I had no doubt that Bria wanted to help Roslyn. Given what I'd seen so far, she would have done the same for any woman that she thought had been stalked and victimized the way Roslyn had. I admired her for that.
But the cold, cynical part of me wondered how much of Bria's determination to help was personal. Because Bria didn't have any witnesses to the fact that Slater had tried to kill her, and Sophia had made sure that no evidence of any kind had been left behind at the scene. If Bria wanted to lock up Slater-and she surely had to, given the fact that the giant had tried to kill her-then Roslyn was her best shot at making that happen. And somehow, I didn't think she was going to give up on the vamp without a fight.
"What about Roslyn?" I asked.
"Have you seen or talked to her today?" Bria asked.
"No."
An easy lie. And I didn't volunteer any more information or even ask why Bria was so interested in finding Roslyn in the first place. When dealing with the po-po, it was best to follow the example of Sophia Deveraux and speak only in short bursts-if at all.
Bria studied me, her blue eyes cold and icy. "I think you're lying. You and Roslyn looked particularly friendly when she was in here yesterday."
"That was yesterday," I replied. "Roslyn was here for the food. Nothing more, detective."
"That's funny because no one seems to know where Ms. Phillips is," Bria replied. "She's not at home, and no one's seen her at that nightclub she owns, Northern Aggression."
"Perhaps you should ask your partner if he's seen her," I said in a snippy tone. "Since Xavier actually works for Roslyn."
Normally, I wouldn't have sicced Bria on Xavier. But better for her to be at the nightclub questioning him than standing here accusing me. I had work to do tonight. And the sooner I killed Elliot Slater, the sooner Roslyn could sleep easier and return to her regularly scheduled life, instead of being holed up in Jo-Jo Deveraux's house.
"I've already been to the club," Bria replied. "And Xavier claims he hasn't seen her either."
I cocked my head to one side. "You sound like you don't believe him."
Her face hardened. "What I do or don't believe is none of your business. Now, why don't you tell me where you were last night?"
"You think I did something to Roslyn Phillips?" I laughed. "Oh, please."
Bria's eyes iced over, even more. "You know, we could have this conversation down at the police station."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Really? On what grounds? That I was at the same party as Roslyn last night? That she came into my restaurant and had a meal? I see you've already taken up the bad habits of the rest of the Ashland Police Department, detective."
"And what would those be?"
I stared at her. "Interrogating people for no reason."
Bria had the good grace to flinch at my insult.
As much as I would have loved to continue this verbal smackdown with my long-lost sister, I needed to get on with things. Finn was due to pick me up at seven so we could start tailing Elliot Slater and look for a place to kill the giant. Which meant that I needed to get rid of Bria. So I decided to give her what she wanted-some answers.
"Yes, Roslyn came in here yesterday, but only to get some food. Yes, I saw her last night on the riverboat, including that awful scene with Elliot Slater. No, I haven't seen the vamp since then, and I don't expect to," I said. "Whatever you think you saw here yesterday, Roslyn and I are not best friends, merely casual acquaintances. I go to her club on occasion, she gets barbecue here sometimes. That's the extent of our relationship, detective. As for where I was last night, I went home with Owen Grayson. We had a very stimulating evening in his office, if you absolutely have to know."
Bria studied me for several seconds. "You don't like me much, do you, Ms. Blanco?"
It wasn't that. It wasn't that at all. If anything, I was proud of how well Bria seemed to have turned out, despite everything that had happened to her. She just didn't realize that I had to keep her at arm's length. That my jumbled feelings for her were still too fresh and raw for me to do anything but antagonize her. That sarcasm was the gentlest and least deadly of my many defense mechanisms. That I had a cold, hard, bloody job to do tonight, something that she could never know about or be a part of.
I shrugged. "I don't know enough about you to like or dislike you, detective. What I hate is when someone comes into my gin joint and starts threatening me. I don't respond well to threats, from the police or anyone else."
She sighed. "I'm not threatening you. All I'm trying to do is help Ms. Phillips. You heard what she said about Elliot Slater, what she accused him of. I've spent the whole day trying to track her down. Surely you know about Slater's reputation, who he works for. I want to find Ms. Phillips before he does. That's all I want to do."
Bria had that same tired note in her voice that I'd always heard in Donovan Caine's. That same tone that told me how many brick walls and dead ends she'd run up against today-many of them in her own police department. Like she said, she was just trying to do the right thing, just trying to help a woman who so obviously needed it. Bria was trying to do things the legal way. In Ashland, all it would get her was dead. And I just couldn't allow that to happen. Not to my baby sister. Better I deal with Slater than Bria. Better for Roslyn, and better for Bria, whether she knew it or not.
"That's very noble of you," I said in a kinder voice. "It really is. But I can't help you. I don't know where Roslyn is, and I didn't know anything about her problems with Slater until I heard about them last night on the riverboat, like everyone else. Even if I had known before, there's nothing I could do to help her. Not against someone like Slater. You said it yourself. You know who he works for. But I truly am sorry for Roslyn, detective. I truly am. More than you will ever know."
Bria opened her mouth to say something, when a sharp ring cut her off. But it wasn't the telephone next to the register that had sounded. It was my disposable cell phone. Which could mean only one thing-trouble.
"Excuse me." I dug my cell phone out of my jeans pocket and answered it. "What?"
"Gin?" Jo-Jo's voice flooded the line. "We've got a problem."
The tight, worried note in the dwarf's tone told me exactly what she was going to say.
"Roslyn's gone," Jo-Jo said.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Roslyn Phillips gone? Fuck.
Bria saw my face tighten. Her blue eyes sharpened with interest.
"Gin?" Jo-Jo asked. "Are you still there?"