Eyes Like a Wolf Read online

  Chapter Three

  “You haven't got much of anything,” I said to Genevieve reasonably. I counted it off on my fingers. “Two witnesses, one of whom is a junkie, saw him leaving the alley where he was relieving himself. They saw some salsa on his chin, found Chulo's body, and assumed the worst. But they didn't actually see anything. Did they?”

  She shrugged uneasily. “Well…”

  “Did they?” I persisted.

  “Okay, you got me.” She sighed. “You know, this isn't our usual conversation, Kemet. Usually we're working together to try and put the bad guys away.”

  “Only this time the bad guy isn't a bad guy,” I pointed out.

  “You sure you're not just saying that because he's your long-lost brother?”

  I stared at her sharply, and she shrugged again.

  “Hey, I got eyes. I saw the way you were hugging all over him.” She lowered her voice. “Charlie-boy did, too, and from the look of him, I'd say he wasn't too pleased about it.” She jerked her head at my fuming fiancé, a small grin on her face. Then she looked at me seriously. “Look, Kemet, I've never known your instincts to be wrong—I always say you would've made a damn fine cop.”

  “Thanks,” I said dryly.

  “So if you say he's on the up and up, I'll believe you,” she continued. “But this is an ongoing homicide investigation. Not that anybody's shedding a tear that Chulo bit the dust, but still.”

  “I understand,” I said, nodding. “You don't have enough to hold Richard, but you don't want him getting too far away either.”

  “Exactly.” She nodded.

  “Not a problem,” I told her. “He's going to be in town for a while—we have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “What hotel?” she asked, whipping out a notebook of her own.

  “My place,” I said immediately, surprising myself with the instant answer. After all, where was I going to put him? His lanky form was much too long for my dumpy secondhand loveseat, and I only had one bedroom. I pushed the speculation away—it felt right to have Richard with me, and somehow I didn't think I'd have to work too hard to persuade him.

  “Wow.” Genevieve was looking at me sharply again. “You sure you know him well enough to bring him into your house, Kemet?”

  “Of course I do—he's my brother.”

  “Your brother that you haven't seen in seventeen years,” she reminded me. “People can change in seventeen years. Change a lot.”

  “Not Richard,” I said stubbornly. I thought about going into the whole spiel about how Richard wasn't actually related to me by blood and decided that would just make her even more nervous. Let her think of him as my brother. After all, I did.

  She looked through the one-way glass again. His pale green eyes, so much like my own, were fixed on us. “He's a big guy,” she remarked in a low voice. “Tall and built, too. Nobody you want to mess with or find yourself on the wrong side of.”

  “Genevieve, will you stop worrying about me?” I said, exasperated. “I'm perfectly safe with Richard, I can promise you that. Besides, I'm doing you a favor. Do you want him where you can find him or not?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She nodded reluctantly. “You know I do, but I want you to be safe, too.”

  “Well, I'm touched by your concern.” I put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. “But honestly, I'll be fine. Okay?”

  She sighed unhappily. “You say so.”

  “I do,” I said firmly. “Now just give me a minute to tell Charles, and then I'll take Richard home.”

  She glanced over my shoulder at my fiancé. “Huh. Good luck.”

  “Thanks,” I said with feeling. “I think I'm going to need it.”

  * * *

  “I still don't see why he has to stay with you,” Charles said for the fourth time as we faced off in the hallway.

  “I told you, Charles, it was the only way I could get Detective Marks to release him.”

  He looked at me coldly. “I'm not an idiot, Rachel—she couldn't make that sort of demand. She simply didn't have enough evidence to hold him. You're making an excuse because you want him with you.”

  My patience with my overly-possessive fiancé suddenly evaporated. “What if I do?” I said, my voice low and furious. “He's my brother, and I haven't seen him for seventeen years. We have a tiny bit of catching up to do, don't you think?”

  “All right, fine.” He threw up his hands. “But try to see my side of it, Rachel. I've known you for two years and tonight was the first time you even mentioned that you had a brother. Then, poof!—like magic he suddenly appears, needing your help and a place to stay.”

  “Charles,” I said, “he's family. Of course I'll help him. Of course I'll give him a place to stay.”

  “Fine, give him a place to stay. Let him stay at your house, and you can come stay with me.”

  “No,” I said at once. “No, I'm staying at my own place, and Richard is staying with me.” I looked at him closely. “What's your problem, anyway? Why are you so threatened by him?”

  “I'm not threatened,” he blustered. “That is to say…”

  “Spit it out, Charles,” I said flatly.

  “Well, it's just that…I have sisters, you know. Quite attractive, the both of them. But still, I don't…don't…”

  “Don't what?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.

  Charles had gotten so red in the face he was practically puce. “The way you were hanging all over him,” he burst out at last. “And I saw the way he kissed you—don't think I didn't see that.”

  “He's my brother, Charles, for God's sake,” I said, barely keeping my temper under control. “And I know you saw the way he kissed me—I wasn't exactly trying to hide it, was I? You really can't hide anything in those one-way mirrored interrogation rooms.”

  Charles narrowed his puppy-dog brown eyes. “I thought you said he was only an adopted brother—that there was no actual blood relation between you.”

  I blew out a breath in exasperation. “My parents adopted Richard when he was three after his parents were killed in a car wreck, thinking they couldn't have any children of their own. He was five by the time I was born and a complete member of our family. He even took my father's last name—Kemet. He's always just been my big brother. That's all.”

  Charles sneered, an ugly look on his conventionally handsome face. “I think you're protesting a little too much, dearest. Who are you trying to convince—me or yourself?”

  “That's it. I am not having this conversation with you.” I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me around to face him again.

  “Charles,” I said, in a low, measured tone. “Take your hands off of me right now.”

  “Fine.” He dropped my arm, and I rubbed it angrily, thinking I might have a bruise there the next day. It was the closest he had ever come to using any kind of physical force on me in our entire two-year relationship, and I was both hurt and enraged.

  “I knew you were jealous, Charles,” I said, still rubbing my arm. “But I didn't know you were this insanely possessive.”

  “Oh, so now it's insanely possessive to be concerned when my fiancée decides to take some strange man—a man, might I add, who's wanted for homicide—into her home? Rachel, dearest…” He took a deep breath. “Only think how it will look. I mean, we're going to be married in a month, and now you're inviting a strange man into your home. What will our friends say?”

  “I find my brother after seventeen years, and all you care about is how it will look if he stays with me for a while?” I couldn't believe him. “I don't care how it looks, Charles, I just feel lucky to have the chance to re-connect with Richard again after all these years.”

  He scowled. “Oh, yes, by all means re-connect. That's exactly what everyone who hears you have him in your home is going to assume you're doing.”

  I turned to go again, and this time he didn't try to stop me. “He's my brother,” I threw over my shoulder. “And until you can get over that, Char