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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

A pparently, she hadn’t learned anything from the scolding she’d given herself after the kiss .

Nina blinked at the bedside table and caught the time on the clock. They’d slept in, but she still wanted to burrow in and lie in Robert’s warmth for another hour or so. If she’d thought the man was delicious before… Aye, she clearly hadn’t learned.

They needed to get a move on. Get dressed and find a way to?—

A knock sounded at the front door. Nina perked her head up. Who was that?

Another rattle.

Clearly someone impatient.

Nina tried to move her legs, only to realise they were tangled with Robert’s. He’d all but pinned her down. Just like last night. His arm lay across her torso, his leg over hers. Somewhere in the night, he’d ensconced her against his chest.

Hell, she hadn’t slept this well in ages.

Bang!

Nina startled. Even Robert’s gentle snores broke off, and his arm lifted.

Bang!

They both sat up in bed, staring at the door.

Nina flicked the bedside light on and saw what the night had hidden.

Robert had muscles. But he didn’t flex cartoon muscles like a superhero. No, he sported the sort of muscles you got when you spent all day in a physically demanding job. Like a farmer, a construction worker or, apparently, a cop.

Fuck, she’d licked those abs last night. And even now her fingers ached to reach out and trace those lines. To feel his tender skin?—

Bang!

Robert jumped out of bed, giving her a flash of his own enthusiasm for her. Unfortunately, the glorious sight disappeared into his trousers.

Nina’s senses finally kicked in. There was someone at the door!

She too jumped up, not bothering to cover herself. He had seen – hell, licked – every inch of her. She shivered at the memory and found her own clothes.

Robert was stuffing his feet into shoes when Nina found her T-shirt.

Somehow, her clothes were scattered all over the floor while his had lain in one spot. A minute later, Nina stumbled out of the bedroom just as Robert pulled the front door open.

‘Why didn’t you answer the door?’ the voice boomed through the space before DI Cheryl Spiers walked in. ‘What?—?’

Cheryl caught sight of Robert and stopped speaking. While Robert had buttoned up his shirt perfectly, it wore all the markings of a garment that had spent the night crumpled on the floor. And the pillow marks on his cheek didn’t lie – he’d been sleeping – and he’d clearly had a woman’s fingers clutching and tugging his hair.

When Cheryl’s eyes found Nina, framed in the corridor with, she was sure, a similar look, the DI figured it out. ‘Good God, Robert! You’ve got to be shitting me.’

‘Er…’ Robert cleared his throat. ‘Hello to you too.’

‘Don’t fucking “hello” me! You had sex!’

‘In my life, I have. Aye.’

Cheryl’s wide eyes met Nina’s, then she smacked Robert’s chest. ‘The last I heard she was your chief suspect. Now here I am, and you both stink of sex. Hell, this entire flat does.’

‘Please don’t?—’

Whatever Robert was about to say died when another man swaggered through the door, his grin wide.

‘I told you,’ the man said then nodded at Nina. ‘I’m Joshua. I think I remember you from the pub.’

Joshua MacLeod – the one who’d arrested Shah at the pub. She’d briefly seen him before her escape. Nina nodded her greeting.

Robert smacked the door closed and stared at his friends. ‘Why are you both here?’

Cheryl whirled round from where she’d been peeking out the windows. ‘You’re just lucky I didn’t use my keys! Jeez.’

Nina rolled her eyes. This was getting weird. It wasn’t like she’d spent the night with a man who lived with two other roommates. So why did she have to experience this walk of shame after her spectacular night? Besides, this was her flat!

Nina stalked to the kitchen in dire need of coffee and breakfast. Everything else could wait.

When she reached for the coffee and French press, Cheryl entered the kitchen. ‘I’d get dressed if I were you. DCI Dickinson is on his way.’

‘Dickheadson?’ Robert growled. ‘Why’s he coming here?’

The colour drained from Nina’s face. If the presence of three police officers in her living room hadn’t affected her before, a DCI Robert didn’t like did. ‘Who’s that?’

‘A dick,’ Joshua said as he bit into a Digestive. ‘And our – Robert’s and mine – boss.’

‘Wh-Why is he coming here?’ Really, Nina? Somewhere in the back of her head, despite all the running away, she had always known. A fire could only keep the forensic experts at bay for so long. They’d found something; they’d?—

The buzzer sounded, and Nina jumped, losing her grip on the French press. The container plummeted to the floor, landing with a loud smack. Glass shattered into a million minuscule shards.

Nina shut her eyes, the urge to run so tangible, she could taste it. Robert had hit the nail on the head. She ran – that’s what she did. It had saved her before. Only now, she stood surrounded by cops, with no way out.

‘Why is he coming here?’ she mumbled, as if they hadn’t heard her the first time.

When Nina opened her eyes, she saw Cheryl digging into the cabinet under the sink. ‘Don’t you have a wee broom?’

‘Why are they here?’ Nina fisted her hands but realised even her fists were shaking. Run, run, run. ‘Tell me!’

Cheryl smacked the cabinet door closed, a brush and dustpan in hand. ‘Forensics don’t lie, Nina. And thanks to a smart camera that you accessed’ – Cheryl shrugged – ‘we can now prove that you were at the crime scene and that you killed someone.’

