Page 73 of Wasted

“I overheard Dad on the phone with the lawyer.”

Victoria narrowed her eyes at Treese. “You overhear way too many things at that house.” She barely held back a reminder of what she’d taught Treese as a child regarding the evils of eavesdropping. One more lesson Treese had disregarded, even back then, when she’d made it her business to know all her siblings’ and friends’ secrets.

“You’ll be glad I did.” Treese pushed her lips out slightly, the expression she used to adopt when she was about to dig in and refuse to obey Victoria. “Because Dad also said he’ll do anything to keep this case from going to trial. So I’m with Robby. Dad would want us to help you.”

Victoria opened her mouth to point out he wouldn’t want that to entail his other children putting themselves in the crosshairs of a prideful detective.

A touch on her shoulder stopped her. And robbed her of breath.

Cillian’s thumb gently brushed her shoulder through her sweater. Barely a whisper, but the touch still sent shivers of awareness shooting up her spine. “How about we get into what you all have in mind?” He kept his attention on the others, not looking Victoria’s direction as he continued the circles with his thumb that would be comforting if his touch didn’t have such an electric effect on her.

“Well,” Treese didn’t miss a second starting off, “I thought maybe Torin could help.” She aimed her focus at the sergeant with the Chicago Police Department’s Major Accident Investigations Unit. “You probably know some detectives with the police, right? Maybe you could get them to realize Victoria is innocent?”

Torin shook his head. “Sorry, but the Thomas Briscoe murder is out of my jurisdiction. I do know a couple of cops who transferred there from the CPD. I contacted them, and they shared McCully is a bit of a bulldog and even more mule when it comes to sticking with the theory he thinks is right. He’ll focus on building the case that fits what his instincts are telling him, not the other way around. And he’s not open to much else.”

Cillian nodded, pausing his thumb’s caress of Victoria’s shoulder. “I can confirm that.” Everyone’s attention swung to him. “I took more information to him last night, and he wouldn’t even consider it.”

Victoria looked at Cillian with surprise. “You found something?”

He met her gaze, his handsome features so close she nearly forgot what she’d asked. “Yeah. Clinton Glenn drives a silver Mercedes, exactly the same as the getaway car of the guy we caught at Briscoe’s house.”

“Wait, you caught someone at Briscoe’s house?” Robert planted both feet on the floor and leaned forward.

“Yep.” Cillian looked across the coffee table at him. “Well, nearly caught him. He was ransacking Briscoe’s office, searching for something.” Cillian paused, shifting his hand to rest more fully on Victoria’s far shoulder as he looked at her for a moment. “He knocked Victoria down and ran out.”

Heat crawled up her neck toward her face, generating from her heart rate’s shift into overdrive, no doubt. Hopefully, none of her siblings would notice.

He shifted his protective gaze away to face the others. “I chased him, but he got into the Mercedes and drove off.”

“Did you get the plates?” Torin asked the natural police officer’s question.

“Too dark.”

“Why are we only hearing about this now?” Spring pinned Victoria with a disapproving stare.

A ready answer eluded Victoria. She’d never been on the receiving end of a question like that from her siblings. It was something she would say to them.

She quietly cleared her throat. “I wasn’t hurt. There was no reason to bother any of you with the information. You have your own lives and concerns to focus on.”

“Victoria, your life is part of ours.” Spring’s tone carried more urgency than the minor incident warranted. “We care about what happens to you.”

An awkward silence filled the room.

Victoria was supposed to care for them, not become a burden for them. She wouldn’t add stress or trauma to their lives through her own difficulties, wouldn’t distract them from their goals and success. And she wouldn’t quit the role of being the most stable, dependable, and loving person in their lives whom they could look up to and count on, no matter what. They still needed someone to fill those shoes their mother had worn, or at least to try.

“Thank you.” She gave Spring a nod. “I appreciate that.”

“So like I was saying…” Cillian followed her answer quickly, as if he’d been ready to end the silence. Was he trying to help her out again?

Her chest squeezed.

“McCully refused to even consider another suspect. He’s doubling down on building a case against Victoria. I don’t think he’ll pay attention to anything else, unless someone can show him the smoking gun.”

“So you think this man you found searching Briscoe’s home office is Clinton?” Robert glanced at Cillian and then Victoria.

“You know him?” Treese directed the question at Robert.

“We attend some of the same functions.” Robert ran his fingers along his jawline Balbo beard.