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“Thought you wanted to know about Bart and his business partner?”
“I do.”
“If you ask me, Harold is the one the cops should be investigating. Bart held the majority share in the company. Fifty-one percent. With Vaughn in California and clearly no desire to ever work for his father, old Harry could have easily assumed he’d get to be the big boss if Bart was out of the picture. Seems like a pretty good motive to me.”
It was, and good information to have.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about what Kian had said about Vaughn. “Were the two of you together?”
“Me and Bart?” Kian coughed.
“I meant Vaughn, but should I ask about you and Bart? In theory, you have a good motive for murder too.”
He stopped running to stare at me. “Why on earth would I kill him?”
I was grateful for the break and took my sweet-ass time, doubled over with my hands on my knees while I sucked in giant lungfuls of air. “Because you were jealous of my mom maybe? Maybe you were in love with Bart? Maybe you were in love with both of them? You could have been having threesomes every night for all I know.”
“Pfft. Your mom would have told you if we were banging.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. Because I know Miranda had no filter, much the way you don’t.” He grinned down at me. “Trust me. If we’d been screwing, you would know about it. That’s how good I am.”
I cocked my head to one side. “You know, when guys talk themselves up like that, they’re normally compensating for something.”
He started up a slow jog again, running backward this time so I could see the devilish smile on his face. “If you ever want to find out, I’m just on the other side of the bathroom. Speaking of which, first one home gets first shower. And there’s limited hot water, just so you know.”
He took off running, leaving me trailing behind, my calf twinging with pain and my chest aching from exertion. By the time I got back upstairs, the water was already running in our shared bathroom, and Kian was singing a Christina Aguilera song at the top of his lungs.
“Ugh!” I was a hot and sweaty mess, and Kian was infuriating.
Vaughn appeared in the doorway and leaned on it. “He do that thing where he makes you race him home for the shower?”
“Yes!”
“He’s annoying when he does that. I could never beat him either. Come with me.”
“I’m hot and grumpy and tired, Vaughn. I think I pulled a muscle while I was running as gracefully as a gazelle.”
“I saw you through the window. Your legs are too short to be gazelle-like. It was more like watching a chicken with its head cut off.”
I glared at him. “I really don’t know why I moved in here.”
He smirked at me. “Come on. You want to get Kian back? I didn’t grow up with him not to know his pet hates. Cold water is one of them. I swear he got fast just because he never wants to be second in the shower.”
That I could get behind. I limped after him, my supposed chicken leg knotted with cramps. I followed Vaughn down into the laundry room where he made a show of leaning on the sink. He flicked up the handle, letting hot water pour from the faucet. Then he held one finger up, telling me to wait.
“Vaughn!” Kian yelled from upstairs. “You traitor! You did not tell her the laundry runs off the same hot water heater! Where is your loyalty?”
He shrugged. “Apparently with the chicken-legged, house-stealing, face-riding roach.”
On his tongue, it almost sounded like a compliment.
26
REBEL
I was rubbing the cramp out of my calf when Kian came crashing back into my bedroom, hair dripping wet, water droplets all over his chest, and a towel wrapped around his waist.