Shielding the Suspect

by C. J. Miller

  She’d sensed the tension between Justin and Brady right away and had chalked it up to good-natured competition on the football field. It was only later, after her relationship with Brady was over and she’d been dating Justin, that Justin had explained he’d known Brady from their time in the military. They’d been in basic training together though their careers had taken different paths. Much to his father’s disappointment, Justin had left the air force after a couple of years, preferring work as an accountant, and Brady had remained in the service.

  Susan had loved watching Brady play football. Her camera captured him in action as he ran down the field, the look on his face when he caught the ball and his intensity immediately before a big play. She’d planned to take a few of the best shots and arrange them in a photo frame as a gift for his mother. With the holidays coming up, she and Brady had been talking about their plans and Susan had been hoping for an invitation to his parents’ house for Christmas.

  Susan had never gotten the opportunity to edit and print the photos for Brady’s mother. Without Brady in her life, it had been one of the loneliest Christmases she could recall.

  Brady had meant more to her than she had to him. She had been tied in from her soul. Brady had his own way of connecting and yet keeping her at arm’s length. The only way she knew how to move on was to forget what she could and leave the past behind.

  They’d been on unequal emotional footing. If she was going to survive this, she had to be as cold and detached as he was. She was too tired to think of alternative places to stay, but tomorrow, when she was fresh, she would relocate. “Thank you again for helping me. I’ll find another place tomorrow.”

  “You can stay as long as you need to, darlin’. I’m not rushing you out. I want to keep you safe.”

  Darlin’. A casual endearment he’d used a thousand times in the past. The urge to lean closer and rest her head on his shoulder nearly overpowered her. She could let Brady take the reins and make decisions and figure out what had happened to Justin. But that wouldn’t be safe for her heart. It wouldn’t end well. It couldn’t. She would too easily give him her trust and her heart, and he would leave her again with more questions and more anger.

  Susan closed her eyes and sealed off her heart from the barrage of memories and emotions that swirled inside her. Worrying about Brady should fall dead last on her list. She was emotionally debilitated by the events of the week. With a little sleep and time to think, she’d stop picturing Brady taking control, stop imagining Brady as her lover and shut down those worthless feelings for good.

  “I have some charcoal and paper if you need it.”

  Her eyes popped open at the sound of Brady’s voice. The melodic quality spoke to her, made her feel hot and tingly. Why hadn’t she put those sensuous feelings to rest long ago? He’d walked away from her. She’d reached out to him in the hospital when he might have needed a friend, and he’d rejected her. No explanations, no apologies. Her suspicions rose. “Why do you have charcoal?”

  “You made it look easy when you drew. You swore it was therapeutic. When the shrink at the hospital insisted I give a new hobby a shot, I tried drawing.”

  Brady had tried drawing with charcoal? He’d never expressed interest in art before. “I’m surprised you gave it a chance. Did you like it?”

  “I couldn’t draw anything. I tried. You create beautiful pictures and make it look effortless. Most of my attempts looked like scribbles and smudges a blindfolded preschooler would draw.”

  Despite the heaviness of her heart, she laughed. It was a laugh she needed and some of the tension released in her chest. “You need time to work with them,” she said. “Art doesn’t come quickly to everyone. Maybe you’d do better with a different medium. Like photography.” She touched the owl necklace at her neck, combination jewelry and storage device where she kept pictures she cherished. Though photography had been a hobby since her teens, she’d gotten more serious with it when she’d been dating Brady. He’d been an amazing subject. “We offer introductory classes at the gallery.”

  “I don’t think I was cut out for artwork,” Brady said. “A hobby that frustrates me isn’t what the shrink has in mind.”

  It was the second time he’d mentioned the therapist and it startled her. Brady was normally closed off about anything that affected him emotionally. She’d suspected his physical injuries had a deeper impact on him. To what degree was he coping? Losing his position with the pararescuemen had to have devastated him. His career had meant a great deal to him. He’d put it before everything else. Including her.

  “Why the mighty frown?” he asked.

  Susan needed to better censor her facial expressions. Especially around Brady. A natural observer, he watched the world around him and was excellent at deciphering thoughts and feelings from a look, a movement or a hand motion. Despite his outgoing and high-energy nature, when he wanted to relax, he could sit for hours and observe. They had done that together some days. She with her sketch pad in her lap, using what she saw for inspiration and Brady with his arm around her. She slammed closed the door on those memories. They were too painful to revisit now.

  “Just thinking.” She had enough problems in her life. She didn’t need to give specifics.

  “We’ll work this out.”

  He sounded sure of himself and that was classic Brady. Determined when he set his mind to it. But if solving the case were that easy, the police would have done so by now. Granted, from the beginning the lead investigator had seemed bent on blaming her.

  “The police haven’t come up with anything and all that’s keeping me out of jail is that Justin’s body hasn’t been found.” Sadness bit into her. Justin deserved a proper burial to bring closure to his family and the people who’d loved him.

