by Hope White
“But work—”
“Forget about work until this thing is over. I can’t have you wandering the grounds, making yourself a target.”
“But my thirty hours—”
“Take time for yourself, Bree. Consider it your Christmas bonus, okay?”
“Thanks, big brother.”
Scott heard the front door shut with a click, then Bree’s footsteps come down the hall. She stepped into the kitchen and froze at the sight of him.
“That bad, huh?” He fingered his hair.
“No I just... I didn’t know you were awake.”
She went to the stove and put on the teakettle.
“You’re not having coffee?” he said.
“Nope, I’m a tea person, remember?”
So she’d made coffee for everyone else. That’s the kind of person she was—thoughtful.
“Did you sleep okay?” she asked.
“Sure, you?”
She shrugged.
“Nightmares about last night?”
“At first.” She turned. “Then I decided to change my focus and concentrate on the case. So—” she pulled a whiteboard out from behind the table “—I thought we’d play fill in the blanks.”
“Board games, great,” he said with teasing sarcasm.
“Actually, I’m hoping this game will help us figure out who’s after you.”
“Okay, I’m in.”
* * *
Word must have gotten out about the break-in because people kept stopping by to check on Bree. A good thing since she had tons of sweets to unload from her anxiety bake-off this morning. Each time the doorbell rang she’d invite another friend into her home and serve a warm beverage with a scone or piece of sweet bread, then give them a to-go plate of muffins or cookies.
There was hardly time to focus on the whiteboard with all the people swinging by. By midmorning, Scott decided to go back to his room to change clothes.
He returned in time for lunch and she made grilled ham-and-cheese sandwiches.
“Maybe I need to put a sign on the front door,” she said, as she joined him at the kitchen table.
“What kind of sign?”
“Out of Treats. That will give us a few minutes of privacy.”
“Uh-oh, am I in trouble?” he teased.
“Eat your sandwich or you will be.” She winked.
“You’re adorable when you do that.”
“Um, thanks.” She took a bite of her sandwich and felt herself blush at the compliment. She wasn’t used to such honesty, or admiration.
“I’ve been thinking....”
His eyes were locked on her and she feared blushing again since she secretly hoped he was going to say something profound about their relationship.
Instead, his gazed drifted to the whiteboard. “All roads seem to lead to one thing.” He got up and with his back to her made slashing marks on the board. When he turned around, he’d drawn four different subjects in corners of the board with lines going to the center of the board and the word: water.
“It’s all about the water samples, so let’s start there. We’ll make a map of all bodies of water near the plant,” he said.
She grabbed her laptop off the work desk. “How many miles from the plant?”
“Make it fifty.”
He leaned over her shoulder, distracting her focus. “Why don’t you eat your sandwich while I do this?” she suggested.
He sat down and ate his lunch, but she felt his eyes on her.
She looked up the plant’s location on the internet and used a map program to draw a fifty-mile radius around the property. “That would be Mt. Vernon to the north and Renton to the south.” She turned the laptop around so he could see it. “You were out here at Echo Mountain in Woods Pass, but you wouldn’t have been looking for samples there, would you?”
“Are there any bodies of water near Woods Pass?”
She scanned the area. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“Does any water travel through the pass?”
“Like runoff? Sure, but those won’t necessarily be on a map.”
“Doesn’t the EPA take regular samples of water?”
“Not sure, but I have a cousin whose wife works for the EPA one county south of us. Maybe she has access to statewide information. I could call her?”
“That would be great.”
“I’ll have to call Mom to get her number.” She nibbled her lower lip.
“And you don’t want to?”
“She was upset about Chuck’s injury and then after last night’s break-in—” she hesitated “—you’re not her favorite person right now.”
“Understandable.”
Bree pulled out her phone and made the call, hoping Mom’s frustration with Scott wouldn’t stop her from helping Bree contact her cousin’s wife.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hey, Mom, it’s Bree. How’s Uncle Chuck?”
“Better. He’s at home resting. And how are you? Did they find the man who broke into your cottage?”
“Not yet, but we’re working on it.” She realized her mistake too late.
“We?”
“Scott and I are trying to piece together information that might help us figure out why someone’s after him, which is why I called, actually. I need Vivienne’s number.”
“Vivienne? Why?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m a smart woman.”
“We think this has something to do with water in the area so it would be helpful to know if there’s been any water alerts or strange substances in state water sources. I figured since she works for the EPA—”
“Hang on, I’ll get my address book.”
Bree gave Scott the thumbs-up sign. Mom seemed awfully supportive, considering.
Mom came back on the line and gave her Vivienne’s cell phone number. “Be sure to tell her Aunt Maggie says hi.”
“Will do.”
“And when things calm down, bring your friend over for apple cider beef stew.”