‘What camera?’

Cheryl began gathering the shards of glass. ‘Your colleague’s camera. The moment you restarted it, it connected to the cloud and his gadgets.’

Oh fuck!

Robert had been frozen in the centre of the living room, tuned in to their conversation. Now he strode towards the kitchen counter. ‘Who did she kill?’

Seriously? After the night they’d shared, he’d ask Cheryl that and not turn to Nina and offer… help?

Joshua butted in now, eyes wide. ‘Dickheadson wouldn’t say. He doesn’t want anyone else to take the credit for it.’

‘Fuck credit!’ Robert roared. ‘Who did she kill?’

Another knock came at the door followed by a rattling bang. Nina whimpered. She faced Robert, eyes begging for him to do something. Hell, to open the damn window and help her out.

But she wasn’t a fairy-tale princess, the protagonist in a superhero story or even an innocently convicted criminal.

And Robert wasn’t her white knight.

Cheryl headed to the door, her ponytail swinging behind her. With every thud of her boots on the carpet, Nina’s heart sank lower. The looseness from last night solidified into stress.

Nina sank her teeth into her lower lip, knowing this was it. Her doom.

The door swung open and a man stepped in. His eyes were beady, hooded under a pair of thick, overgrown eyebrows. He spotted her at once – then noticed the state she was in before he found Robert and actually fucking giggled. ‘Oh aye, now this is better than what I thought I was getting.’

His teeth had yellowed and decayed, just like the man he was. He waddled in, two uniformed cops in tow. ‘Nina Banerjee, at last we meet.’

This had to be Dickheadson. She got the nickname. Hell, he’d uttered just a few words and she loathed him already.

The man walked further in, holding up a printed sheet of paper. ‘I’ve got a warrant to seize and search your belongings, and a warrant for your arrest. Now you can run, but seeing as you’re surrounded by cops, that will only make this worse for you.’

Nina crossed her arms in front of her chest. It gave her the appearance of being intimidating, or so she hoped. Plus, it hid her shaking hands.

Out the corner of her eye, standing diagonally across from Dickheadson was Robert. The fire in his eyes, all that passion with which he’d held her, kissed her, hell, made love to her had vanished. Now he resembled the same man who’d accused her of killing his wife.

After giving Nina a once-over, Robert turned to his boss. ‘Why are you here?’

Dickheadson tilted his head, a frown corrugating the dry patch of skin between his brows. ‘I thought you’d know, as you’ve been aiding a criminal and obstructing justice. Didn’t she tell you she was a killer?’

Robert pushed off the counter. He was so burly that he towered over Dickheadson. His sudden move had Dickheadson flinching. It gave Nina a modicum of satisfaction to see the man was afraid of Robert.

‘Who did she kill?’ Robert asked so softly it shouldn’t have had the resonance it did. But the question sent a chill zinging up her back. Her heart stammered, waiting for the answer.

Dickheadson’s lost smirk resurfaced. He too crossed his arms, his jacket pulling at the shoulders. ‘Playing coy, are we? I don’t care. You’re going down with her. John saw you escape with her.’ Dickheadson jerked a thumb at one of the police constables.

It was the same officer who’d stalled them in the alley. He now bobbed his head. ‘I saw you both escaping. And you got away from the DI and from me.’

Dickheadson shook his head. ‘Cheryl, you were a part of this?’

Cheryl raised an eyebrow. ‘You can’t pin anything on me. Tell Robert what you’ve found.’

‘He’s suspended and this is none of his business.’ Dickheadson jerked his head at Nina. ‘Nina Banerjee, I’m arresting you on suspicion of assault, arson, two counts of murder, several counts of disturbing public peace, fraud and breaking and entering. You do not have to say anything…’

Nina stood rooted to the spot, letting the words she’d struggled so much to keep at bay wash over her. Two counts of murder?

Her eyes drifted to Robert’s. He studied her, as if the answers to what she’d done were inked all over her face.

When Dickheadson was finally done, and a police constable cuffed her, Nina stuttered out a long breath. ‘Ro-Robert – I didn’t… Two counts of murder?’

Dickheadson snorted out a laugh. ‘Lover boy can’t do anything for you. If there was one thing he was right about, it was that Anne Muller’s death wasn’t an accident. You killed her, and then your camera guy. And all because you wanted the fame for yourself, Ms Investigative Journalist.’

Two people? She’d killed two people. For fame? No way in hell was that possible. What she’d told Robert was true. She’d become an investigative journalist to tell the truth. Not for the fame or to spin a tale.

Nina peered over the police constable’s shoulder to look at Robert. Even when they tugged at her cuffs to lead her out, she fought, whimpering, ‘Robert, please, you have to believe me.’

But her lover boy was gone. Hell, even her partner was gone. In the place of the man Billy had described as one of the good ones was a man of steel. And he wore a smile, a tilt of his lips that was a thousand times worse than what Dickheadson sported.

Right before they dragged her away, Robert finally spoke. ‘As you said, Nina, humans drift in and out of each other’s lives. This is where we part. Only, you’ll get what’s due to you, and I finally got what I wanted: justice for my wife.’