  A muscle flexed in Brady’s jaw. “The killer probably disposed of the body in the water. It would be difficult to carry it down the pier without being seen.”

  “The police divers haven’t found anything yet. They’re waiting for a body to wash up on shore,” Susan said. The image of Justin’s body floating in the water made her sick.

  “The detective in charge of the case is eager to wrap up the investigation and please the mayor and Justin’s father. He’s looking for a promotion. He’s taking the most likely suspect and the most likely scenario and swallowing it as fact,” Brady said.

  Susan had gotten the same impression from the police, that they either hadn’t found other suspects or hadn’t considered them. “I don’t know what other options they have.”

  “They can do better. Since it’s unlikely they will, it’s up to us. You were at the scene. You know what happened. You can remember.”

  She whirled on him. “I can’t, Brady. If you think I’m lying about remembering, you can let me out of the truck now. If I knew what happened, I would tell you. For that matter, I would have told the police. That night is a black box. I feel terrible about it. I feel terrible knowing Justin died and I was in the room. I didn’t do anything to stop it. I haven’t been useful in helping the police find his killer. I haven’t remembered anything important. I don’t know what happened that night.”

  Susan let out her breath in a rush. His questions called to mind her doubts about her involvement. She couldn’t imagine a scenario where she would physically assault Justin, but the few scraps of evidence pointed to her. Which is why she hadn’t told the police that she had broken up with Justin. It would only make her look guiltier. She’d realized she’d never been in love with him, and pretending and lying to herself was a mistake. Starting a relationship with Justin when her heart was broken over Brady hadn’t worked. Susan should have ended the relationship before it escalated into a marriage proposal. Her track record with men was pathetic.

  First Brady, then Justin. When it came to love, she made terrible decisions. “I don’t know what happened,” she repeated.


  “Whoa, whoa,” Brady said, holding up his palm. “I wasn’t accusing you. I know you can’t remember. Harris thinks given the right conditions and enough time you might. I wasn’t implying you were lying.”

  Susan ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve tried a thousand times to remember what happened. I’ve gone over and over that night and tried to figure out where it went wrong.” She had been on the boat at Justin’s invitation. She’d regretted visiting the boat and wondered if under different circumstances Justin would still be alive. What if she hadn’t ended their engagement, and instead they had been out that night at a movie? What if they had decided to stay in and have dinner at her place?

  “Maybe the problem is that you’re trying too hard. Putting too much pressure on yourself,” Brady said.

  Relaxing wouldn’t come easily. Brady had an infuriating way of simplifying matters. “Maybe I should take a few days at the spa and see if anything comes to mind.” Her fingernails bit into her hand. “Oh, wait. Everywhere I go, people look at me as if I’m a pariah, so that wouldn’t be fun. I don’t have any money or any clothes and they frown on that at the spa.”

  Her voice was reaching near shrieking. The shaking in her hands gave away how upset she was getting. She went quiet and took several long, deep breaths. Since Justin had died, she’d been teetering on the edge of losing her composure a dozen times a day.

  “Feel better?” Brady asked.

  “No,” she said, snapping at him.

  “Why didn’t you call me when you knew you were in trouble?” Brady asked.

  The question was ridiculous. Brady didn’t want her in his life. He only wanted her around now to help Reilly. “And say what?”

  “That you needed help. I would have come.”

  When Brady had rejected her again at the hospital, she’d written him out of her life permanently. She’d worked up a lot of courage to visit him. He’d shot down her attempts at civility and friendship.

  “I don’t think of you as part of my life anymore.” As a friend. Or as anyone she could count on.

  Brady didn’t respond. She could read his reaction. He was hurt. “Brady—” She hadn’t been trying to throw verbal daggers at him.

  He shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t deserve your friendship.”

  He turned his truck off the road onto a dirt path.

  Susan didn’t have the emotional energy to talk about their crippled relationship. “Where are we going?” she asked, not recognizing the location.

  “My place. I moved.”

  Trees lined both sides of the winding dirt path. No streets signs were posted along the road. The divots in the road made the truck bounce and Brady navigated to avoid downed tree branches. It was not a welcoming place; in fact, it was borderline foreboding. Why had Brady chosen to live here?

  The truck’s headlights illuminated a small cabin at the end of the dirt road. No other lights brightened the area.

  “This is where you live?” she asked. She didn’t see neighbors or other cars.

  “For now.”

  “Alone?” she asked.

  “My landlord has a place farther down the road.”

  Susan squinted into the dark. What road? Choosing to live here was a deliberate way of separating himself from the world.

  She didn’t comment further. As isolated as it was, it was a step up from the trailer park where her mother lived. At least here, she’d be with someone who could protect her if Justin’s murderer made another attempt on her life.

  They climbed out of the car and Brady circled to her side. The man had presence, and Susan was aware of how close he stood even though she couldn’t see him in the dark. He radiated dominance and strength.

  Brady set his hand on her lower back and she shivered. Touching was not a good idea, but Susan couldn’t see where they were and allowed the contact.

