Alice nodded. He was averting his gaze from her, which bothered her deeply. She opened her mouth to question his preoccupation, but he halted her with a soft, firm kiss on her lips. Her heart sunk a little when he turned and left the room.
Deep down, was he worried that she wasn’t really Alan Durand’s daughter? Vague former worries returned to haunt her, now clarified and flashing like neon signs in her brain. Dylan wanted to believe she wasn’t Kehoe’s child, perhaps as much as Alice wished it. The idea of being that monster’s progeny turned her insides to ice. But because it made Dylan and her uncomfortable, th
ey couldn’t just assume that it wasn’t still a possibility. Even if she wasn’t Kehoe’s child, wasn’t it possible Lynn had slept with someone else? Wouldn’t that be a more likely scenario, than that Addie Durand was a miracle baby?
What would happen if the results of the genetic testing came back, and she learned she wasn’t Alan’s daughter? She’d be so disappointed, after hearing Alan’s voice in that dream, after feeling so much emotion associated with him. Daddy.
But Dylan would probably be devastated, too.
He’d been focused to the point of obsession for most of his life with the idea of finding her. Now that he knew the truth, would it change the way he felt about her?
ALICE gave her statement to the police and FBI that night after her early supper. When the agents first entered her room, carrying cases of what looked like electronic equipment, Dylan came with them.
“What’s all that stuff?” Alice asked uneasily after she’d been introduced to Special Agent Clayton and Agent Rogers. The older agent, Clayton, gave Dylan a pointed glance. Dylan stepped closer to her bed, and Alice had the uncomfortable feeling the agents had asked him to break some news to her.
“What is it?” she whispered, studying his lips closely for their hushed exchange.
“Alice, the agents need to photograph you.”
Alice blanched. “I look like hell,” she whispered. The last thing she wanted was to have strangers take her picture.
He grimaced. “Your injuries are evidence. If Kehoe pleads not guilty to your attack—”
“He’s going to plead not guilty?” she asked in a high-pitched voice.
“We don’t know yet. He’s still in the hospital, and he’s been out of it a lot. When he is awake, he’s not saying much. The point is, if this does go to trial,” Dylan continued quietly. “Your condition is important evidence. Even if it doesn’t go to trial, it’s valuable information for Kehoe’s sentencing. I’m sorry, honey. I can’t see any way around it.”
“No, it’s okay,” she said after a pause. “If all these bruises and bandages make it more likely for Kehoe to get the most severe sentence possible, then it’ll be worth it.”
“I was hoping you’d see it that way.” Alice glanced up at him when he didn’t move away. “There’s something else. They want to videotape the interview.”
Alice’s mouth fell open. She wanted to do whatever she should to nail Kehoe for what he’d done to her . . . for what he’d done to Lynn and Alan. But she’d never felt more vulnerable.
Dylan’s mouth curled into a small snarl when he saw her reaction. “I’ll tell them if they want to tape the interview, they’ll have to do it another time.”
“No, it’s okay,” Alice said softly.
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “Because I can’t stay in here with you during it. I guess they don’t want to take the chance of me influencing your story.”
Alice strained to hide her disappointment at that.
“Of course. I’ll be fine,” she assured. She saw his hesitation. “Besides, you need to go home and shower and get some rest anyway,” she told him. Her gaze lowered significantly. “My blood isn’t the ideal accessory on you, you know.” He hadn’t left the hospital, even when she was being tested, so he still wore the bloodstained shirt.
“An accessory I’ll gladly never wear again.” Alice strained to hear his quieted voice. He straightened, glancing at the agents darkly. “She tires very easily,” he told Clayton. “Don’t push her.”
Clayton nodded. “Just tell us if you grow tired, Alice, and we can finish up in the morning.”
Dylan seemed partially mollified. He surprised her a little by turning back and kissing her mouth, ignoring the agents. Her heart jumped at the sensation of his warm, firm lips against her own. She joined his slow, delicious rhythm, kissing him back for a fleeting moment.
“Are you sure you’re okay to do this now?” he asked, his mouth brushing against hers.
She nodded. “I want to get it over with.”
“I’ll be back later tonight, then,” he assured her gruffly.
“Don’t you think you should get some rest at the castle and come back tomorrow?” she whispered.
“I’ll be back later tonight,” he repeated.