“What now?” Hannah blinked. The morning sun poured through the windows, nuclear-bright. “A squirrel on the porch?”
The ringing of the doorbell was punctuated by the dog going bonkers again.
This was domestic bliss? But even with the craziness, the thought of an impersonal room in a five-star London hotel, complete with a feather bed, blackout shades, and room service, held no appeal.
Hannah stood and stretched, her back aching. She must have dozed off after the deer incident. She went to the door and peered through the peephole. Brody stood on the porch. As if he knew she was looking, he raised a white box in his hands. Hannah’s gaze darted from the pink-and-orange logo to his face. Lean and weathered, he wasn’t classically handsome or polished like Royce, but if she was keeping score, Brody took all of the points for masculinity. Royce used far too many personal grooming products to be a manly man. But then, she’d been raised with military men. Bug-out packs had room for spare ammunition and MREs, not wrinkle cream or hair gel.
Brody grinned, and the tanned skin around his eyes crinkled. Her heart did a quick shimmy. She ran her tongue over her teeth. No time to run upstairs to freshen up. Wait. She did not preen for men. But she wanted to. She pressed a palm to her forehead.
Not feverish.
Scarlet Falls was a whirlpool, and Hannah was circling the drain. She needed to get the hell out of town before she was sucked under. Every moment she spent here, her job held less and less attraction. Maybe she was caught in a Doctor Who episode about parallel dimensions.
Resigned, she retreated to the kitchen to turn off the alarm, then opened the door. “Dunkin’ Donuts? That’s cheating.”
“Boston Kreme.” His smile faded as he scanned her face. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks.”
His gaze raked her from her slept-in jeans and sweater to her likely bed head. “Did I wake you?”
“No. Yes. It doesn’t matter.” Hannah pressed her fingertips to one closed eye. “What brings you here, Brody?”
His eyes flickered to his brown loafers. “I was passing by.”
Hannah snorted. “This house isn’t on the way to anywhere.”
Brody lifted a palm, feigning innocence. The sincerity in his warm brown eyes could almost convince her.
“I’m sorry. I’m a bitch before I’ve had my coffee. You’re welcome to come in if you like.”
“Thanks, I’d love to come in for a cup of coffee and a donut.” He stepped over the threshold, forcing Hannah backward.
With a sigh, she turned around and headed for the kitchen. “All right, but be warned. I need a shower, some sugar, and a vat of caffeine before I can hold a conversation without snapping off a head.”
“Fair enough.” He followed her back to the kitchen. She fed the dog and started a pot of coffee. Surveying the room, he set the bakery box on the counter. His sharp eyes paused on the gun and holster on the coffee table in the adjoining family room. Putting the gun away would have been a good idea. AnnaBelle scarfed her food and padded to the back door. Hannah snatched the leash from its hook.
“Grant and Ellie just let her outside by herself,” Brody said.
Hannah stomped into a pair of her brother’s boots standing by the back door. “I am not taking a chance of losing Carson’s dog while the kid’s in Disney World. I have one job while I’m here, and that kid has already lost too much. Yesterday I couldn’t get her to come in, and last night she went nuts over a deer in the yard. I don’t need her running off after the wildlife.” She contemplated a row of jackets hanging on wall hooks. “Is it cold out?”
“Yes.” Brody got up and walked over to her. He smelled like cedar and spices. His navy-blue sport coat and gray slacks looked good on his rangy body. The jacket bulged around the weapon in his shoulder holster. Her tongue found her teeth again. Not cool. Neither was the way his quiet masculinity affected her.
Smiling, he took the leash from her hand and gently shouldered her away from the door. “Go get your shower. I’ll walk the dog.”
“Thank you.” Hannah kicked off her brother’s boots and took her coffee upstairs. Her short hair stood straight up on the top of her head like a rooster’s comb. Ugh. After a two-minute shower, she brushed her teeth and gave her short locks a quick finger comb. Not that any of this mattered. Brody had already seen the real her. But at least now she didn’t look—or smell—like she’d been on a three-day wilderness survival trek.
Back downstairs, she settled at the island and concentrated on caffeine consumption. The door opened, and a wave of cold air swept into the kitchen with Brody and the dog. Hannah double-handed and drained her mug.
Brody shed his jacket and took the stool next to her. He peered into her cup. “Is it safe to talk now?”
“Almost.” Hannah suppressed a grin and refilled her mug. She lifted the pot in his direction. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
“Cream or sugar?”
He shook his head, settled back, and waited for her to sit down. Then he opened the box of donuts and nudged it toward her. His eyes were full of questions, but she couldn’t be bribed. He was behaving for now, but she knew from past experience, the cop had a subtle way of nosing for information. He was a natural at getting people to talk without thinking. He’d make a clever lawyer. But as a cop, he probably didn’t like attorneys.
She’d thought he didn’t like her. But it seemed she’d been wrong.
Hannah bit into a donut. The explosion of vanilla cream and chocolate icing set off a major foodgasm. Maybe she could be bribed.
“You look troubled this morning.” He studied her face. “You worried about the upcoming trial or the e-mail?”
