Chip shot Lana a glance to judge her reaction while Bubba placed a hand on Tina’s arm. Probably to stop her from saying more.
Once the game was over—a huge blowout for the home team—Lana managed to maneuver the conversation to Danny. This was her plan, and now she had to pay the consequences.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked after a long moment of silence, her eyes wide with obvious surprise.
Tina and Bubba exchanged a look. Bubba shook his head slightly.
Tina pursed her lips and sat back on the sofa. Reluctantly, in Chip’s opinion. Her husband had effectively warned her off saying more. Did this couple have something to hide? Or maybe Dan had come on to Tina. He’d hit on most of the cheerleaders at one time or another.
“What does it matter now?” Tina murmured.
“I guess it doesn’t.” Lana sipped her wine. “Do you remember where you were the night Danny died?” she asked softly.
Chip rubbed the back of his neck. Here we go. It’d taken all night, but she’d finally gotten around to confirming Bubba’s alibi. How would their hosts react?
“Oh, yeah,” Tina said, her good mood mysteriously restored by the question. “That’s a night I will never forget.” She punched her husband’s arm. “Right, Bubba?”
A huge grin split the linebacker’s face. “You got that right, babe.”
Chip leaned forward. “What was going on that you two remember that night so well?”
Tina’s cheeks flushed pink. “We made love,” she said with an adoring gaze at her husband. “Our first time. Bubba was leaving soon for football practice at USF, and I wanted to make sure he didn’t forget me.”
Bubba kissed the top of her head. “As if.”
What was the appropriate response to that revelation? Certainly not a high five with his old teammate. Congratulations didn’t sound fitting, either, although they’d just effectively taken Bubba out of the suspect category. No question Tina’s spontaneous memory was the real thing.
“I surprised him with a night at the Biltmore Hotel, and he proposed over breakfast,” she continued dreamily. “We had real champagne.”
“And then the next afternoon we heard about Danny,” Bubba said, shaking his head. “Life can sure change directions on a dime.”
Silence descended over the group. Lana blinked rapidly and appeared on the verge of tears. Time to get her out of here. She’d gotten what she wanted.
Chip cleared his throat. “Hey, it’s late, guys.” He placed his beer on the table beside him. “Thanks for everything, but we’d better take off.”
Lana stood. “Yes, thank you. We’ll have you over for a game as soon as we get some furniture.”
“And a television,” Bubba warned.
The minute Chip slid behind the wheel, Lana turned toward him. “Do you believe them?”
“Yes. Don’t you?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Although, if possible, I intend to confirm they had a room at the Biltmore.”
“Whatever,” Chip said, expecting her next question to be what Tina had meant about finally scoring. He’d forgotten Bubba had known about his feelings for Lana. Feelings that had now escalated thanks to a couple of steamy kisses.
Jeez. How many times had he fantasized about kissing Lana in high school? Trouble was, now he wanted a lot more than kisses.
When he started the truck and pulled away, she faced the front again. After a few blocks she said, “Was the evening that horrible for you?”
Chip shrugged. “No, actually I had a good time. I didn’t think I would, but I did.”
“Me, too,” she said.
“Until you got sad about Dan.”
She shifted toward him again. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t try to pretend. You were about to cry in there.”
She released a breath. “You’d be a good detective.”
“What upset you?”
She didn’t answer immediately. He shot her a glance. This was a conversation they needed to have.
“It’s just...how could I have been so blind?” she murmured. “Even Tina—who I swear likes everybody—couldn’t stand Dan. Why didn’t I know that?”
Chip stopped in front of their new home and turned to meet her gaze. He’d asked himself the same question a thousand times over the years.
“I wish someone would have told me,” she said. “Maybe I could have talked to my brother.”
Yeah, right. “Come on, Lana. He was who he was.”
“You should have told me.”
“You and I barely spoke senior year.”
“Because you and Dan weren’t friends anymore.” Searching his face, she said, “After your fight, he told me to stay away from you. Did you know that?”
“I knew it.”
“I missed hanging out with you,” she said.
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Beside him, Lana remained quiet. He released his seat belt, but didn’t exit the truck.
What would have happened if he had told Lana that her brother was as big a bully as her father, that he’d been afraid that her brother would hit her, hurt her? She wouldn’t have believed him. Or she would have hated the messenger. Their friendship would have still been over.
But maybe he should have tried. She was right. Someone should have told her.
“Do you know why Tina didn’t get along with Dan?” she asked.
“No,” he replied. “Probably because Bubba didn’t. You should have asked her.”
“I almost did, but didn’t want to get sidetracked.” After a pause she murmured, “Why didn’t I see Danny the way everyone else did?”
“He was your brother,” Chip said. “I’m just glad he didn’t bully you.”
“I feel pretty stupid.”
He looked away from her, hating to see her so subdued. “You were a kid, Lana. Kids make mistakes.”
“Mistakes. Right.” She nodded and swiveled her head to look at Gary’s home.