“You mean...?”
“Yes, I mean Scott. Aiden told me Scott came to your rescue last night.”
“Yes, he did.”
“Well, I’d like to thank him in person.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Love you, Breanna.”
“Love you, too, Mom.” Breanna ended the call and smiled at Scott. “Mom invited you to dinner.”
“How did that happen?”
“Aiden told her you chased the guy off last night.” She shrugged. “I’ll call Vivienne.”
Bree called her cousin’s wife and got the scoop on water sources in the state of Washington. There weren’t any reports of tainted water near Echo Mountain, but there were concerns about copper levels in water ten miles south of the plant. Bree thanked Vivienne and said she hoped to see her soon at a family event.
“Okay.” Bree pointed to the computer. “Ten miles south of the plant they found odd levels of copper in the water at Lake Hawthorne.”
“Odd as in dangerous?”
“Not quite. Sounds like they’re going to retest in thirty days and investigate the source. A certain amount of copper comes naturally from the soil but too much can cause health problems.”
The doorbell rang. “Must be the security company,” she said.
“You going to give them a plate of cookies, too?” he teased.
She glanced at the kitchen counters, still half-full with pans of muffins, scones, cookies and breads. “I think I can spare some.”
She snatched a plate of goodies off the counter and headed for the front door. Scott followed close behind.
“Check before you open that door,” he
said.
She eyed the peephole and saw a tall, redheaded woman on the other side. Bree swung the door open. The woman glanced down at her with a snobbish expression.
“Christa?” Scott said.
“Oh, my God, Scott, you’re okay.” Side-stepping Bree, she threw her arms around Scott’s neck.
FIFTEEN
What was she doing here? As Scott politely returned the hug, he shook his head in apology at Bree for Christa’s sudden appearance and public display of affection. Christa’s expensive perfume assaulted his nose, triggering a headache.
“How did you find me?” He broke the embrace.
She grabbed his face with her manicured hands and kissed him, hard, as if she were claiming him, branding him.
Letting Bree know he was taken.
Scott grabbed Christa’s shoulders and broke the unwelcome lip-lock.
“Christa—”
“I was so worried about you. I called work and they said you’d disappeared from an assignment and I thought you might be having flashbacks from the Domingo case.” She glanced at Bree. “He has some emotional issues.”
“I don’t,” he said. “I’m fine.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Christa countered. “Someone told me you were shot. Oh, baby, where are you hurt? Let me make it better.”
“Would you like some coffee or tea?” Bree interrupted in an oddly high-pitched voice.
“Espresso?” Christa said with a raised eyebrow.
“Nope, coffee, tea and sweets.” Bree shoved the plate at Christa and she reeled as if Bree shoved cow dung in her face.
“I’m off carbs.” She turned to Scott and blinked her false eyelashes.
What had Scott ever seen in this woman?
“Come on, babe,” Christa said, taking his arm.
“I’m waiting with Bree for a security system to be installed.”
“Can’t someone else wait with her?”
Bree headed for the kitchen. “I’ll call Harvey.”
“There, see?” Christa said.
Scott might be a little messed up and confused, but he knew one thing for sure: Christa didn’t belong here, not in Bree’s charming home.
“Why don’t you go to the resort’s restaurant and order lunch,” he said. “I’ll meet you there after Bree’s friend shows up.”
Christa stuck her lower lip out in a pout. “Baby, I just found you. I don’t want to leave.”
“Harvey will be here shortly. Go on. I need to talk to Bree.”
“If you’re not there in fifteen minutes I’m coming to get you, love.” Christa gave Scott one last kiss on the lips and left.
He shut the door, remarking how bitter the kiss tasted, nothing like the kiss he’d shared with Bree yesterday at the plant.
With a deep sigh, he headed to the kitchen, wanting to talk to Bree about Christa. What would he say? He hesitated before crossing the threshold. Christa was part of his life, the real world, while Bree was... What? She was his Florence Nightingale; the woman who’d saved him both physically and emotionally during the past week. She’d been thrown into this situation and not by choice. If he hadn’t fallen in her path she never would have met Scott, never would have protected him, and his actions never would have put her life at risk.
Reality struck him hard in the chest. Maybe this was the best thing for both of them, waking both him and Bree up to the fact he had another life with another woman. Maybe this would end Bree’s need to continue protecting him.
When he stepped into the kitchen he found Bree bagging up more goodies for friends.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “Christa can be a little overpowering.”
“She was worried about you. Totally understandable.” She glanced at him and frowned, then grabbed a paper napkin and wiped at the corner of his lips. She held up the napkin to reveal bright red lipstick. “So, are we done here?”
She quickly turned to pack up more baked goods. He realized she couldn’t even look at him, so upset that he’d led her on when he was obviously in a committed relationship.
