Free The Givenchy Code by Julie Kenner

pressed.
    “It’s gone. I had buddies who died in combat. They left widows. Kids.” The look he shot me was filled with remorse. “I figured they could use the money more than I could. And maybe I figured it was a tiny bit of retribution.”
    I drew in a breath and nodded. His pain was palpable, and my interrogation came to a halt. I had nothing left to say.
    “You asked me why I raced over here to help you, and that’s why. I didn’t race to help Jamie. I didn’t know. I was too late.” He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his entire expression seemed steely calm. Oh yeah, I trusted this guy. More than that, I was glad he was on my side.
    I reached out and took his hand, finding comfort in the fact that I’d been right. His skin was calloused and rough, his large hands strong and sure. A fighter’s hands, and I needed a fighter right then. “Thank you,” I whispered. And then—damn it all—I started to cry.
    He knelt in front of me, pulling me over so that I was leaning against his shoulder. I slumped off the chair and let him cradle me as I cried. I cried out of fear and frustration and grief. I cried for Todd and everything he’d lost. I cried for myself and for everything I might lose. And I cried for this man, who, for whatever reason, had shown up to help me.
    I’m not sure how long I cried, long enough to reach that point where it’s not easy to stop, and where your gasps for air turn into loud, painful hiccups. When I hit that point, he backed away, then returned momentarily with a glass of water. It was a nothing gesture, but to me it seemed incredibly sweet, and the damn tears almost started up all over again.
    I sipped, trying to slow my breathing and get my body back under control, feeling both grateful for his comfort and mortified that I was falling apart in front of him.
    “Did Jamie play PSW?” I asked, once I was pretty sure my voice would cooperate.
    “Yeah. She did.”
    “Why was she killed?”
    “I don’t know, but I can guess.”
    “Guess,” I said.
    “She wouldn’t play the game. This game.”
    I thought of the message Todd had thrown into the trash. “What exactly do you mean?” I asked the question slowly, carefully. I was pretty sure I knew the answer. But until I heard it out loud, I could pretend it wasn’t true.
    “Someone’s taking the game to the streets. I don’t know how. I don’t know why. And I damn sure don’t know who. He killed her.” He half shrugged. “Or, rather, the assassin did.”
    “How do you know she wouldn’t play?”
    “The police found a message balled up in her trash. It was in code. They showed it to me—probably wanted to gauge my reaction in case I’d written it.”
    “What did it say?”
    “I didn’t know at the time. I found out later. The police investigated for a while, but the case went nowhere. And budgets being what they are, the detectives eventually turned to cases with hot leads. Since the police investigation was going nowhere, I decided to do some poking around on my own. One of the detectives in the precinct nosed around and got me a photocopy along with the interpretation.”
    Once again, he held me rapt. “Exactly what do you do that you have detectives running around doing your bidding? Or is that a perk enjoyed by all ex-Marines?”
    A muscle in his jaw twitched, and I really didn’t think he was going to answer me.
    “Does it really matter what I do?”
    Okay. That pissed me off even more than if he’d just stayed quiet. “Hell yes,” I said. “You show up in my apartment and announce that you’re there to protect me, and then you tell me that some other woman’s dead because of you—”
    He winced, but I was on a roll. And, no, I didn’t feel guilty. This was my life I was dealing with.
    “So yeah,” I went on. “I think I have a right to know why you think I should listen to you. I mean, other than that you served your time for God and country. Or are you still one of the few and