Finding Peace: Baytown Boys

by Maryann Jordan

  At that, Brogan growled, stepping forward, his fist at the ready. Laughing, Aiden danced back from the bar, now safely out of reach.

  “Sorry, Bro. I just had to get that in there to see what your reaction would be.”

  “You fuckin’ prick,” Brogan bit out, his eyes narrowed, irritated that Aiden got a rise out of him. “You keep your eyes to yourself when she’s around.”

  Still laughing, Aiden nodded. “Honestly, I think of her like a sister.” Seeing Brogan’s dubious expression, he admitted, “Okay, a really pretty sister that I think is perfect for your ugly, old, grumpy ass.” Staring at Brogan for a moment, catching a slight change in his expression, Aiden remarked, “Wait. You don’t think you’re good enough for her. Man, that’s fucked.”

  Brogan said nothing, his hands now resting on the bar, his head hanging. Aiden was right—that was exactly what he thought. Sighing, he lifted his head, pinning his brother with his stare. “She’s college educated…I’m just a former jarhead, bartender. She’s gorgeous…I’m a big lug, known for my brawn, sure as hell not my sparkling personality. Hell, I cut my hair, thinking that it might make me more presentable to a cop, but now I look in the mirror and feel stupid seeing my whole face.”

  “Look, man, all I know is that you’re a good brother, good Marine, good friend, good businessman, and a helluva man. You are good enough for anyone you want, but especially that nice cop you’re sweet on. You’ve got issues you need to work on, but she’d be a lucky woman to have you around.”

  Shaking his head, not believing Aiden’s words, he said, “Don’t know about any of that, but I did ask her out. Last night.”

  Aiden blew out his breath in a rush, as though hit in the gut. “Oh, man. I’m sorry. I can’t believe she turned you down.”

  At that, Brogan’s gaze jumped back to Aiden’s. “You’ve got it wrong. She said yes.”

  Aiden stared at him for a moment, his smile growing wider by the second until Brogan was sure his brother’s face was going to split. Unable to keep his lips from curling at the same time, the two brothers simply stared, both feeling the weight of the moment.

  Slapping his hand on the bar once more, Aiden said, “Well, all right. Then let’s get back to work, asshole.”

  Walking past, Brogan cuffed Aiden on the back of the head. “No cussing in the bar. We’re gonna have fuckin’ customers soon.”

  8

  The call came in as Ginny was on night patrol. 10-14. Possible prowler.

  Hearing the address, Ginny knew she was not dealing with Helen Collins this time. Only a few blocks away, she hurried to the scene, acknowledging her location when she arrived. Her sharp gaze searched the area, observing no movement in the neighborhood but knowing the darkness of night offered many hidden locations where someone could be watching.

  Seeing the lights on at the residence, she quickly moved to the front porch. She looked back as headlights turned onto the street and a car stopped behind her SUV. Grant stepped from the driver’s seat and headed her way. As the officer on call for the evening, he would be her backup.

  Nodding to him, he had just arrived at the door when it opened. Celia Ring. The mayor’s secretary. Smiling, Ginny introduced herself and Grant as they stepped inside.

  “I know who you are,” Celia said, wrapping her silky robe tighter around her body, tying the belt about her waist. Her eyes darted around and she urged, “Shut the door! He might still be out there.”

  Grant complied and motioned, “Let’s have a seat and you can tell us what you saw.” Ginny led the way as Celia stood in the hallway, seemingly unable to move. Finally following, the three sat in the living room, the blinds closed to the outside world.

  Ginny watched Celia’s behavior closely, uncertain what to expect. Celia had a reputation in town—an oversexed flirt, a woman on the prowl, and she had even been rumored to not care if a man was married. Ginny immediately stifled a flinch, knowing she needed to maintain professionalism.

  “Ms. Ring, can you tell us what you saw?”

  Swallowing, Celia licked her lips before sucking them in. “I had been out…uh…on a date this…uh, last evening.” Bringing her shaky hand up to her face, she wiped her brow. “Shit, I can’t seem to get it straight.”

