Page 5 of Defending Love
Two weeks and the case was going cold.
Retired CEO of Sinclair Pharmaceuticals shot dead in broad daylight.
The best the police could tell us was that they didn’t believe it was a random act of violence. Dad was targeted.
We didn’t know by whom or why.
Our only clue was that the assailant confirmed Dad’s identity and his association with Sinclair Pharmaceuticals seconds before firing his gun.
Our mother would recover. Currently, she was still in a Florida hospital, soon being moved to rehab. The damage to her spinal cord resulted in the need for physical therapy. Damien, his wife, Ella, Dad’s friend and attorney, Stephen Elliott, and I flew down immediately. The doctors said it was too early to send her from Florida back to Indiana for Dad’s funeral.
Ella, my sister-in-law, sat on Damien’s other side, holding their two-month-old son, Dylan Sinclair, whose cries reflected my mood. As the minister stepped up to the coffin, Ella’s mother came forward, taking Dylan from Ella’s arms and shushing his whimpers.
Mom asked us to keep Dad’s ceremony small. Minus the bodyguards, only a few close friends, and members of the Sinclair executive board who had known Dad for years were in attendance; we kept our promise.
As the minister was about to speak, Darius, our father’s son from his first marriage, made his way to our mother’s empty chair.
“Get the fuck away from here,” Damien growled.
Damien and Darius’s feud had intensified since our father’s murder. Meaning it went from one hundred to two hundred and ten in the course of a conversation. Damien suspected Darius’s involvement in our father’s death.
“He was my father too,” Darius quipped.
I lifted both of my hands, trying to momentarily deflect the ensuing daggers. “I’m not sitting in the middle of this.” I met Damien’s dangerously dark gaze. “Not now.”
The muscles in the side of Damien’s face pulled taut. I peered around him, silently pleading to Ella. She reached for my brother’s arm and laced hers through his bent elbow. It wasn’t an end to the feud between the two men on either side of me, but by the way Damien exhaled, it seemed a small reprieve.
A gentleman in a dark suit appeared. “Mr. Sinclair.” He spoke to Darius. “As we told you at the funeral home, your presence is a violation of Mr. Sinclair’s restraining order.”
I turned to Damien, my lips pressed together.
A restraining order?
My brother’s words didn’t match the guttural growl to his voice. “He can stay until the ceremony is complete.”
The bodyguard nodded. “I’ll be happy to escort you once the ceremony is done.” He then stepped to Darius’s side.
“Very generous of you, brother,” Darius mumbled. He leaned closer to me. “Dani, you know I’m heartbroken too.”
Shaking my head, I looked down at my hands folded in my lap. While their trembling had ceased, the bone-chilling cold remained.
“Family and friends,” the minister began. “As we remember Derek…”
If I were quizzed on what was said earlier during the funeral or currently at the gravesite, I would fail miserably. My thoughts were filled with memories of the man who was a husband and a dad. Despite running a successful pharmaceutical company, he never shied away from fatherly duties. I couldn’t recall a time he or Mom missed one of my swimming meets or one of Damien’s basketball games.
He encouraged my love of science. That passion led me to study chemistry and biology. The double major, master’s degree, and ensuing PhD secured my role in our family company. Vice president in charge of research and development was my current title.
My thoughts had gone to happier times—years of vacationing on Florida’s west coast, probably the reason our parents later chose to move to the Sunshine State—when the minister handed me a long-stemmed rose. It took me a moment to rationalize where I was and why he handed it to me. Peering around, I saw that Ella was also holding one as she stood. I rose to meet her next to the coffin. A lump formed in my throat as we both laid the flowers on top of the shiny, smooth wood.
I blinked away the tears.
It was as I turned back toward my seat that my breath caught. Standing with the other guards was a man who hadn’t been there earlier, not once during the last two horrible weeks.
Eli Rhodes stood inches above the other guards, his shoulders wide. The cut of his expensive dark suit accentuated his toned chest and V-shaped torso. Emotions cycloned within me as my mouth went suddenly dry.
With his hands clasped before him and working to maintain his elusive stare, Eli’s veneer cracked just a little as his green gaze met mine.
Memories of our short time together cascaded through my mind as I unsuccessfully fought off the tears. Fresh, salty streams sizzled on my cold cheeks as I gasped for breath.
