Page 31 of Convincing Alex (Stanislaskis #4)

“It’s bad,” he concurred, then brought the snifters to the couch. “Here. Drink a little.”

“It’s all right. I don’t make scenes.”

He tilted the brandy toward her lips himself. “Just a little, milaya . ”

She closed her eyes and did as he asked. He couldn’t say that sweet word to her in that loving tone if he’d changed his mind.

“Okay.” A deep breath, and she opened her eyes again.

“There was another murder last night.”

“Oh, Alexi.” Instantly the image of Crystal LaRue’s mangled body flashed behind her eyes. “Oh, God.” She caught his hand in

hers and squeezed. “Last night?”

“The desk clerk found her this morning. They had an arrangement. She only used that room for work, and he was ticked that

she hadn’t checked out and slipped him his usual tip.” He was taking it slow, deliberately, so that the general horror would

pass before he hit her with the specifics. Again he tipped the brandy up to her lips. “She’d rented the room three times last

night. He caught a glimpse of the third john when they went up, so we’ve had him looking over mug shots most of the day.”

“You’ll catch him.”

“Oh, yeah. There’s no doubt about it this time. He didn’t find the guy in the books, but he gave the police artist a fair

description. We’ll be broadcasting it. This time we should have his blood type, too. DNA. Couple of other things.”

“You’ll have him soon.”

“Not soon enough. Bess, the woman...” His fingers tightened on hers, but he told her the worst as gently as he knew how.

“It was Rosalie.”

She only stared, and he watched, helpless, as the color simply slid out of her face. “No.” She was tugging her hand from his,

but he only held tighter. “You’re wrong. You made a mistake. I just saw her. I just talked to her a couple of days ago.”

“There’s no mistake.” His voice toughened, for her sake. “I ID’d her myself. Rechecked that with prints, and the desk clerk’s

ID. Bess, it was Rosalie.”

The moan came out brokenly as she wrapped her arms around herself and began to rock. “Don’t,” she said when he tried to gather

her close. “Don’t, don’t, don’t.”

She sprang up, needing the distance, desperate to find something to do with the helpless rage that was building inside her.

“She didn’t have to die. It isn’t right. It isn’t right for her to die like that.”

“It’s never right.”

It was his tone, the cool detachment of it, that had her whirling on him. “But she was just a hooker. Don’t get involved,

right? Don’t feel anything. Isn’t that what you told me?”

He went very still, as if she’d pulled a gun and taken aim. “I guess I did.”

“I wanted to help her, but you told me I couldn’t. You told me it was a waste of my time and energy. And you were right, weren’t

you, Alexi? How fine it must be to always be so right.”

He took the blow. What else could he do? “Why don’t you sit down, Bess? You’ll make yourself sick.”

She wanted to break something, to smash it—but nothing was precious enough. “I cared, damn you. I cared about her. She wasn’t just a story line to me. She was a person. All she wanted was to go south, buy a

trailer.” When her breath began to hitch, she covered her mouth with her hands. “She shouldn’t have died like that.”

“I wish I could change it.” The bitter sense of failure turned his voice to ice. “I wish to God I could.” Before he realized

the glass was leaving his hand, he was heaving the snifter against the wall. “How do you know what I felt when I walked into

that filthy room and found her like that? How the hell do you know what it’s like to face it and know you couldn’t stop it?

She was a person to me, too.”

“I’m sorry.” The tears that spilled over now spilled for all of them. “Alexi, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He tossed back. “It was the truth.”

“Facts. Not truth.” He’d tried to soften the blow, to cushion her when his own emotions were raw. He’d needed to comfort.

His eyes had been dazed with fatigue and pain and the kind of grief she might never understand, but he’d needed to shield

her. And she hadn’t allowed it. “Hold me, please. I need you to hold me.”

For a moment she was afraid he wouldn’t move. Then he crossed to her. Though his arms were rigid with tension, they came around

her.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she murmured, but he only shook his head and stroked her hair. Grieving, she turned her face

into his throat. “I wanted to make it a lie somehow. To make you wrong so it could all be wrong.” She squeezed her eyes closed

and held tight. “She was somebody.”

He stared blankly over her shoulder as he remembered one of the last things Rosalie had said to him. She treats me like somebody. “I know.”

“You’ll catch him,” she said fiercely.

“We’ll catch him. We’ll put him away. He won’t hurt anybody else.” Though her words still scraped against him, he rocked her.

He would tell her the rest and hoped it helped. “She had a knife.”

“I saw it. She showed me.”

“She used it. I don’t know how bad she hurt him, but she put up a hell of a fight. It’s recorded.”

“Recorded?” Eyes dull with shock, she leaned back. “My God. The tape. I gave her my mini recorder.”

“I figured as much. For whatever consolation it is, the fact that you did give it to her, and she decided to use it, is going

to make a difference. A big one.”

“You heard them,” she said through dry lips. “You heard—”

“We got everything, from the deal on the street until... the end. Don’t ask me, Bess.” He lifted a hand to cup her face.

“Even if I could tell you what was on the tape, I wouldn’t.”

“I wasn’t going to ask. I don’t think I could bear to know what happened in that room.”

Calmer now, he searched her face. “I’ve only got a few hours. I have to go in first thing in the morning. Do you want me to

stay with you tonight, or would you rather I go?”

She’d hurt him more than she’d realized. Perhaps the only way she could heal the wound was to admit, and to show him, that

she needed comfort. Needed it from him. Drawing him close, she laid her head on his shoulder.

“I want you with me, Alexi. Always. And tonight—I don’t think I’d make it through tonight without you.”

She began to cry then. Alex picked her up and carried her to the couch, where they could lie down and grieve together.