Liam had eventually realized that they were alone in the house, and yeah, maybe he’d even imagined what he’d like to do.
But despite what her parents had assumed, Liam had had a sense of honor. He’d known that Yasmin was only fourteen, and maybe a little naive even for that age. He’d never considered pressuring her, even touching her; that would be like throwing mud onto a beautiful stretch of pure snow.
Not only that, he actually liked Yasmin. She was different from other girls; she had ideas of her own, and plans; she wasn’t petty and mean. She’d seen through his sullen exterior back in fifth grade, and she still knew who he was, saw his good side, despite the posturing he had to do as a bigger-than-average kid from a bad background.
He wouldn’t have done anything to threaten her friendship and trust.
To then be accused of the very thing he’d fought in himself and beaten...it had burned. Especially when he realized that her parents thought of him, had always thought of him, as some kind of charity friendship for Yasmin: a person who would help her to learn compassion and kindness to the poor, to put into perspective all the advantages she had. Someone her family could maybe help, because they were good people, but who wasn’t their social equal.
It had actually been Josiah who’d gotten his father calmed down, coming to Liam’s defense. Liam hadn’t expected help from Josiah, not that the kid was mean-hearted, but he rarely came out from behind his chessboard to get involved in life. Dr. Tanner must have known that, too, because when Josiah had strode into the kitchen and said, “Dad, back off! He wouldn’t do anything,” Dr. Tanner had brought his lecture to a quick end.
The encounter and her parents’ suspicions had changed the dynamics between him and Yasmin, though. He hadn’t asked her for help with schoolwork again, and they’d drifted further apart. She’d gotten superbusy with tennis and the country club crowd, and he’d focused on beating up opposing players on the football field. He’d played offensive guard because he liked protecting people and he didn’t mind getting pounded. Besides, it was a ticket to a good four-year college, something he couldn’t have otherwise afforded.
Now, Liam studied Josiah, hunched at the end of the couch. He looked like he was trying to hold on to something explosive with utmost delicacy, the way he hunched over, all stiff and guarded.
“You guys talk to the officer yet?” he asked.
Josiah didn’t answer, but Rocky shook his head. “Don’t know why he wants to talk to us. I don’t know anything about what happened, and neither does he.” He nodded toward Josiah.
“You didn’t see anything unusual that night you ended up at the center?”
“No,” Rocky said, half-indignant.
Again, Josiah didn’t answer.
But when Mulligan walked into the room, still acting like he owned the place, both Rocky and Josiah started fidgeting, looking anywhere but at him, not making eye contact.
It would take a stupider officer than Mulligan to miss the fact that they were hiding something.
“You ready to chat a little more about what happened?” Mulligan asked, stepping in front of the TV to focus on the two on the couch, ignoring Liam.
In unison, they shook their heads.
“I heard a rumor y’all were out there at the docks,” he probed, taking the remote out of Rocky’s hands and clicking off the television.
How had Mulligan heard that? From the shrimpers that day that Rocky had been found in the shed, maybe. Or maybe Mulligan was just fishing, but neither Josiah nor Rocky was denying it.
In the silence, Liam could hear Yasmin talking to her mother, the tread of the two women up the stairs.
“You sure you didn’t see anything?” Mulligan asked, tilting his head sideways.
Rocky threw up his hands in classic annoyed teenager fashion. “Yes, I’m sure!”
Liam wondered whether Mulligan noticed how hard both men were sweating. Even though Yasmin had the AC turned pretty cool.
“Well, y’all keep thinking about it. We can put off this interview for tonight, but not forever.” He turned to Liam. “Talk to you a minute?”
Liam nodded, and they walked on through the living room and stepped out on the side porch. The jerk knew the way as well as Liam did. Better.
“Hey, listen,” Buck said, his voice fake-kind. “I heard you’re living over Yasmin’s garage and that you’re goin’ through a hard time. You’d do better to focus on getting back on your feet and just leave the murder investigation to me.”
Liam kept his chin up, didn’t show a sign that inside he was right back to his outcast years. He raised his hands, palms out. “I’m on day desk. Not my investigation.” And he wasn’t making any promises, but Mulligan wasn’t observant enough to notice the omission.
Liam was pretty good at nuances, though, and at body language, reading people’s faces. So he noticed the relief on Mulligan’s, and wondered about it.
The guy liked to act like he owned the world, but he was pretty insecure about this particular case. And with good cause. He might have a lot of connections among the upper crust of the town and an in with the city council, he might have a degree in criminal justice from a more expensive college than Liam had attended, but he knew next to nothing about serious crime.
If Liam had been a better person, he’d have felt sorry for the man, but Mulligan was a jerk. If he crashed and burned trying to investigate his first homicide, it would serve him right.
The case still needed to be investigated right, though. And since he was pretty sure Buck wasn’t up to the task, Liam suddenly felt more than justified in working with Yasmin on the side investigation she wanted to do. Both to help Rocky find his mom, and to keep Safe Haven safe.
CHAPTER EIGHT
YASMIN WASN’T GOING to worry about why Josiah wasn’t at the house. She wasn’t.