“Both.” She licked a bit of chocolate icing from her lips and caught him watching. “There’s nothing I can do about the change-of-venue request, but the thought of Carson having to testify breaks my heart, and the assault case against Grant worries me.”
“The assault case doesn’t have much heft,” Brody said. “But you should talk to the prosecutor.”
Hannah smiled. “It’s so hard to get a straight answer out of a lawyer.”
Brody laughed. “It certainly can be.”
Grant had beaten the hell out of the man who’d killed their brother. Over the past eight months, Hannah had used her lawyerly powers to keep the charge against her brother at bay.
“The circumstances were extraordinary. Regardless of the letter of the law, your brother is a soldier with post-traumatic stress. Considering his exemplary military service, I have trouble believing any jury would hold his actions against him. The scumbag he beat up murdered his brother and sister-in-law and tried to kill the rest of his family. Grant was protecting them, and he lost control. If the assault wasn’t tied to a high-profile murder case, it wouldn’t be an issue.”
The criminal defense attorney she’d consulted agreed, but she’d put him on retainer in the event the case against Grant went to trial.
Hannah nodded. “Opposing counsel is simply doing his job. He’s pulling every thread he can find in hopes that he can unravel the case. That’s how the system is supposed to work.” Even though, at the moment, she hated every legal right given to Lee and Kate’s killer.
“Isn’t that what you would do if it was your case?” Disapproval hardened his eyes.
“I don’t think I could be a defense attorney, not after Lee’s murder,” she said.
“I guess not. But none of this tells me why you’re sleeping with your gun handy.” And there it was. Patient as always, he’d cleverly circled around to the question he’d undoubtedly wanted to ask since he’d seen her weapon on the table.
Hannah bristled. The cop hadn’t liked her handgun back in March. Obviously his opinion hadn’t changed since then. “I have a permit, and if I’d had my gun in Vegas, the situation would have had an entirely different outcome.”
“I wasn’t commenting on the legality of your weapon.” Brody’s gaze bore into hers. “I want to know why you think you need it in Scarlet Falls.”
Hannah flushed and blinked away. “The dog wouldn’t stop barking last night. Turned out to be a deer in the yard.”
Brody’s head tilted, as if her statement didn’t compute. “It’s not like you to be easily spooked.”
“I wasn’t spooked. I was being careful. There’s a difference.”
“So the dog barked, and you armed yourself and went out to investigate?” His voice rose.
Irritation warmed her. “What are you talking about? Why on earth would I go outside if I thought there was a possible threat out there? I would never leave a secure location to chase an unknown danger in the dark. That would be stupid. Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“Um. No.” He leaned back, confusion creasing his features. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood.”
“No, you assumed,” Hannah shot back.
“You’re right. I did. But I learned from experience that you Barretts have a habit of taking matters into your own hands. Like that night in Vegas.”
“Only when absolutely necessary.” It was Hannah’s turn to look away. “What was I supposed to do, ignore her? I called for the police. There wasn’t any help handy.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Empathy softened his eyes. “Now tell me why you slept with your gun.” He covered her hand with his. For a few seconds, the contact was good, solid, and grounding. Royce’s similar touch had spurred her to snatch her hand away, but this she welcomed. Brody’s touch felt right and tempted her to return the intimate gesture. Then the weight of his hand grew heavier and heavier until she felt trapped. Brody was a good man, but she was not staying in Scarlet Falls.
She pulled her hand out from under his, got up, and moved across the floor to refill her mug. Distance. She needed a larger personal boundary. Ten feet of kitchen wasn’t enough. Brody waited, his features steady with patient determination.
“I received another e-mail.”
Brody’s body went rigid. “When?”
“Late yesterday. Same message.”
“And you’re just telling me now?”
“I forwarded it to the detective in Vegas. Untraceable, just like the first one.” Hannah’s control slipped. “I can’t get that girl’s face out of my head. She needed help, and I failed her.”
Brody was on his feet and in front of her in two strides. He took her by the arms. “You can’t take responsibility. You tried to help her, at great risk to your own safety. Most people would have run the other way.”
“Maybe if I’d have run away, I could have gotten help.”
“No.” He gave her a light shake. “You can’t go back and second-guess your decision. At the time, you made the call based on the information you had in front of you. That’s all anyone can be expected to do. It’s too easy to question your actions with the benefit of hindsight.” His face went grim. Clearly, Brody had his own demons. “Besides, you just said it two minutes ago. You had no options. You couldn’t toss her to her assailant and run for it.”
“I didn’t have time to think. I just reacted.” Hannah met his eyes. “The end result is the same. He dragged that poor girl away, and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it.”
“Hannah, you did your best.”
“It wasn’t good enough.” Hannah pulled out of his grip and turned away. She went to the window and stared out into the yard. Two robins hopped across the back lawn. One shoved its beak into the damp grass and ripped a worm from the turf. Its body flailed until the bird ate it in two gulps. A shudder rippled from Hannah’s torso to her bare feet. The pretty scene faded, and she pictured Jewel being yanked from the rental car, her arms pinwheeling, small fists landing useless blows on her attacker’s shoulders, the girl’s terror palpable even to a stunned Hannah.
