Shielding the Suspect

by C. J. Miller

  Brady opened his mouth to respond and then closed it. “You’re grieving. You’re hurting. I want to help. But this won’t make you feel better. You’ll be angry at yourself and at me later.”

  He was rejecting her? Humiliation and anger welled up inside her. “Fine, Brady. That’s fine. But do me a favor and stop telling me what I need. I think I’m in a better position to decide that than you are. You should worry about what you need and figuring out your life. Because looking around, I think you’ve got some demons to chase away, too.”

  Brady’s eyes flashed with anger. “What demons do I have, Susan? That I lost my job? That I don’t have anything worthwhile to contribute to anymore? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you just lost your job, too. How do you feel?”

  “I feel like I’ll get through this and I’ll find another job.” Somehow. Some way. “And it’s ridiculous to say you don’t have anything to contribute. You have lots to contribute. You’re helping me. You’re protecting me. If I stop thinking positive, where does that leave me? Homeless, jobless and alone. Forget that. I don’t accept that as my life.”

  Brady gestured to his knee. “I don’t have the option of thinking positive and pretending everything will be okay. This will prevent me from taking care of you the best way I know how. This ruined my career. This—” He stopped and took a deep breath. “This may be the reason I’m not good enough to keep us from getting killed.”

  Chapter 4

  Tension stretched between Brady and Susan on the drive to the marina. They hadn’t spoken much since their argument earlier in the day.

  Brady was the first to break the silence. “Do you remember what the weather was like the night Justin died?” Colorado winters could fluctuate from bitter cold with biting wind to surprisingly warm.

  Susan steered her thoughts away from her fight with Brady. She was going to Justin’s yacht to remember, and getting on that track was important. “It was warmer than usual, but breezy. I had taken off my sweater in the car after I left the gallery.”

  “Did you drive directly from the gallery to the yacht or did you make any stops?”

  Brady wanted to walk her through that night. She’d been over it many times. She went along with his questions, hoping one would jar a memory loose or Brady could help her look at the night from another angle. “I stopped to pick up take-out Chinese food. I was hungry and Justin didn’t always keep the boat stocked.”

  Ten minutes later, with Brady pressing her for every detail, Susan let her head fall against the headrest. “I remember a lot from earlier in the night. I had the receipt from the takeout restaurant in my handbag. The police took it as evidence. I imagine they found the cardboard containers and plasticware in the trash. Those memories are clear. And then, everything just stops.”

  “You can do this, Susan. Those memories are in your head. You can let them out.”

  Simple in theory, but proving impossible in application. “I’m trying, Brady. I really am. I’ve told you I’m trying to remember. We’ve been over this before.” What if her memories returned from that night and she realized she’d done something awful to Justin? What other reason did she have to block them?

  Brady was persistent. “Let’s look at this from another perspective. Did Justin have enemies? Enemies vicious enough to kill him, frame you and then try to murder you?”

  Susan swallowed hard. She had gone over and over Justin’s life looking for elements out of place, anything that would have tipped her off to Justin being involved in something criminal. “Do you want me to admit the truth? That I might not have known Justin as well as I thought I did? He never mentioned his troubles in the military to me, so what else did he keep from me?” Brady’s revelation about Justin’s life in the air force had shaken her confidence in how well she’d known Justin. She might not have been head-over-heels in love with him, but she’d trusted him.

  Brady nodded once, as if satisfied by her admission. “Harris said you were tested for drugs after the murder.”

  Susan nodded. “Yes. The ME took my blood and urine to check for drugs and alcohol.”

  “What did they find?” Brady asked.

  Disappointing results. “According to my court-appointed lawyer, nothing of note. I’d had a glass of wine that night, but it barely registered in my bloodstream.”

  Brady’s lips twisted in thought. “Tell me more about Justin.”

  “You knew him. He was Justin. He was safe. Calm. Rational. He didn’t get excited about things.” Things. Or her. She and Justin had never gotten to that can’t-live-without-you, obsessive, overly heated phase in their relationship. They’d never left a party early because they couldn’t wait to be alone. They’d never spent an entire day in bed together, blowing off responsibilities because they were too involved with each other to care about anything else.

  Nope, those experiences were exclusive to her relationship with Brady. She’d waited for them to happen with Justin and they never had. Susan had rationalized that she and Justin were different. They had been in a more mature place. Their relationship had staying power.