Even though his absence kicked up her anxiety big-time.
It was late morning on Tuesday, and Yasmin had just gotten back from driving her mother home to Charleston. Mom was happily settled in with a lunch from her favorite takeout and a plan to go shopping with a neighbor later that afternoon. They’d even had a nice talk on the way down, reminding Yasmin of all the things she loved about her mother—she was well-read, and funny, and had sharp insight into political and social issues of the South.
After letting Rio out to run in the yard, Yasmin sank down on the front step, watching him, thinking absently about her responsibilities.
Out of desperation, she’d taken Claire up on her suggestion that Rocky hang out with her nephews, so she’d dropped him off early that morning with Claire’s parents’ blessing. A discreet phone call while she was in Charleston had reassured Yasmin that Rocky was “a lovely boy” and that all three were having fun in the backyard pool.
So Mom and Rocky were both doing fine, and two out of three wasn’t bad, right? Josiah was probably out walking, or maybe he’d taken an extra shift at the library. Maybe he was doing something related to the kids’ chess club Miss Vi had him helping out with.
He was a grown man. She didn’t need to shadow his every move. She’d promised him she wouldn’t.
She went inside and studied the empty refrigerator—having a teenage boy here meant she needed to grocery shop much more often, she was realizing. She wanted to take care of Rocky, and Josiah too, but she also needed to spend the afternoon getting caught up at work. The women’s center depended on her, and she couldn’t let the clients down.
Her friends wished she were more fun, but how could she be? Fun had never been her forte. Or maybe it could have been, but she hadn’t found the time.
“With great gifts come great responsibilities,” her dad had always told her. Yasmin had been labeled gifted pretty young, and she’d helped to take the burden off her mom. She didn’t expect nurturing.
Didn’t expect happiness, really, not since all the news abou
t the family genes had come into the picture. Now, with Rocky and Josiah to look out for, it had become clear that duty, caring for others, was what it was going to be.
There was no point in grieving something you couldn’t change. She’d go to the diner, treat herself to a comfort-food lunch. She’d sit at the counter and have a chat with Rita if the place wasn’t too busy. Maybe even do a little investigating, because she was pretty sure Rita had been working on the night that Josiah and Rocky had shown up at the center. She’d ask Rita if she’d seen anything.
And then she’d feel more fortified to get back to work.
Josiah was probably fine.
Ten minutes later, she slid into a seat at the counter in the Southern Comfort Café. She waved through the pass-through at the tall, thin cook. “Hey, Abel, what’s good today?”
“Now you know every single thing is good,” he said, his wrinkled face breaking into a wide smile. “But if it was me, I’d get the shrimp and cheese grits.”
“Perfect,” she said as Rita approached with the coffeepot. “I’ll have a big plate.”
“You got it, baby.”
Rita poured coffee to the rim without asking. “How you doing? You know what you want?”
“Shrimp and grits, and I already told Abel,” she said.
Rita leaned a hip against the counter. “You’re making my job easy.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice a little. “Heard your mom was in town.”
“How’d you hear that?” Yasmin took a sip of coffee and considered. “Oh. Eldora?”
Rita nodded. “Me and Norma stopped into the Pig just after you left.” She studied Yasmin’s face. “You doing okay? She still here?”
“Took her back to Charleston this morning.” Yasmin wasn’t thrilled that even Rita, who was relatively new in town, had heard about Yasmin’s mom being difficult. But the sympathy on Rita’s face made her let down her guard. “I love her, but...there’s a little stress to it. Especially for my brother.” As she said the words and thought again about the fact that she didn’t know where Josiah was, anxiety tightened her chest.
“Families.” Some emotion crossed Rita’s face, but it was gone before Yasmin could identify it. “Abel made a couple of chocolate pies, if you need a fix.”
“That’d be great.”
Rita got busy with her other customers, and Yasmin leaned back, trying to relax into the comfort of her town where people knew her and supported her.
Moments later the door opened, and there came Liam, devastatingly handsome in his uniform.
And that was the disadvantage of a small town where everyone knew each other: you couldn’t escape your ex.
Their eyes met as he scanned the room, looking for a place to sit. There was an empty stool next to her at the counter.
He walked past it with a nod to her, like she was an acquaintance he didn’t much want to see, and settled into a seat at the far end, next to Pudge LeFrost.
She didn’t know for sure why he was acting cold, but she had a pretty good guess. Running into Buck at her place last night had probably made him mad. Probably not jealous, not anymore, but just plain mad, because he didn’t like the guy.
A vise tightened around her chest, making it hard to breathe. She’d started thinking Liam liked her and wanted to be with her again, and even though it couldn’t happen, she’d begun to enjoy that specialness without even knowing she was.
Now, when he’d walked right past her without a greeting, the absence of his regard almost choked her.
She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to care. But there was a mirror behind the diner counter, right in front of her. Every time she lifted her eyes, they went directly to Liam.
He’d been angry last night, that much was obvious. He’d glared at Buck like the man was poison, and understandably so. It was her own fault she’d made them into rivals.
The two men she’d treated badly, both together in one house...thinking about it had made her toss and turn all night.
