Page 27 of Fortune’s Control (Fortune’s Creek #1)

I leaned against the doorjamb and stared down at the two Atlanta detectives. Their decision to drive all the way to Fortune’s Creek when a phone call would have been sufficient raised my hackles.

The back door opened, and Jack’s familiar heavy steps followed our trail of raised voices. He stuck his head into the formal living room and noted Lilah sitting cross-legged in an old rocking chair. “These are the cops?”

“Yep,” I said. The older one, Detective Davis, grew alert at our brief exchange and rose from the love seat to introduce himself. “I’ll be out when this is done.”

Jack, not interested in a round of polite introductions, left.

“Is your friend not up for company?” Davis asked.

Davis’s smile brought out laugh lines around his face.

He was older than me, in his early forties, and wore what Lilah described as police officer hair.

The description confused me until the detectives arrived, and now I understand.

Their neat, well-shorn hair contained the same side part and minimal sideburns.

They also came with the same lean figures, height, and blue sports coat.

The only difference between Davis and Moore is that one sported premature gray around his temples.

Fascinating.

“We’re working on a project together,” I said.

He motioned toward the empty day chair. “Please sit. This isn’t an interrogation, just a few follow-ups on behalf of our local D.A. You’re welcome to stay. ”

This was my house. I bit back a response and took the empty chair. We chose the formal living room near the front door for today’s visit. I didn’t appreciate strangers in my home, no matter their profession, or Lilah associating this house with any part of her attack.

Davis returned to his spot and offered Lilah a gentle smile.

The bit of gray above his ears caught in the room’s yellow light, causing it to sparkle.

“Like I said, this is a check-in. The trial starts soon, so we’re here to make sure there are no surprises, especially considering your recent incident. ”

Detective Moore’s scowl deepened. “Tell us again what happened.”

Lilah repeated her story, including the part where she saw Wilson Skane in his familiar black hoodie as he drove past. She wrung her hands the entire time, throwing me a few glances.

Her shoulders slumped as her grip tightened, turning her hands into two deep claws. “He said I was next. That night, when I found them, he said I was next. I know it was him.”

I wanted to end this, and not for the first time.

I didn’t trust either detective and couldn’t decide if it was because of some unstated reason or if my possessiveness over Lilah couldn’t handle their presence.

All I knew was that she trusted me to keep her safe, and I’d damn well do so.

Wilson Skane, or whoever attacked her, would regret it.

I crossed my arms and reminded myself again that kicking them out would be unhelpful.

Moore rubbed his lower lip as Lilah spoke. His slow nods struck me as patronizing. “Are you certain it was him?”

“Wilson Skane. I realize my past statements are inconsistent.” Lilah waffled. “It was so dark, and I never saw his entire face, but it was him in that car. I know it.”

Moore didn’t believe her. “Skane is in Atlanta. His ankle monitor showed no suspicious activity, and we asked a patrol officer to perform a drive-by after the local sheriff told us about your attack.”

Davis tried his gentler approach. “He was at his parents’ home, and they vouched for his presence the entire day. Parents aren’t always reliable regarding alibis like this one, but in this case, we believe them.”

“He was in Atlanta that day?” Lilah asked and glanced at me. Her voice trembled. “That’s impossible.”

Moore opened a dark leather satchel, pulling out a manila envelope. “Are you familiar with photo lineups?”

His sharp question threw her off. “I…yes. We did one after you arrested him. I messed it up.”

Davis leaned forward to speak in a voice meant to provide comfort. “Lineups are only one tool out there. Witness recall is shaky, even under the best circumstances, so please don’t feel guilty over it.”

Moore slapped several photos on the coffee table, one after the other. “Can you identify the man who attacked you here in town?”

Lilah shut her eyes tight to block out the six images.

“Take your time and do your best. There’s no wrong answer,” Davis encouraged.

“Tell us which one is Skane, Ms. Mayberry.” Moore shoved the pictures closer to her.

A cold anger grew in my stomach. Her agitation was visible to anyone who took the time to notice. “I suggest you tread slowly,” I said, and shot the detective a stern glare.

He glared right back. “She’s a witness throwing a wrecking ball at our case. We fully intend to follow up, to my satisfaction.”

“Is she under arrest?” I asked.

Davis didn’t hesitate. “Not at all. This is a follow-up.”

“Then I repeat my words.”

Lilah shrank into her chair.

Davis tried again. “I understand this is a difficult time for you, Ms. Mayberry. A loss such as this is painful for everyone involved. My younger sister was the victim’s age when she was murdered, and I still wait for justice.

That’s all this case is about. Take your time and let us know if you recognize anyone in the photos. There is no right or wrong answer.”

Lilah leaned forward and checked each image. “I don’t recognize any of them. They’re close, but this one is clean-shaven, and this one only has a mustache. None of them is Wilson Skane.”

“This one is.” Moore slammed his palm over the picture closest to her. “He’s in Atlanta right now and hasn’t left.”

She jumped at the noise.

He went on. “Empty beer cans and a blue sweatshirt were found inside the vehicle. The nearby university’s colors are blue and orange. Is it possible you saw the wrong color?”

Lilah looked at me, and her eyes glistened. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Maybe reconsider your accusations before blowing up a murder case, Ms. Mayberry.”

I stood. “We’re done here.”