  After a while, it had started to feel as if something was missing. As if they were both settling because they were a good match on paper.

  “We were having problems,” she said. Guilt gushed through her. Should she talk about the negative parts of her relationship with Justin? It didn’t feel right.

  A long pause. Why had she said anything about her and Justin? Brady hadn’t asked about their relationship. He had asked about Justin. If anything, her and Justin’s fighting and problems gave her motivation to kill Justin. Her mother’s words haunted her. The police could spin their issues into something sinister and claim she and Justin had had an argument that had turned violent. Like the circumstances between her mother and father. The parallels between the two stories were disturbing.

  “What kind of problems?” Brady asked.

  Her insides clenched. She would have rather talked about the problems in Justin’s life, if she’d known what they were. If she had been a better friend to Justin, would he have confided in her if he’d been worried about something or someone? “We were arguing a lot. We weren’t spending time together as often.” When they had been together, they’d fought, sometimes about pointless things. “He wanted me to set a date for the wedding and I wasn’t sure when I wanted to get married.”

  “You’ve always wanted to be married,” Brady said, his voice carefully neutral.

  Yes. She had wanted to get married. To Brady. When they were dating, she hadn’t pretended otherwise. But life wasn’t a game of musical bachelors. If one man didn’t fit, she couldn’t plug in another man and have the same desires and hopes for the future. It was a lesson she’d had to learn. A hard lesson.

  “To the right man. Not just to anyone.”

  She could almost hear Brady grinding his teeth. What had him on edge? Talking about Justin? A former lover’s pointless jealousy? Was he remembering the time they’d fought about their future together? Susan had brought up the topic of marriage with Brady and he’d seemed distant. The more distant he’d become, the more marrying him had played on her mind. She’d mentioned it more often. Had that driven him away?

  “Is that why you left? Did it bother you that I wanted you to propose?” No point in being coy about it. She’d made her intentions clear then; why not address it now?

  Brady glanced at her before answering. “It bothered me, but it wasn’t why I left. I knew as long as I was a parajumper, I couldn’t be married.”

  “I would have waited,” Susan said, the words springing to her lips before she could stop them. They left her vulnerable to another rejection.

  “I’m sure you would have. That doesn’t explain why you made Justin wait,” Brady said, turning the conversation on a dime.

  “I wasn’t sure I wanted to marry him,” Sus
an said.

  “Then why did you say yes when he asked?”

  Susan swallowed the knee-jerk reaction to defend herself and worked to keep her voice calm. “Justin provided stability. He wanted to have children. He had a house and a good job. He got busy around tax time, but for the most part, he came home for dinner.” A checklist. He’d satisfied a checklist she had created.

  “Sounds like everything you want.” No sarcasm, only a touch of pity.

  “It takes more than a list of qualities to make a relationship work.” Again, a lesson she had learned the hard way. Her relationship with Brady had had some indefinable quality to it; the chemistry and the connection had been strong. She hadn’t had those things with Justin.

  Brady glanced at her and she read sympathy in his eyes. Or was it sadness for her? How did he feel about her dating someone else? She was sure he had dated other women since they’d broken up. How could a man like him not find willing, attractive women circling?

  “Reilly told me when you got engaged,” Brady said. “I was overseas at the time.”

  That news surprised her. When Brady had walked out on her, she’d assumed he’d want no part of her and his family would have sensed and respected that.

  “Why would he tell you?”

  Brady rolled his shoulders. “He knew I cared about you and would want to know. I thought about sending flowers to congratulate you, but decided it would send a mixed message.”

  Her heart beat stronger, faster. He’d known. Known and done nothing. Wasn’t that a clear sign he was finished with their relationship?

  “And what mixed message was that?”

  “That congratulations was mixed with a desire to be part of your life again.”

  A few words could annihilate her. Was she that sensitive to him after so much time had passed? “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” He’d rapidly become the leading man—the only man—in her life.

  “No.” The word was said with finality and a heavy thud.

  Frustration and resentment leaked from every pore. Brady was like this, closed off, unavailable, and yet she’d started thinking he’d changed. A smidgen.

  She didn’t trust herself to speak without letting her voice break. Susan grabbed the radio dial and turned it on. She changed from his preprogrammed station to a country music station.