She deserved it, though. Going out with Buck had been a dumb move, but it was the only way she could think of to let Liam know she was through with him, to push him away convincingly when her heart was crying out for him.
She couldn’t tell him the truth about her fears. He was a protector to the core, and would have tried to sacrifice his desire for a family if she couldn’t get over her worries about what she might pass on.
And other excuses wouldn’t work. Men like Liam, alpha males, didn’t buy into the whole “I just need some time,” or “I’m not ready for a serious relationship,” or “I need to find myself.” On some primitive level, to an alpha, women were property. The only way to break up with men like that was to go with another man. Which was why she’d dated Buck in the first place.
But while it had worked, it had made Liam hate her, also thanks to his alpha-male personality. The insult of her throwing him over for someone else was deep, primal.
The relationship with Buck had been brief and meaningless. He’d tried to get her into bed, of course, and for all she knew, he’d told people in town that he’d succeeded. But he hadn’t. She hadn’t been able to tolerate his touch because all she could think of was Liam.
And of course, Buck wouldn’t put up with a platonic dating relationship for long. For that matter, neither could she. They had nothing to talk about, no basis for a friendship. Buck was good-looking and more intelligent than he let on, but he wasn’t a deep thinker. Yasmin had learned long ago not to judge people on smarts; still, she found it hard to relate to a person who didn’t want to learn or grow at all, who never picked up a book or read a newspaper. When she’d tried to confide in him about Josiah’s diagnosis and her own fears, he’d just looked at her blankly and waved her concerns aside.
Their so-called relationship had lasted just long enough to convince Liam to leave her alone, and then they’d ended it with mutual relief.
But that was when it had sunk in, all that she’d lost. The dream of a regular life, of a husband and kids. And not just any husband, but her strong, protective, sexy childhood hero: Liam.
She swiveled in her seat to keep from staring at Liam and studied the yellowed newspaper clippings framed on one wall of the diner. A couple of minor movie stars who’d visited, local sports teams victories, and...where was it? Yes, there was the clipping about her family, back when she was nine and Josiah thirteen. Both she and Josiah had won awards in a national science competition, hence the article. Safe Haven being what it was, the paper had done a whole story about her family, her dad the doctor, her mom “active in civic affairs,” which had been a stretch, but kindly meant.
How far they’d fallen. All that supposed potential had faded into nothing.
Worry for Josiah bloomed in her again. She’d called Miss Vi on the way over, and the woman had said she’d check and see if he was anywhere in the library. But she hadn’t called back, so Yasmin had to assume the answer was no.
Rita put a steaming plate of shrimp and grits in front of her. Her appetite was wavering now, but she lifted her fork and took a bite, and sure enough, it tasted good.
Josiah was probably home. She’d stop by after lunch on her way to the center.
The diner door jingled and opened, and she looked over idly, then did a double take.
Josiah was there, shaking his head, one hand braced against the door. Miss Vi had his other hand and was tugging, trying to get him to come in.
The buzz of conversation in the diner died down a little, enough that everyone probably heard Miss Vi’s stern, clear words: “You worried your sister, young man. The least you can do is let her see that you’re all right.”
Yasmin slid off her stool and hurried over, her face heating at the way Miss Vi was embarrassing a grown man. Josiah deserved to be treated with respect. His mental illness didn’t mean he should be spoken to like a child.
&n
bsp; But to her surprise, Josiah gave Miss Vi a sheepish nod and walked into the diner.
“Come on, now,” Miss Vi said, “let’s go sit with your sister and get you something to eat. When was the last time you ate, anyway? You’re nothing but skin and bones. Abel!” she called as she sat down one stool away from Yasmin’s spot. “This young man needs a nourishing meal right away.” She turned to Yasmin. “What did you order?”
“Shrimp and grits,” Yasmin said faintly, and glanced up at Josiah, an apology in her eyes.
To her surprise, his lips were twitching. He sat down on the empty stool between them and folded his hands.
Something in his posture and his smile made her think of their childhood. Josiah had always been Mensa-level smart, but maybe because his mind was on bigger things, he’d disliked the mundane details of selecting clothes and washing dishes and shaving.
Having Miss Vi tell him where to go and what to eat might actually be okay with him, not because he was sick, but because he was Josiah.
Rita clipped an order on the round metal spinner and came over to them. She was smiling, too. “Coffee for you two?”
Miss Vi frowned. “I’ll have coffee with some creamer, but he—” she nodded sideways at Josiah “—he should have some milk.”
“Coffee,” Josiah corrected.
“Two coffees it is, then,” Rita said, and turned toward the coffeepot.
Once they had their coffee in front of them and Miss Vi had ordered eggs and toast, Yasmin propped her cheek on her elbow and looked at Josiah and Miss Vi. “What’s going on, anyway?”
“Do you want to tell her, or shall I?”
Josiah inclined his head slightly toward Miss Vi.
She frowned at him. “Fine, then. He’d worked himself back into one of those old window seats, the ones that are shut off? With a pile of books. Today is early closing day, and we came close to locking him up in the library until tomorrow morning!”
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