Moore went on. “You wouldn’t be the first hysterical woman to accuse an innocent man. A college student stole the car for a night of entertainment. That’s it.”

“Detective Davis, I suggest you remove your partner from my house.” Right fucking now.

“Is that a threat?” Moore stood. “You’re speaking to a police officer. ”

“A cop who isn’t in his jurisdiction,” I reminded him. “And I don’t make threats.”

“Dammit.” Davis pulled his hand into a partial fist. “He gets that way, so let me apologize on his behalf.”

“She’s threatening our case, Davis.”

“She’s done no such thing.” They could take their bickering outside my house and my town. “You two need to leave.” I used my size to push them out of the living room and towards the front door. Lilah didn’t follow, which suited me fine.

Davis handed me a card. “My contact info if you ever need it.”

I took it, not particularly caring. “If you speak to her again, or even think about coming near her, you’ll deal with me first. Now, both of you, get the hell out.”

I waited until their vehicle left my driveway and disappeared before returning to Lilah. She hadn’t moved.

“You look worn out.”

Her head fell forward so her chin and neck touched. She glanced up at me through her soft brown eyes and frowned. “I must look awful if that’s the best compliment you can find.”

I twirled some of the tighter curls along her forehead around my finger and released them. “They won’t be back.”

“I made the entire thing up. That’s what they think.”

“That guy is a prick.”

“One fact doesn’t negate the other.”

“The hell it doesn’t. Come on, sit with me.” I pulled her up, guiding her to the formal sofa. Its previous occupants were the first to use it in over a year, and we were the second. “Isn’t this better?” I asked once my arms were around her.

“Will you hold me every time I describe my horrible day, or even mention some minor complaint, even the petty ones?”

“If it works.”

“Oh, it works. What did I see if I didn’t make it up?”

The question gave me pause. Evidence showed Wilson Skane was hours away and not responsible for the attack two days ago.

A random college kid asking Pete about her made little sense.

The two detectives had a suspect and a solved case; Lilah’s assertions threatened both.

“It was real, and I’m here to protect you. ”

“You shouldn’t. I’m a hopeless mess, Shane.

It’s my destiny, so there’s no escaping it.

Forever and ever.” Lilah put her hand on my chest and squirmed so we faced each other.

“I’ll move from one calamity to another.

Job losses, missing grandmothers, broken phones, and crazy killers.

You’ve done nothing but fix my problems since the beginning. ”

I’ve heard variants of this speech and dismissed every one of them. If she thought today would bring a different result, I’d disabuse her of that real quick. “Forever and ever? Do you promise?”

Her stern expression almost made me laugh. “That isn’t funny. I’m a burden, a mess. Maybe I should move out. We agreed to an annulment, so maybe this is the right time. Maybe we should end this before I bring more disaster into your life.”

Lilah considered herself a mess, when that was never the problem.

She suffered from low self-esteem, which I put at her mother’s feet.

“How about we add another maybe to your list? Maybe we do none of those things, and you stay here with me.” Where she belonged.

Lilah knew better than to believe I’d ever let her go.

She’d confessed her concerns about Wilson Skane before.

No evidence or proof, only a few wisps of doubt and instinct whispering that the police had the wrong guy.

Lilah listened to the part of herself that brought her to Fortune’s Creek.

It’d serve us both well to hear the rest because if she doubted, so did I.

She opened her mouth to argue, so I beat her to it. “That list will keep growing. You want to hear more of them? Maybe I love your mess. Maybe I don’t regret a damn thing. Maybe you drop this entire line of conversation. Is that enough of them for you, or should I keep going?”

“Are you trying to make me cry?”

I wanted her to acknowledge that the decision was final. “Not at all.” I lowered my voice. “I’m trying to convince you.”

“I’m not moving out,” she said.

As if that was ever an option. “Delighted to hear it.” I crooked my finger, and she leaned in, arching her back to reach my lips.

We kissed as I moved her until she straddled my hips. I unbuckled my belt and pulled down the zipper.

She moaned my name, and my cock begged for release.

Our lips parted just enough for me to murmur a few words. “Hold on. I have you.”

I lifted my hips as gratitude for my running and strength training hit. The strength in my thighs helped compensate for the lack of leverage when lifting her. Working together, our hands grabbed and yanked, pulling at my trousers until my cock sprang free.

I stroked my cock while maneuvering my other hand between her thighs.

“Your shirt. Take it off.”

Lilah’s sudden command caused my stomach to flex as I rushed to do as told. She kissed my chest and stomach as her hands roamed and squeezed. She moved off me, and her mouth covered my cock. I inhaled a deep, husky breath and held it in.

My fingers combed through her soft hair, wanting to touch her while letting her maintain control. Lilah’s head bobbed, and my hips followed her motion as I sought a release.

Her wet mouth and hands squeezed as I tensed and pulled her off. Lilah’s mouth let go with a pop as she gazed up at me through hooded eyes and swollen lips.

“I want to finish inside you. Lay down.” I stood, pushing Lilah down until she lay draped across the small couch. “Get these off.”

She lifted her hips and shimmied as I grabbed her panties and shoved my trousers further down. I put my left knee on the sofa for balance and slammed into her. Her back arched as she hissed.

I kept going, pounding into her in search of my release. It didn’t take long before I groaned, sputtering as I came.