Page 12 of Deadly Sins: Lust
She shook her head. “No. I mean, I guess not.”
“I’m a detective. Before that I was a cop, and before that I was a misfit, a kid no one wanted or expected to amount to anything in life. Being surrounded by people who had no expectations of me taught me a hell of a lot about what people are really like. And let me tell you a little something about jealousy. It pokes at the flesh at first, and then it sits, festering there, twisting and turning until it strips away just enough skin to create a hole. It doesn’t have to be a big hole—just big enough to pierce a person’s skin and worm its way inside. Once that happens, it shifts the mind. Sometimes makes a person crazy enough to do things they themselves never thought they were capable of. I’ll know it when I see it. And, darlin’, Shawn is a repeat offender.”
Val crossed her arms, blinking at Nick like she didn’t know what to do with his analogy. None of us did.
“You go back inside and give Layla a message for me,” Nick added through gritted teeth. “If I even get the slightest suspicion he had anything to do with Marissa’s death, he’ll wish he would have stayed off the grid when I gave him the chance.”
CHAPTER 10
“I know how you feel about Shawn,” I said. “And right now, you’re desperate to take someone’s head off over Marissa’s death, but until you know one way or the other, maybe you should let me do the—”
“I don’t need your advice, Sloane,” Nick said. “She was my wife, and I’ll do this my way.”
“I flew here to help you. You don’t have to be so harsh.”
He sighed, tapped his thumb on the steering wheel. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But when you meet this guy, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Everything about him is just ... off. I know he’s to blame for what happened to her.”
He was wrong. He didn’tknowShawn was to blame, but it was clear he hated the guy. So why not blame him? “Who is he?”
He explained that Shawn was Marissa’s ex—boyfriend. They had dated up to the time she met Nick. He hadn’t taken the breakup well. Soon after she ended things, Marissa became Shawn’s obsession. He went to great lengths to get her back. After leaving notes on her car, Nick paid him a visit. He omitted the details, but it was clear whatever Nick had said, or done, worked. All correspondence stopped. Based on Layla’s behavior, she seemed well aware of Marissa and Shawn’s past and had decided to invite him to the wedding anyway. I should have been surprised, but I wasn’t. Selfish people like Layla only cared about one thing in life—themselves.
We pulled in front of The Devonshire, and Nick parked the car.
“What do you want us to do?” Maddie asked.
“Wait here,” he said. “If I need you two, I’ll let you know.”
She looked at me, and I looked at him. “Okay.”
He walked toward the stairwell, and Maddie smacked me on the shoulder. “Really? We’re going to sit here while he unleashes on the guy?”
I glanced back at her. “Of course not. I’m just giving him a head start.”
“How much of a head start?”
“A minute or two. I know he can’t stand the guy. But Nick’s a detective. I want to give him the chance to use his best judgment.”
“What you want is for him to think you trust him, despite how messed up he is right now. Why?”
“Because he did the same for me when I was tracking Shelby’s killer. He gave me liberties he shouldn’t have. I feel like I owe him.”
“Normally I’d agree with you. Most of the time, Nick is levelheaded. This isn’t one of those times though, Sloane. His wife is dead. This is different.”
She was right. My guilt over his leniency in the past was affecting my better judgment in the present. I wanted to believe he wasn’t capable of inflicting the kind of harm he’d later regret, but I was a fool to assume so. His eyes looked different now—distant and hollow—like an empty beer can shot full of holes. And if I were honest with myself, part of the reason I was there was to protect him from himself.
And so far, I’d failed.
“Let’s go,” I said.
Maddie was out of the car before I could get my door open, speedwalking toward the stairwell.
“Maddie, hang on,” I said.
But I was too late. She’d scaled the first flight of stairs, disappearing around the corner. My phone buzzed. It was Cade, asking how I was doing. I sent him a quick text message, locked the car, and turned, spotting a man in a blue tank top and tropical board shorts sprinting in my direction. He was so busy looking behind him that he smacked into my shoulder, and we both went down.
“Watch where you’re going!” I said.
He jumped up and held his hand out, pulling me back to a standing position before taking off again and shouting, “Sorry! Didn’t mean it!”