Falling for the Brother

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “I have to confess.” Mason interrupted her thoughts. “I might have already mentioned this to her. As a matter of fact, of course I did. It just came to me and I blurted it out because it seemed like such a miraculous idea.”

  “What did she say?” He wouldn’t be there talking to her about this if Miriam had refused.

  “She loved the idea.” He glanced down at the shoe he’d crossed over his knee.

  “And?”

  “She was convinced you’d have a problem with it. I told her not to worry about you. That I’d handle it.” At least he had the guts to look at her when he confessed that last part.

  “You’d handle me, you mean.”

  “Yeah. That’s pretty much what I told her.”

  Her stomach warmed when it should be knotted and slightly cold. Or getting ready for lunch. “Just out of curiosity, how did you plan to go about ‘handling me’?”

  “I hadn’t worked that out yet.” She was sure she saw a glint in those green eyes. Mason had seemed to enjoy their time together that night so long ago. Even when they were just acting like brother and sister. Or platonic friends, she amended. He’d never been a brother to her. She’d never spent enough time with him for the familial bond to develop.

  Because she wanted to continue baiting him, she stood up to end the conversation more abruptly than she might have done. “I have no problem with the plan at all,” she said. “I think it’s great.” Brilliant, she might have said, but thought that might lead them down a path she didn’t want to travel.

  She could assist Mason. She could care, from a distance, about his family. She could even fantasize about him in private—although she didn’t recommend that to herself. She was simply acknowledging that it might happen. What she could not do was tease him. Joke with him. Or in any way let him inside her personal boundaries.

  She walked to her office door and he joined her. “I don’t mean to rush you off, but I’ve got a full schedule this morning,” she said, pulling the door open.

  She was meeting with the managers of all of the Stand’s public businesses out on the strip adjacent to the property in half an hour.

  And she had no room in her schedule, or her life, for private conversation with Mason Thomas.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MASON WAS BACK in Albina by midmorning on Wednesday, canvassing the neighborhood where his father had grown up, and where Bruce now lived with Gram. His brother’s truck wasn’t in the garage, but it was clear he’d been home, judging by the dishes in the sink. Mason had Gram’s key and her grudging permission to look through everything in the house. He still felt like dirt doing it.

  Gram had said she’d fallen while trying to get some liqueur out of a top cupboard for a parfait recipe that was one of Bruce’s favorites. The stepladder was in the kitchen. Empty parfait glasses still sat on the counter. But the doctor had been insistent that the break in Gram’s arm could not have come from a fall. The bruises on either side of her chin were very unlikely to have come from a fall, either. And the previous breaks...

  He was a crime scene investigator. It was his job to look for the signs that weren’t obvious. For the small thing that might tell the true story.

  He didn’t find it in the kitchen. Yes, Gram could have fallen. But the fall didn’t break her arm.

  At her age, however, she should’ve had other bruises from such a fall. The doctor hadn’t reported any.

  Removing the phone from his pocket as the thought occurred to him, he redialed his most recent call. And when Harper didn’t answer, he left a message asking her to have someone check Gram for other bruising, just because the littlest thing could point him in a different direction. A small circular bruise on the leg would at least indicate that she’d taken physical pressure somewhere else. Even just a little bit of it. He got off before he could introduce a personal note into the recording.

  He’d spent much of the drive back from Santa Raquel fighting a mind that insisted on hanging out with Harper. Replaying conversations. Thinking far too much about the past.

  About what he’d done. And hadn’t done.

  About her.

  Remembering the softness of her lips. The passion in them. The way her tongue hadn’t been shy at all about tangling with his.

  Remembering the soft moans...and the lack of shyness in the way she’d asked him to love her harder.

  A box of tapioca was on the counter where Gram did most of her meal preparation. Behind an empty cereal box. He found an unused mixing bowl with a couple of used cereal bowls on the counter. A used plate and glass were in the sink. One set.

  Just Bruce, eating and leaving his mess, just as Gram said he’d do. Not even bothering to put away Gram’s unfinished business.

  * * *

  DISAPPOINTMENT FLOODED HARPER when she saw she’d missed a call from Mason. Stupid, senseless emotion that had no place in her current situation. He’d left a message. She knew what he needed, called Lynn Bishop, their resident nurse practitioner to look in on Miriam—not an unusual occurrence when a resident came to them with injuries—and erased the thought that now she had Mason’s voice on her voice mail.

  She’d saved the call. She took her lunch of veggies and a bagel out to the Garden of Renewal and sat alone, thinking about listening to the message again, trying to justify a reason for doing so. She deleted it instead and watched her phone on and off all afternoon in case he called again. She was on patrol for part of the time, and had a break from thinking about Mason while she focused on the Stand and its residents. But in her office, with paperwork in front of her, she started checking her cell again and saw the text come in from Alissa, telling her that she and Brianna were with Miriam.

  A moment later, she saw Bruce’s number pop up. Grabbing the phone, she willed the alarmed pace of her heart to slow—a habit she’d adopted sometime over the past five years. She was no longer married to Bruce. His infidelity was not a threat to her well-being. She had no cause to get riled when she heard his voice.