Yet if that were the case, why did he want to stay here and avoid seeing Christa? Something was off.
“Bree,” he said.
“You don’t have to wait for Harvey. I’ll be fine.”
“I won’t leave you until I know you’re safe.”
“Do what you need to do, then.”
As she flitted around the kitchen she began humming “Let it Snow.” Was Scott making her nervous?
“Stop for a second.” He touched her shoulder and she reeled back.
They looked into each other’s eyes for a good ten seconds, not saying a word. He searched his mind for the right words, wanting to say something that would ease the tension but he came up empty.
Please, God, help me find the words....
Instead, the doorbell rang.
“That would be Harvey,” she said, but didn’t move.
“It is real,” he said.
“What?”
“What I feel for you, it’s real, Breanna.”
“That’s good to know. But your girlfriend is waiting.”
* * *
As Christa picked at her green salad, she chattered on about how insanely worried she’d been when Scott didn’t return her calls. He was catching about half of what she said, his attention focused out the window overlooking the grounds where employees were stringing more Christmas lights across the split rail fence.
On a normal day Bree would have been out there helping with the decorations. He could imagine her bright smile as she positioned the strands for maximum effect. She loved Christmas, a holiday Scott dreaded due to his family situation. While all the kids got new bikes, video games or baseball mitts for Christmas, Scott and Em were lucky to get one present under the tree. He’d never blamed Mom, but he’d lost faith in Santa at an early age and lost faith in God, as well.
Spending time with Bree had somehow opened his heart again to the possibility of faith and hope triumphing over desperation.
“Are you listening to a word I’ve said?”
He glanced at Christa. “What?”
“Let’s go. This salad is subpar.” She waved her hand in the air as if expecting every staff member in the restaurant to race to the table.
The server came by with the check and she flung a credit card at the girl. Scott excused himself, saying he’d pack while she settled the bill.
He went to his room and appreciated the silence. As he packed up his things, he found a few empty plastic vials in the front pocket of a pair of jeans. Eyeing them, he had a flash of placing two vials in a padded envelope and handing it to someone.
He struggled to capture the image more clearly, trying to figure out to whom he’d given the vials and why. When nothing came, he shook his head and finished shoving his clothes into his duffel.
Glancing once around the room, his eyes caught on the table where Bree had savored her macaroni and cheese. That smile of utter contentment would haunt his thoughts, his dreams for years to come.
With a sigh, he left the room and left the essence of Breanna McBride behind. Or at least that’s what he told himself.
Christa was impatiently waiting for him in the lobby. He followed her to a rented SUV and they took off, a knot balling in Scott’s chest.
“I’m glad you’ve given up on your investigation. You’re not a cop anymore. You have to stop seeing conspiracies where there are none. These kinds of things are best left to the local authorities and EPA.”
“EPA?”
“Yes, you’d concocted this story that someone was sabotaging the GRI plant and toxins were getting into the local water supply. Like anyone would go to those lengths. Seriously, I think you need meds.”
&n
bsp; If he was mentally disturbed then why were men out to get him, and harm Bree? And if he walked away he’d be turning his back on the possibility of the local water supply being poisoned, of Bree and her family and friends getting sick.
“Stop the car,” he said.
“What?”
“Stop!”
“What’s wrong, are you feeling ill?” She pulled to the side of the road.
He got out and opened the back door, grabbing his duffel.
“Scott?”
“Go back to Chicago. I’ve got to finish this.”
“You’re not thinking straight. Where are you going?”
“Up north, near Lake Hawthorne.”
“Okay, I’ll drive.”
“No, I need to do this by myself.” And he didn’t want to involve another innocent in his situation. He may not see a future with Christa, but he didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.
“Scott, please get back in the car.”
“I can’t, Christa.”
“But how will you get there?”
“I’ll walk back to the resort and rent a car. I’ll be fine.”
“You want to get away from me that badly?” She hushed.
“I’m sorry you went to the trouble of finding me. I’ll compensate you for your plane ticket, expenses, whatever.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Goodbye, Christa.”
“You mean, goodbye as in—”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” She sighed and glanced out the front window of her rental. “At least let me drive you back to the resort—”
“No, I need the walk.” He turned and started back.
He didn’t want her anywhere near the resort, near Bree. Then again, shouldn’t he stay out of Bree’s life, as well?
“Hey, wait,” she said, jogging up to him on high heels. “At least take some hydration with you.” With a sad smile, she handed him a full bottle of water.
“Thanks and...I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” She gave him an awkward hug, went back to her car and drove off.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw her car disappear down the highway.
They say brain injuries can change one’s personality. Was that what was happening to Scott? Why he couldn’t stand being around his girlfriend anymore?