Chip followed her gaze. Light blazed brightly behind the living room curtain.
“But I’m not giving up,” she said. “Bringing a murderer to justice is never a mistake, no matter who the victim is.”
Chip didn’t respond, but seriously wished she would give up.
“Did I ever tell you about all the support groups I attended?” she asked.
“No.”
“For years after Dan’s death, I met with others who had lost loved ones to violent crimes. Mostly it was parents, but some spouses and siblings. My mother refused to go. The ones who handled their loss best were those where the perpetrators had been found and sentenced.”
“Makes sense.” At least she’d gotten some type of counseling. He hadn’t known that.
She turned to look at him again. “I became a cop to solve Dan’s murder, yes, but also for all of those other grief-stricken people who needed closure. And for my mother. I promised her I wouldn’t stop until I brought Dan’s murderer to trial.”
She released her seat belt, but wrapped her arms around her middle and made no further move to exit the truck.
“I shouldn’t have involved you in my investigation,” she said.
“Why not?”
“I’m afraid it’s going to ruin our friendship a second time.”
“Yeah, well, I was seriously pissed that you thought I was a murderer.”
“I know.”
“Am I still a suspect?” he asked. “Did you ask me to move in so you could keep an eye on me, too?”
“No.” She answered without hesitation and motioned toward Gary’s home. “After tonight, I’m concentrating on our new neighbor.”
Chip searched her face and decided he believed her.
“So, what did Tina mean about you finally scoring with me?” she asked.
Chip released a breath. He was ready for the question. He’d decided to be honest with her. It was time.
He stared straight ahead, wishing things had gone down differently eight years ago. “I was crazy about you all through high school, Lana. And most of the team knew it.”
Her eyes widened. “You were?”
“Yeah.”
“But you never asked me out.”
He shook his head. “Dan warned me off.”
She recoiled. “Even before your fight?”
“Yes.”
“I never knew,” she said softly.
“Dan made sure you didn’t.”
“Tell me what happened between you and Danny.”
He hesitated. They were clearing the air. Maybe he should tell her. Why not?
No, not tonight. She’d already cried over her brother once.
“Let’s go inside, Lana. It’s been a long day. We’ll both feel better after some sleep.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TWO WEEKS LATER, Lana parked behind Chip’s vehicle in the driveway of the home she now shared with him and released an exhausted sigh of relief. Her tour hadn’t been particularly difficult, but the extra time it took to switch vehicles at the beginning and end of each shift seriously ate into her day.
She checked the time on her phone, hoping to beat yesterday’s record, and groaned. Five forty-three. The turnaround had taken her longer today than last night.
She felt displaced, as if she couldn’t call either residence her home.
Lana noted two voice mails from her mother, but ignored them. No sense listening. She knew exactly what message Mom had left. She demanded an update on the status of her investigation into Dan’s murder.
Shaking her head, Lana exited the car. She had nothing to report. She’d made zero progress on her investigation into Gary Shotwell. Oh, she waved at him occasionally, yelled a greeting, and Chip had had a few conversations, but they’d learned nothing illuminating other than that he spent a lot of time at a local gym. Gary was a pretty private guy.
Except after dark, when he became very popular.
On her way to the front door, she glanced over to his home. All was quiet there for now. But after 10:00 p.m., cars would begin arriving. On Friday and Saturday nights, as many as ten would show up. The drivers wouldn’t stay long, though. Twenty minutes so far was the longest anyone had remained.
From the looks of it, Gary sold something out of his home. Dealt in something illegal. Whatever he sold was small, though, so most likely drugs. Was it pot, pills, heroin?
Or maybe steroids?
Every night after dinner, when Chip returned to his bedroom to read, she positioned herself with binoculars at a window in a darkened room to note the buyers’ times of arrival, and record the license plates and times of departure. She intended to turn the information over to her department’s vice squad.
If she couldn’t get the goods on Gary for murder one, perhaps she could send him to prison for trafficking.
But she wasn’t ready to give up on her cold case. Not yet. She’d invited Gary to come over tomorrow to watch the Dolphins play New York. She’d told him to bring a date, but didn’t know if he intended to.
She opened the mailbox by the front door and scooped out the contents. Without looking, she knew everything was for Chip. For now she got her mail at her old apartment, when she changed out of her uniform.
She pushed open the front door and yelled, “It’s me.”
She dropped her purse and the mail on the pass-through between the living room and the kitchen, hoping Chip was ready for a break.
He yelled something unintelligible from his room, which she took to mean he’d be at his books a little while longer.
Funny how much she looked forward to seeing him each night. She’d discovered she liked having someone to talk to at the end of her shift. He was always in his bedroom, studying, but would emerge to say hello and ask about her day. She’d ask about his and hear his latest complaints about hundreds of pages of reading and grumpy Professor Nichols, his law-school nemesis.
And if he’d seen Gary, she’d learn about that, too. They talked about the case, how they weren’t making much progress.