  “Hey, there,” she said, keeping her own voice calm—and filled with the compassion she’d always felt for him. The man did a hard job very well with no thought to himself. He saved lives. Even more, he truly cared about the lives he saved. As a junior officer at a crime scene, she’d once seen him with tears on his cheeks as he held a young boy in his arms while the boy bled out...

  “Hey.” His tone was soft, too, reflecting the easy familiarity he’d adopted very early in their relationship. His “bedroom voice” she’d once teased him about.

  Her turn again. She had no idea what to say. Bruce hadn’t been told where his grandmother was. He’d have no legitimate reason to be calling Harper to ask about her.

  Mason didn’t want Bruce to know anything. He thought Bruce was the bad guy they were out to get, and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand it. From the day she’d met Detective Bruce Thomas, she’d admired him. His skill on the job. The respect in which he was held by the other officers—officers who’d worked with him for years.

  “How’s Brie?”

  Oh. Right. Of course. He had reasons, other than Miriam, for calling her. What the hell? Her mind was so wrapped up in Mason, in his hunt for Miriam’s truth, she’d missed a step.

  “She’s fine. She was telling me last night that houses should have screens in every room that would let you order food. That way she could have a snack in bed whenever she wanted it.”

  His familiar chuckle calmed her. “Did she think the screen would prepare and deliver the food?”

  Harper was smiling now, too. “She said workers would do it. The people who owned the screen business.” No matter how much her time in the Thomas family had changed her, hurt her, she’d come out of it with Brianna and having that little girl was, hands down, the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  “I was going to try to make it down to see her a
t the end of the week. I expect to be wrapping up this case tomorrow or the next day, but...”

  Now that she was no longer at the department, she wasn’t privy to the details of his assignments. His words sent a jolt of panic through her. Deep breaths, focusing on slowing her heart rate, weren’t helping.

  “Just let me know when, and we’ll meet you someplace.” He could not show up at The Lemonade Stand. Technically he didn’t know where the shelter was, or what shelter she worked for, but with his cop skills, she could never be sure what he did and did not find out.

  As a cop, he’d have the clearance. But now that he was, based on Lemonade Stand paperwork, a possible abuser, he’d be arrested if he came anywhere near the place.

  He’d be charged, too, if it could be proven that he knew his grandmother was there.

  It wasn’t right, arresting a guy when all he thought he was doing was picking up his daughter. And yet, she couldn’t tell him Miriam was there. The whole point was to keep her safe from him.

  Or from whomever had hurt her.

  On the edge of her seat now, literally, Harper forced her mind into work mode. Did Bruce know more than he was saying?

  Would he tell her that Miriam was away? That she’d been hurt?

  Did he know she’d been in touch with Mason? That his brother had contacted her? She could just imagine what that would do to him. Silent fury would build until he walked out without a word...

  She shook her head. He couldn’t walk out on her anymore. Not ever again. She’d left him.

  “The thing is,” he continued, “I caught a break this afternoon, found myself with some free time so I’m here in Santa Raquel now. I was hoping I could take her for a couple of hours this afternoon. Maybe the three of us could have dinner together before I head back tonight. I’d like that a lot...to have some time with my girls. Maybe you and I could have a few minutes to talk...”

  She’d had so much fun dating Bruce. He’d do things just like this, surprising her with a plan out of the blue, and every single time she’d loved it. They’d enjoyed each other’s company. He liked to have fun and had a way of helping others enjoy themselves, too.

  They weren’t dating anymore. Harper wasn’t one of his “girls.” Brianna was with Miriam, and taking her away from the older woman would be like putting gasoline on a fire. Telling Bruce no wasn’t a great idea, either, for so many reasons.

  He didn’t like to have his surprises falter; he didn’t cope well when his plans were thwarted. Try to do something nice for someone and... She’d heard that more than once during her year of marriage.

  And even though he didn’t know she knew he was without Miriam at the moment, he probably figured that his brother suspected him of abusing their grandmother.

  And if he did know how much she knew...he was playing a very dangerous game with her.

  Something Undercover Bruce might do.

  So what was his endgame? To get to Miriam? To convince Harper that he hadn’t hurt his grandmother? Press her for information?

  “Harper?” He was waiting for her response. “I’m about a mile from the part of town where you said you work. Give me an exact address and I’ll meet you outside.”

  “I’m...actually...not there right now,” she said, heart pounding again as she lied to him. She was about to invent some kind of professional meeting, until she realized that he’d want her to have someone bring Brianna out to him.

  Not that she was going to give him the address of the Stand.

  With his police resources, he probably already knew it. She’d assumed that years ago, although he’d never attempted a visit before. As far as she knew he never came to Santa Raquel at all.

  “Give me a second and I’ll see what I can arrange,” she told him. “I’ll call you right back.” She wasn’t handing Brianna over to him. Not without backup. And not without Mason’s knowledge.

  She still wasn’t sure she should risk taking the little girl away from Miriam. It wasn’t like she was going to tell Miriam that Bruce was there.

