case, not even because I believe you don’t know where my uncle is. The only thing to make right is getting my father off. I don’t trust you. But right now you are the only lead I’ve got.”
He exhaled. “Then I guess I’ll have to win back your trust.”
“The likelihood of that happening is slim to none.” She tilted up her chin. Never let him say she didn’t give him fair warning.
He stood there, just staring. “Why are you still fighting what you feel?”
“Because I get to choose my destiny, not anyone else.” The moment Della said it, she realized how true it was.
“Who else would be choosing your destiny?”
“You. This bond. You did it knowing what would happen.”
“So you would have really preferred to die than to care about me?” He looked hurt, and while he deserved to feel that, too, she couldn’t deny that hurting him … hurt her.