  “Ma’am,” Grant said, “why don’t you just start at the beginning. Sometimes that helps.”

  Nodding in jerks, Celia said, “Sure. Yes.” Clearing her throat, she began again, “I had a date last night. We went out for drinks and then, uh…drove around some.” Her pale face was suddenly painted with bright blush stains on her cheeks, as she looked down at her hands. “I got back home sometime after midnight and went upstairs to get ready for bed. I showered, put on my gown, and then came back downstairs. I always double check my locks before turning in for the night.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ginny prodded for Celia to continue.

  “That’s when I saw him,” Celia stated, voice quivering. “Right there,” she pointed to the living room window at the side of the house.

  “Him?”

  “A face…at the corner of the window. It was partially covered with his hands as he peeked in. But he was staring straight at me.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Do?” Celia’s voice raised. “I screamed and ran toward the kitchen to get away from his face!”

  “Okay, okay,” Ginny said gently as she nodded encouragingly. “You did the right thing by getting to a safe place and calling us.”

  Celia’s breath left her lungs in a long sigh. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Did you drive back by yourself or did your date bring you home?” Grant asked.

  “Myself,” Celia replied quickly.

  “And who were you out with?” Ginny asked.

  Celia blinked, her pale face reddening. “Uh…that’s private. It’s not pertinent, I assure you.”

  “It would help to corroborate the time you were home—”

  “No,” she refused vehemently. “I’m sure it was around midnight,”

  “Okay…can you describe the person you saw at the window?” Grant asked. “You said he. What did you see exactly?”

  Her brow drawn down, Celia said, “Uh…it was so fast. It was…I don’t know…a face!”

  “Pale or dark? Glasses? Mustache?” Ginny prompted.

  “Oh…uh…no glasses. No beard. Caucasian. Um…” her eyes turned imploringly toward Ginny. “That’s it. That’s all I remember.”

  “You’re doing great, Ms. Ring,” she said. “I’m going to have Officer Grant go outside and check the window area. You and I will go into the kitchen for a few minutes and I’ll make some tea.”

  Leading Celia out of the room, she and Grant passed a knowing look between them. Watching Grant go out the front door, she turned back to the shaken woman.

  Rubbing her tired eyes, Ginny gratefully accepted the cup of coffee from Mildred. The others soon filed into the room and Mitch eyed her carefully.

  “You okay?”

  Unsure if he meant about her surreptitiously leaving the AL meeting the night before, dealing with Celia Ring, or sitting at a meeting after pulling an all-night shift, she decided to go with the simplest answer. “I’m fine.”

  He stared for a moment and just as she was about to retort, he sat down and opened the report she had written along with the evidence from Grant.

  “You’ve all had a chance to check out what Ginny and Grant were dealing with last night. Ginny, impressions to go along with your facts?”

  “Celia was shaken. Her description was articulate, once prodded, although we aren’t sure about the time. I checked her doors and windows—all were locked. She normally leaves her downstairs blinds up but said they will be down in the future.”

  Sam leaned back and peered at her over his glasses. “Do you think someone like her is believable?”

  Jerking her head around, Ginny tilted her head. “Excuse me?”

  “Did you find her believable? Let’s face it, Celia’s got a
reputation in town.”

  “Reputation?” Ginny’s voice rose. She knew the rumors, but could not believe her fellow officer’s line of inquiry.

  “She’s an attention-seeking, man-hunting, doesn’t care who she steps on kind of woman. Hell, Mayor Banks’ wife keeps him on a short leash since he hired her,” Sam said.

  Seeing red, Ginny leaned forward in her chair. “I can’t believe you said that.” Her voice calm, but cold, she continued, “Her reputation is irrelevant here.”

  Mitch stepped in, his hands raised. “Ginny’s right, but we do have to look at the evidence. Grant found no indication of someone’s boots, but he did say the ground was disturbed and that could have been from someone covering their tracks. There were no finger or palm prints on the window, but Celia reported his hands were dark, which would indicate gloves.”

  Ginny sat in her chair, her body strung tight as a bow.