  She wasn’t afraid for herself. She could handle whatever came her way in the danger department. But the case wasn’t hers, which meant the right to make the decision wasn’t hers, either.

  Hanging up, she called Mason and prayed that he’d answer.

  * * *

  IN THE MIDDLE of a conversation with a friend of Miriam’s, Mason felt his phone vibrate against his thigh. When he saw the caller’s name, he excused himself from her living room and stepped outside. Five minutes later, after a second quick call, he’d said his goodbyes to Miriam’s friend and was in his car, calling Harper back.

  He’d asked her to stay put. To give him five. He hoped to God she had.

  And breathed a sigh of relief when she answered immediately.

  “Go ahead and call him back,” he instructed her. “Arrange a meeting someplace away from the Stand. Tell him you’ll bring Brianna to him.”

  “You want me to meet him?” She sounded incredulous.

  “Of course not. I just want you to tell him you will. If he suspects you’re helping me, he’s going to do what he can to get to you—mentally if nothing else. If these were normal circumstances, you’d do what you could to accommodate him, which is why I’m asking you to call him back and say you’ll meet him.”

  He had more to say. But he needed her to make that call first.

  “I’m on my way to Santa Raquel now,” he said. “I’ll talk to you when I get there.”

  “You’re coming back? I hardly think this is worth another trip down. I’m a cop, Mason, and I’m living in a town with a top-notch police department. We can keep Miriam safe. I just didn’t know how you wanted me to play it. If I want Bruce to think everything’s normal, I’d take Brie to him. But then I’d have to go get her from Miriam right after I agreed to let Miriam have her every afternoon. I’m sure you don’t want me telling her that Bruce is in town. And then we have to consider that if Brianna does see her father this afternoon, she’s going to mention it to Miriam tomorrow. And will tell Bruce that her grandma is staying at mommy’s work.”

  “Bruce is going to be getting a summons from O’Brien in another ten minutes or so, calling him back to work. Which is why I wanted you to call Bruce now. You won’t have to see him, but it’ll look like you were willing to.”

  “I still don’t get why you’re coming here, but I’ll call him now.”

  Mason wasn’t going to relax until he knew his brother was in Albina. And probably not even then. But he took an easier breath at Harper’s compliance. He liked the idea that they were on the same team, working side by side.

  Maybe he liked it a bit too much.

  * * *

  HE GOT A room at a cheap Santa Raquel inland motel, dropped the satchel that was always packed in his trunk inside the door of the room and, back in his SUV, called Harper. He felt better just being there in town. Knowing that Bruce had been in Santa Raquel, while Mason was almost two hours away, had not sat well with him.

  She’d texted half an hour before to say that, as expected, Bruce had called to cancel his time with Brianna due to being needed at work. Mason was still waiting for confirmation from O’Brien that his brother was, indeed, back in town.

  It was part of the deal they’d made. The captain would keep an eye on Bruce, and Mason would find out what the hell was going on. O’Brien’s plan was that Mason get some counseling for his grandmother and convince her to talk to them. He wanted to know who’d hurt her, to take action against that person, first and foremost. But the administrator also wanted to know that one of his top officers was in the clear. Albina PD relied heavily on Bruce’s expertise in the field.

  Miriam was talking to them. And Mason was beginning to realize that his grandmother truly believed what she was saying. He just had to figure out why. Why she was saying it. Why she believed it, even when faced wit
h radiology film that clearly showed something different, and medical opinion that said the bruises on Miriam’s chin could not have come from a fall. Miriam had been shown the films, had heard the doctor’s assessment. They’d asked her to tell them the truth. Unless her chin had hit something that had bruised both sides of it, there was no way she’d hurt herself falling off a stepladder. He’d found nothing in the kitchen to prove otherwise. Someone had grabbed her chin hard enough to bruise her.

  And had broken her arm, too. More than once.

  Harper picked up on the third ring. She was already at home with Brianna but would be leaving soon to take the little girl to her beginners’ dance class. It was the first Mason had heard that his niece was taking dance. A tug at his gut, and the moment was gone. Like so many others over the past four years.

  “Can we meet afterward?” he asked, an investigator on duty needing to interrogate his key witness further.

  And a man who wanted to see an old friend who could very well be under the manipulative influence of the brother he loved—and distrusted. Some of the things he’d heard that day...

  His suspicions hadn’t been laid to rest. Still, he could recite facts to refute them, too.

  He wasn’t forming any more judgments yet. But he felt this compelling need to speak with Harper. Spend a little more time with her. It was the only way to get a feel for what might or might not be going on between her and Bruce. Mason knew she wasn’t out to deliberately trick him; that much was clear. The fact that she’d called when Bruce showed up in town was proof enough of that—not that he’d really needed proof. Some things you just had to take on instinct.

  “It’s Brie’s bath and bedtime by then, and I don’t want to call a sitter again tonight. I need to keep to our routine as much as possible. She jabbers about her day, her life, anything that pops into her head when we go about our normal day. I can’t miss that. Particularly while she’s spending time with Miriam.”