She rubbed her arms. “Do you think those e-mails are really from her? That she’s reaching out for help?” If she was, her time was running out.
“Why would she contact you and not the police?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense.” Hannah covered her mouth with a fist. “But it feels like I’m letting her down all over again.”
“Do you do this all the time?”
“Do what?” She glanced over her shoulder.
Brody’s arms were crossed over his chest, and his gaze had sharpened. “Not allow yourself to be human. Try to shoulder the weight of things that aren’t your fault.”
She turned back to the yard. The robin moved on, its hunger not sated by one slender earthworm. Predators never stopped hunting.
“Some things are out of your control.” The harsh edge to Brody’s voice made her want to ask him what terrible event from his past had been out of his control. Who or what had put the pain in his eyes?
“I know that. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” There would be more girls at risk, Hannah knew, all because she hadn’t seen that SUV coming.
“I’m glad you’re all right.”
“You’re not going to lecture me on putting myself at risk?”
“Maybe later.” Brody smiled. “You are what you are. Sometimes all that ferocity is a little scary. But I wouldn’t change anything about you.”
A different kind of spark heated Hannah from the inside as she registered the respect—and interest—in Brody’s eyes.
“But you could dial down the impulsiveness just a little. Your family doesn’t deserve to bury another member.” A grim frown dimmed his expression.
“True.” A sad sigh slipped from Hannah’s lips. “But I wish I could have helped her.”
“I know,” he said. “Would you like me to call the Las Vegas police and see if they’ve made any progress on the case?”
Hannah hesitated. “What’s the point?”
“They might tell me more than they’d tell you.”
“Maybe.” She considered his offer. What could it hurt? “OK. Thank you.” She opened her phone and read the detective’s name and number from her contacts list.
Brody checked his watch. “I have to go. Please, if something freaks out the dog—or you—call me.”
“Thanks, Brody.”
“I’ll stop back tonight and let you know what I find out.”
“You don’t need to go to any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. I’ll bring dinner.”
She walked him to the door. “I don’t need—”
“Stop. I didn’t say you needed me to bring you dinner, but I’d like to.” Brody put a finger under her chin and studied her face.
“Thank you.” Hannah’s pulse scurried. He wasn’t going to kiss her. Was he?
Before she could contemplate how she felt about that idea, he lowered his hand and backed away. “Get some rest, Hannah. You look tired.” He went out the door into the chilly morning air.
That’s it?
Hannah stared after him for a minute. Nudging the dog out of the way, she closed the door. “What do you think about Brody?”
AnnaBelle wagged her tail.
“You like everybody.” Hannah patted the dog’s golden head. “I have to admit, Brody’s different. Obviously, the man has never heard of flattery.”
But somehow, Brody’s concern had more of an effect on her than all the empty compliments she’d been given by other men trying to slip past her professional defenses and into her bed. He was honest. He didn’t just look at her; he saw her.
And she liked it. Most of the time.
“I don’t want to deal with this right now,” she said to the dog. “I have nothing to do today. I’m going back to bed. No barking.”
The dog wagged its tail but made no promises.
“Maybe if I get some sleep, Brody won’t tell me I look awful when he comes back tonight.” Hann
ah’s steps quickened. He was coming back.
“Don’t get excited,” she said to the dog. “Nothing is going to happen with him. I’m not staying in Scarlet Falls.”
Chapter Twelve
The medical examiner’s office was located in a concrete building in the county municipal complex. In the antechamber to the autopsy suite, Brody suited up in a gown, booties, and cap. He pulled the clear plastic shield over his face and went inside. The smell of disinfectant didn’t come close to masking the odor of a decomposing corpse.
Frank peeled off his gloves.
“You started early.” As much as Brody felt the need to attend the autopsies of his cases, he was relieved to have missed this one.
“I have a full plate today. But I didn’t want her to wait, in case . . .” Aw. Frank did have a heart. Nice to know. “So far nothing’s come back on the fingerprints. Too bad Chet doesn’t have a set for his daughter. That would have made it easy to rule her out. Waiting must be tough.” Frank paused. “Anyway, I’ll send the DNA in for analysis. The lab promised to expedite the testing. Results should be back in two to three days at the latest.”
“Did you compare her dental records?” Brody asked.
“I did. I can’t comment. Her teeth and jaw are too damaged, and some of her teeth are missing.” Frank shook his head. “I requested a consultation with the state police forensic odontologist.” The New York State Police made forensic dental specialists available through the Medicolegal Investigation Unit. “He’s at a conference and won’t be available until Thursday.”
“Blood type?”
“The corpse is O positive. So is Teresa Thatcher and about one-third of the general population.”
But it was one more factor that weighed in favor of the remains being Teresa. Damn it. Poor Chet.
Brody looked back at the body. An autopsy tech was sewing up the Y-incision with huge black stitches that railroad-tracked up the corpse’s abdomen. “What can you tell me? I’d like to clear this up for Chet faster than three days.”
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