  Brady escorted her to the front door, opened it and turned on a light. She was greeted by a tiny, dark space, with mismatched furniture, clothing and other items in general disarray. This wasn’t like him. Military life, with its rules and organization, had suited him.

  What had happened to him? What had happened to her? They had once been happy, in love and with high hopes for the future. Brady had once shown up at the police station to surprise her, tracking her down through Reilly and Haley. Susan had been working with victims on a particularly tough case and he’d been patient and supportive, bringing carryout Chinese food for everyone involved in the case and waiting for her to finish her sketches of the suspects. The case had been a disturbing one and she had been grateful to have Brady with her that night.

  He had been her best friend and he’d walked out of her life. The memory of the past and the events of the night came booming down on her. A sob caught in her throat.

  “Hey, darlin’, everything is fine.” Brady came behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  He read her emotions even when she tried to suppress them. They’d had a finger-snap close connection from the moment they’d met. Brady could be across a crowded room and with one look, know what she was thinking. That connection had been too much too fast and had burned out. Nothing that hot and intense could burn indefinitely.

  Brady’s fingers rubbed her shoulders, unknotting the tension that had been building since she had woken up on Justin’s boat with his blood on her hands. Brady’s comforting gesture sent pulses of heat over her skin, across her body, pooling in her chest. Her body remembered, and reacted to, his touch. To this day, making love with Brady had been the most amazing intimate experience of her life. The closeness and tenderness she’d shared with him couldn’t be replicated with someone else. She knew. She’d tried, pretended and failed.

  Guilt assailed her for having those thoughts. Shouldn’t she be focused on her grief for Justin, not her anger and unresolved feelings for Brady? Though her romantic feelings for Justin had been gone for some time, he’d been an important part of her life. He deserved respect and remembrance.

  The urge to turn and bury her face against Brady was overwhelming. When he took her in his arms, he made her feel better. Treasured. Loved. Even if it was a charade, it was one he played well. She had believed it and believed him. To reach out and try to reclaim that small bit of happiness was tempting. To press against him, to kiss him, to run her hands over his strong body. The way they’d moved together, made love together and danced together had been in complete harmony. Was it wrong to want a few minutes of relief from the constant ache in her chest?

  She battled her wild emotions, beating them back with a vengeance. It would be wrong to give in to her urges. Susan couldn’t protect her heart if she let Brady hold her. Fool her twice, shame on her. Susan shrugged away his hands. She wouldn’t let herself fall for this again. Her life was chaotic enough.

  “You can’t say everything will be fine. You don’t know how bad it is. I don’t understand why this is happening to me and you can’t possibly explain it.”

  Brady turned her to face him, but didn’t let his hands linger on her. “That’s true. I don’t have any idea what you’ve been through since Justin died.” Was it her imagination or did his voice catch over Justin’s name?

  His eyes drilled into hers. “You and Reilly are good people who got caught in something bad. I think Justin might have had a side he kept secret from you.”

  Justin and Brady didn’t get along and they never had. They tolerated each other and they’d been cordial. Even so, accusing Justin of being two-faced struck her as wrong. She wanted to remember the good things about Justin, not harp on his negative traits.

  “Justin was a good man. What do you think Justin hid from me?” She’d force Brady to back up his words.

  “I’m sure he didn’t tell you everything about his life.”

  “Perhaps, but he didn’t go out of his w
ay to hide anything either,” Susan said.

  “He told you why he left the military?” Brady asked in a tone that peeved her.

  Justin had talked about his time in the military. “He didn’t like it. It wasn’t for him,” Susan said. “Not everyone enjoys risking their life for the adrenaline high.” She didn’t add that Justin’s father being a high-ranking officer in the air force had set expectations on Justin that had been difficult for him to achieve.

  “Okay,” Brady said, his expression blank.

  Anger incensed her. What was he not telling her? “‘Okay?’ What does ‘okay’ mean?”

  Brady crossed his arms over his chest. “It means I don’t think he told you everything.”

  “If you know something, tell me.” A demand. She was in no mood to coax the information from him.

  Brady ran a hand through his hair and waited a few moments before answering. “Justin didn’t voluntarily leave the air force. He was kicked out. His dad pulled strings to keep him from being dishonorably discharged and preventing his offenses from being made public. It was more than him not liking the lifestyle. It was him not liking to follow rules.”

  Susan narrowed her eyes. “His offenses? And what rules?”

  “Word got around base that Justin and a few others had trouble keeping their hands out of the company till. They were accepting kickbacks from vendors who supplied the base’s convenience stores with food and drinks.”

  Justin had never mentioned anything about it to her. “I can’t believe he would do that. Especially with who his father is.”

  Brady snorted. “I think his father is why he did it. Justin didn’t like that his father was in charge of enforcing the rules. Tim Ambrose doesn’t let anyone forget he’s in charge and he likes to be in control. Justin bucked the system when he could.”