nothing to say. He had killed Moriah. It had come down to killing her or allowing her to murder Cameron as he watched.
"Carl will deal with it," he finally said. "The detective has filed his official report, as has the coroner. The detective's bullet was ruled the cause of death."
"Annalee and Richard Roberts have attempted to smooth it over as well." Cameron nodded. "But Margaret Brockheim, it seems, has disowned her stepsister, Annalee. The notices were in the papers the other night."
Chase's jaw tensed. For all the trouble Richard and Annalee had caused them personally, he still felt sorry as hell for the woman. She had loved her niece Moriah.
Chase glanced back at Jaci. She was quiet, her head bent to the preparation of the pancakes, her expression somber. Chase's lips thinned at the look on her face. She hadn't deserved the working over Moriah had given her over the years or the deceptions used in the attempt to destroy her.
He stared back at his brother, his expression hard. He would talk to a few members of the club when he went to the mansion this weekend. He needed to speak to them about Kia anyway. Protecting Jaci and Kia was paramount.
"I also had a call last night after the party." Cameron suddenly grinned.
Chase's brow lifted.
"You were seen leaving that little corner bar. Someone says you carried Ms. Kia Rutherford right into Khalid's limo. I thought you had better sense than that, Chase. She nearly brought the club down single-handedly when she threw Drew out."
Chase finished his coffee before leveling a silencing look at his brother.
"Someone was misinformed, I'm sure," he finally growled.
Cameron grinned as Chase rose and moved back to the coffeepot.
"I'm going to kick your boyfriend's ass again," he warned Jaci.
She gave her boyfriend a hooded, sexy look. "Don't hurt him too bad, huh? I'm still enjoying that tough body of his."
He grunted at that, took his coffee, and moved to the sliding doors that opened onto the deck. It was still snowing. The white fluff had piled on the ground, snowplows were reported to be already working overtime, and still it fell.
It had been six months since Chase had learned how easily a woman could fool him, and still he wondered if he had learned that lesson clear to his soul. Because the more he stood there, staring into the cold, the more he wished he had stayed with Kia and kept them both warm.
He turned and stared at the brightly lit, decorated tree, sipped his coffee and called himself a thousand kinds of fool. He should have stayed. He should have wrapped himself around her, and maybe then he wouldn't be staring into the swirling snow this morning and wondering if she was warm. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have been cold himself.
Could the girl, Kia Rutherford, be the tool?
He watched through the binoculars from the window of a nearby apartment with a view at Chase Falladay's living room. There Chase stood, staring pensively at the snow that fell outside, snow that thickened and had once filled his own world with magic.
There was no magic left in his world, though. All the pleasure had slowly been sucked out of it, and Chase was to blame.
His gaze narrowed as he watched Chase and he knew it was Chase. Cameron was slightly broader, his walk slightly different. He could understand why the Rutherford girl was so fascinated with him. Or was it him? He would have to watch, wait, just a little longer. He had to be certain before he made his move. As much as he hated Khalid, still Khalid had done nothing to invoke his wrath. He was a despicable creature, but still, beneath notice. If the woman belonged to Khalid, then she wasn't a tool.
But it had been Chase who had carried her to the limo. Chase had walked up to her apartment with her. It was Chase now staring into the snow as though some problem weighed on his shoulders. A man only had such a look when a woman was involved.
No, the Rutherford bitch had to belong to Chase.
Watch. Wait. He cautioned
"Carl will deal with it," he finally said. "The detective has filed his official report, as has the coroner. The detective's bullet was ruled the cause of death."
"Annalee and Richard Roberts have attempted to smooth it over as well." Cameron nodded. "But Margaret Brockheim, it seems, has disowned her stepsister, Annalee. The notices were in the papers the other night."
Chase's jaw tensed. For all the trouble Richard and Annalee had caused them personally, he still felt sorry as hell for the woman. She had loved her niece Moriah.
Chase glanced back at Jaci. She was quiet, her head bent to the preparation of the pancakes, her expression somber. Chase's lips thinned at the look on her face. She hadn't deserved the working over Moriah had given her over the years or the deceptions used in the attempt to destroy her.
He stared back at his brother, his expression hard. He would talk to a few members of the club when he went to the mansion this weekend. He needed to speak to them about Kia anyway. Protecting Jaci and Kia was paramount.
"I also had a call last night after the party." Cameron suddenly grinned.
Chase's brow lifted.
"You were seen leaving that little corner bar. Someone says you carried Ms. Kia Rutherford right into Khalid's limo. I thought you had better sense than that, Chase. She nearly brought the club down single-handedly when she threw Drew out."
Chase finished his coffee before leveling a silencing look at his brother.
"Someone was misinformed, I'm sure," he finally growled.
Cameron grinned as Chase rose and moved back to the coffeepot.
"I'm going to kick your boyfriend's ass again," he warned Jaci.
She gave her boyfriend a hooded, sexy look. "Don't hurt him too bad, huh? I'm still enjoying that tough body of his."
He grunted at that, took his coffee, and moved to the sliding doors that opened onto the deck. It was still snowing. The white fluff had piled on the ground, snowplows were reported to be already working overtime, and still it fell.
It had been six months since Chase had learned how easily a woman could fool him, and still he wondered if he had learned that lesson clear to his soul. Because the more he stood there, staring into the cold, the more he wished he had stayed with Kia and kept them both warm.
He turned and stared at the brightly lit, decorated tree, sipped his coffee and called himself a thousand kinds of fool. He should have stayed. He should have wrapped himself around her, and maybe then he wouldn't be staring into the swirling snow this morning and wondering if she was warm. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have been cold himself.
Could the girl, Kia Rutherford, be the tool?
He watched through the binoculars from the window of a nearby apartment with a view at Chase Falladay's living room. There Chase stood, staring pensively at the snow that fell outside, snow that thickened and had once filled his own world with magic.
There was no magic left in his world, though. All the pleasure had slowly been sucked out of it, and Chase was to blame.
His gaze narrowed as he watched Chase and he knew it was Chase. Cameron was slightly broader, his walk slightly different. He could understand why the Rutherford girl was so fascinated with him. Or was it him? He would have to watch, wait, just a little longer. He had to be certain before he made his move. As much as he hated Khalid, still Khalid had done nothing to invoke his wrath. He was a despicable creature, but still, beneath notice. If the woman belonged to Khalid, then she wasn't a tool.
But it had been Chase who had carried her to the limo. Chase had walked up to her apartment with her. It was Chase now staring into the snow as though some problem weighed on his shoulders. A man only had such a look when a woman was involved.
No, the Rutherford bitch had to belong to Chase.
Watch. Wait. He cautioned
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