Lana sighed and opened the refrigerator. Wondering about dinner, she removed a soda. Tonight was her night to cook. They took turns preparing a simple evening meal, which they usually ate while watching the news in front of the huge new flat-screen television they’d purchased jointly. Chip had scoffed at the tiny TV in her apartment and had insisted they needed something larger to lure Gary over to watch football.
She’d had to agree, but her half of the cost had emptied her savings account, which she’d planned on using to buy a surveillance camera to keep track of Gary’s visitors 24/7. Now she’d have to wait a couple of paydays to afford the system she wanted. She took a draw on the soda and glared at the giant, empty screen.
Chip had sold some sort of a surfboard to obtain his half of the money, but had two more stored in the garage—along with a variety of dinged-up skateboards and other gear—so she doubted if he’d miss the one he had sold. If he kept selling his gear, maybe they’d even be able to squeeze in a car someday.
Her ringtone broke the silence in the room. Lana checked the readout and answered. “Hey, sis.”
“You up for visitors?” Sandy asked. “I’m dying to see your new place, and this is the first free moment I’ve had.”
Lana plopped onto the rented sofa that had arrived the same day as the new television. “Are you bringing my adorable nephew?”
“Nah. I thought I’d leave him home to fend for himself. He’s four now. He’ll be fine.”
Lana grinned, looking forward to seeing Mike. “Where’s Brady?” she asked.
“Working late.”
“How would you feel about picking up a pizza for dinner?”
“Sounds great,” Sandy said. “I’ll stop by Paoletti’s. Is Chip home?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’d better order two.”
An hour later, Sandy arrived with two pizza boxes and a rambunctious four-year-old in tow. Lana took the warm boxes from her sister’s arms as Mike rushed into the house, announcing he was starved.
“This house is so cute,” Sandy said, looking around. “I love the front porch.”
“Yeah, but we hardly ever get the chance to use it,” Lana said.
“You need a swing.”
Stretching his long, muscled arms high overhead, Chip appeared. Lana smiled at him and got a grin in return. She suspected he’d been lured out of his den by the smell of Paoletti’s famous garlicky sauce. Or maybe it was the sound of visitors. He’d asked her several times when her sister would come for a visit.
“Sandy,” he said, moving toward her. “Wow, it’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” Sandy said, giving him a big hug. “How are you?”
“Doing good. And who is this?” Chip asked, looking down at Mike.
“My son, Michael,” Sandy said. “Can you believe I have a kid?”
“Hey, little man,” Chip said, squatting before him. “I remember your mother when she was your age.”
Mike gazed at him with wide eyes. “Are you the one with the skateboard?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You taught my mother how?”
Chip laughed. “A long time ago.”
“Can you teach me?”
Chip glanced at Sandy. “If your mother says it’s okay.”
“Please, Mom,” Mike pleaded.
“I thought you were starving,” Sandy said.
Mike nodded. “That’s right. I am.”
Everyone laughed, and Lana brought out cold sodas, plates and napkins. They still didn’t have a table, but sat around the living room, catching up and feasting on mushroom-an
d-pepperoni pizza. Afterward Mike reminded his mother about the possibility of a skateboard lesson.
“Okay, Mom?” Chip asked.
“Just promise you won’t kill him,” Sandy said.
“Don’t worry,” Chip said. “He’ll be wearing a helmet. Be right back.”
By the time Chip had decked out Mike in a helmet, protective knee pads and elbow pads, it was almost dark. Mike was beyond excited when Chip handed him the smallest skateboard he owned to carry outside.
The twilight held a hint of fall as Lana and her sister sat on the porch steps with iced tea to observe the lesson. Not quite cool, but not blistering hot, which was a treat for Miamians who were longing for a relief from the sticky weather.
“Mike looks ridiculous in that oversize gear,” Sandy said.
“At least he won’t get hurt,” Lana said, watching Chip demonstrate for her nephew how to mount the board.
“And look at The Chipper,” Sandy said. “Man, who knew he would turn out to be so hot?”
“You should see him when he returns from his morning jog,” Lana said.
“Hot and sweaty?” Sandy asked.
Lana grinned. “And six-pack abs.”
“So, how is it going?” Sandy asked after a sip of her tea.
“Not much luck yet,” Lana said. “But Gary is coming over tomorrow to watch the Dolphins game. I’ve bought a lot of beer and am hoping to learn something then.”
“I’m not talking about your murder investigation,” Sandy said.
Lana swiveled her head. “What are you talking about?”
“Your relationship with Chip. Now that you’re living together, things have to be different.”
Lana shrugged. “We’ve had some rocky patches, but we’re getting along.”
“Rocky patches? Are you guys doing it yet?”
“No!” Lana rolled her eyes. “We’re friends.”
“I’ll bet you’re friends with benefits before long.” She motioned with her chin. “If I weren’t married, I’d be all over that.”
Lana remained silent, not wanting to reveal that on the days he didn’t have class, she’d made it part of her morning routine to ensure she saw Chip in his workout gear. Usually the highlight of her day.
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