  Sam and Burt exchanged a look, before Sam apologized. “Ginny, I’m sorry. That came out all wrong. I’ve got a wife and a daughter and the thought of someone peeking in at them makes my blood boil.” Sighing, he added, “But I know Celia Ring can seek attention if she doesn’t think she’s getting any…I just wondered, that’s all.”

  Forcing her breathing to slow, Ginny nodded. “Apology accepted.” Sucking in a deep breath, she clarified, “I know her reputation. I know her refusal to tell us who she was out with last night is a possible indication that he was married and she doesn’t want us to know. But…” she pinned them all with her hard stare, “she is still a victim who reported a crime and deserves our utmost service.”

  “Abso-fuckin-lutely right,” Grant said, earning a slight smile from Ginny.

  Mitch nodded and they continued with the evidence gathered. A few minutes later, the sound of Mildred’s voice carried through to the workroom.

  “I’ll announce you and Chief Evans can see you when—”

  “I’ll be seen right now!”

  The officers shared a grimace at the sound of the mayor’s voice. Within a few seconds, he came blustering into their room.

  “I get a call from my secretary at the ass-crack of dawn this morning and let me tell you, my wife does not like that. So, I’ve got a hysterical secretary and a pissed-off wife. Neither of which makes my life any easier!”

  “Mayor—” Mitch began.

  “Don’t give me any excuses. Celia tells me we got a peeping tom in town and I want him gone! I can’t have any reason for our vacation visitors to pull outta here. So find him and find him now!”

  With that, Corwin stalked out of the police station, leaving Mitch and his officers shaking their heads.

  After another few minutes of discussion, Mitch said, “Sam, I want you on patrol and keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary…more than usual. Grant, you and Burt go back to Celia’s house and search for more evidence in the light of day. Ginny, go home, get some sleep, and report back tomorrow.”

  Stepping out into the sunshine, Ginny walked to her car. Placing her hand on the doorframe, she hung her head in fatigue for a moment, allowing the warmth of the sun to settle onto her back.

  Hearing her name, she looked up at Grant walking toward her.

  The two stood silently observing each other for a moment before he finally spoke. “Look, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that something happened to you. Something not good. And something you need to deal with, ‘cause you’re carrying it around inside.”

  Opening her mouth to speak, she closed it quickly, no words coming. Not even the ready denial.

  “All I’m saying,” he continued, “is that you tell the rest of us to get help with our problems, whether from the war or something else. I’m telling you, that you need to take your own advice, and not just occasionally.”

  With a curt nod, she turned to open her car door, but his next words stopped her in her tracks.

  “Without sounding like we’re in fuckin’ middle school, I can tell Brogan likes you and you like him. I know he’s got some demons and hell, girl, so do you. But for anything to work in a relationship, you need to work on yours. At least think about it.”

  Climbing into her car, Ginny drove the short distance home, Grant’s words ringing in her ears. I do like Brogan. But how do I trust…

  Once inside, she kicked off her boots before walking into her kitchen and making a cup of herbal tea. As it steeped, she looked at the Eastern Shore Mental Health card stuck to her refrigerator. Pulling out her phone, she placed a call.

  Date night. When was the last time I went on a date?

  Ginny hung her head as she stood in her bathroom, staring at her underwear clad body in the mirror. Plain-Jane panties and a plain, white bra. No lace. No satin. Comfortable cotton. Fuck it…he’s not going to see the underwear anyway!

  Taking the green, wrap-dress from the hangar, she slipped on the jersey material, tying the sash around her waist. With a dab of blush and swipe of mascara as her only make-up, she stood back again, perusing her appearance. For once, her hair was down, the ends swinging just below her shoulders. After a sweep of her body, her gaze landed back on her eyes in the reflection. Maybe a little more for the eyes.

  Adding some soft eyeshadow and liner, she assessed her face again. Satisfied, she squared her shoulders, and said, “You got this.” As she turned to walk back into her bedroom, she hoped the words were true.

  Brogan stood on Ginny’s front porch, his heart racing and palms sweating. Fighting the urge to run back down the walk, the desire to see her outweighed any of his inhibitions. Before he had a chance to ponder what he was doing any more, the door swung open. Holy shit. He stared a second, his jaw tight with nerves, before his gaze caressed her appearance.

  Her dark hair, normally in a regulation bun, was flowing just over her shoulders. Her fresh face sported a hint more makeup than usual, making her hazel eyes appear larger and even more expressive. A slash of color on her lips made him want to taste them, but licking his own was all he managed to do.

  Wearing a deep green dress that wrapped around her waist, showcased her athletic figure to perfection, including the legs that he rarely got to see. And on her feet, she wore heels, still only bringing her eyes to his chin.

  As he was staring, Ginny drank him in. His hair still neatly shorn matched his neatly trimmed beard. His blue eyes, always somewhat stormy, were now bright. His lips, moist where he licked them, beckoned her and she forced her feet to stay in place or she knew she would have leaned in to taste him.

  His broad shoulders pulled tightly at the light-blue dress shirt he wore. Tucked into dark pants, he looked every bit the successful businessman he was. And yet, she noted the uncomfortable way he tugged at his collar.

  “Ready?” he asked, cocking his elbow out for her to take.

  Smiling, she locked her door and placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Hungry?”

  “Oh, yeah. I worked a night shift and have been fitfully sleeping today. So, I’m ready to eat.”

  Nodding in approval, he moved to the door of his old truck, wincing at the creak as it opened. Wishing he had a better mode of transportation, he was glad he had at least cleaned the inside. Assisting her up into the cab of his truck, he attempted not to stare at her legs as her dress slid up her thighs. Sucking in a deep breath to keep his blood from leaving his brain and rushing to his cock, he slammed the door harder than he meant.

  Ginny watched Brogan warily as he stomped around the front of his truck, his jaw hard and his eyes narrow. Wondering if she upset him, she smoothed her hands over the skirt of her dress, hoping to still her nerves.

  Watching out of the corner of her eye as he swung himself into the driver’s side, he still appeared irritated. Driving the short distance to the Sunset Restaurant near the Sunset Marina, she was surprised by his choice. The classy eatery was a very nice place for a date but did not seem to fit Brogan.

  Seeing the very full parking lot, Broga
n inwardly groaned. The restaurant was a popular place for sunset weddings and from the look of the crowd, that was what they had entered. The upstairs was always open for regular guests, but the chance to spend a quiet evening with Ginny just went up in flames.

  “They seem kind of crowded, don’t they?” she asked, leaning forward as she peered out the windshield.

  “I’ll bet it’s a wedding,” he explained, hoping to salvage the date. “But the upstairs is always open.”

  Assisting her down from the cab, he smiled as her light touch stayed on his arm. Opening the door, he ushered her in proudly then immediately stiffened as her back bounced against his chest. “What the he—”

  The crowd just inside the door kept Ginny from advancing, causing her to be pushed backward against Brogan’s hard body. Surprised, she quickly righted herself. She heard him growl and felt it reverberate through her body.

  Brogan realized the waiting list would be too long, especially since Ginny had said she was hungry. Closing his eyes for a second, he grimaced as he watched his perfectly planned dinner date go up in smoke.

  9

  Knowing the date was over before it began, Brogan inwardly cursed. A light touch on his arm jolted him out of his misery and he opened his eyes, seeing Ginny’s beautiful face turned up toward his.

  “Can we get out of here?” she asked.

  “Sure. I guess the date is kind of a failure,” he tried to joke. “I can take you home.”

  “Home? You’re taking me home?”

  “Uh…I thought that was what you meant?” he said, his brow lowered in confusion.

  “No,” she laughed. “But I’d like to be somewhere less noisy…somewhere we can have a conversation…and less stuffy.”

  Relief flooded through him as he heaved a sigh. Tucking her hand underneath his arm, he escorted her back to his truck, trying to come up with a backup plan. The Seafood Shack was good, but it would also be crowded and they would run into a lot of people they knew. Finn’s was out of the question. Other places would be perfect but take a while to get to. As he jumped into the driver’s side again, he observed her on her phone, her fingers flying over the keypad.