  She didn’t want to talk anymore. If one more word passed her lips, the facade she’d built would crack and she would break down into tears.

  * * *

  Brady wanted Susan to move on with her life and have the things he couldn’t give her. A home. A family. A husband who was with her day in and day out and who was worthy of a woman like her.

  A few months after they’d ended their relationship, Reilly had told him Susan had moved on with Justin. Brady’s reaction had been a cluster of emotions: happy she’d have the life she wanted, angry she’d found someone so quickly and sad that their relationship was over. For good. He’d suspected Justin had been interested in Susan for a long time. When Brady and Susan had been dating, Justin had flirted with her and paid extra attention to her. He hadn’t waited long after Brady was gone before swooping in.

  Brady had been the one to walk away from Susan, but she’d been the first to move on with her life.

  Knowing her relationship with the man who’d taken his place wasn’t as ideal as he’d believed wasn’t any solace. Justin had brought Susan into this nightmare, the legal problems and danger.

  What reason did someone have to kill an accountant? Perhaps Justin had been involved in tax fraud or was cooking the books for a criminal element. His lack of scruples while in the military suggested he’d be willing to break the law when it suited him. Could he have been involved with drugs?

  “Was Justin a heavy drinker?” Brady asked.

  Susan brought her hand to her mouth in thought and his attention was dragged to her lips. A mouth he had kissed before, a mouth that could deliver passion, heat and pleasure.

  She let out a serrated breath. “He didn’t drink often.” Her voice sounded smaller, quieter than it had been a moment before.

  She licked her lower lip and Brady marshaled his body’s rising response and focused on the road ahead of him. “Was he using any other substances?”

  “No. For crying out loud, Brady, do you think I would agree to marry someone with a drug problem? After what my parents went through?”

  It wasn’t a slight against her. Plenty of unsuspecting people became involved with someone and found out too late they were hiding a drug or alcohol problem.

  “Just covering the bases, looking for possible reasons why someone would kill Justin. Did he carry a large amount of money with him? Wear an expensive watch?”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “You know who his father is. His family has plenty of money and Justin had nice things. Justin had a small amount of cash on the boat that was untouched. None of the electronics were missing and I don’t think he kept much of resalable value in his onboard safes. The only item that’s missing is my camera, but I don’t know if I lost it that night or it was taken.”

  Did Susan have an incriminating picture in her camera, a shot someone wanted to keep hidden? Brady hated upsetting and pressuring her for answers, but he wanted to get to the bottom of this. Brady’s impatience was getting the best of him. He’d hoped to reignite her memories by walking through that night. When she’d gotten frustrated with his questions, he’d presented other theories, trying to find out if others could have been involved or if Susan had seen evidence of Justin’s dark side.

  Justin had one. He hid it well. But Brady’s experiences with him in the military had told him something important about the man: he was willing to lie to get what he wanted and he had no qualms about wriggling out of responsibility for his actions. Justin hadn’t been the ringleader of the air force kickback scheme and Brady figured Justin had matured and changed since then. A near miss with dire consequences should have changed Justin for the better. Brady was sorry to learn he’d been wrong. Susan was taking the brunt of whatever Justin had done or whomever he had pissed off.

  Brady, on the other hand, was aware of his infractions, took responsibility for them, and felt bad for them. Breaking Susan’s heart had been wrong, even if he’d thought he was doing it for the right reasons. He had loved her and his decisions had cost her trust. He didn’t think he’d get a chance to win her back and if he was honest with himself, he didn’t deserve one.

  * * *

  The upscale marina in Cherry Creek State Park was like a country club, with restaurants and weekend functions making it one of the best places to dock a boat in Denver that included a social life. Susan wore a baseball cap to cover her hair, but skipped the sunglasses, thinking they would attract attention at nighttime. Attention they were trying to avoid.

  The sky was cloudy and a light rain was falling. Anxiety thrummed in her veins. Brady, on the other hand, appeared unconcerned, his posture relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world to go anywhere and do anything. Despite his outward appearance, he was on high alert. He wasn’t taking this lightly.

  Brady slung his arm over her shoulder and lowered his mouth close to her ear. “Relax. You look ready to jump out of your skin. We need to blend.”

  Touching her set her more on edge. The electric press of his skin against hers excited her.

  “I am as calm as I can be under the circumstances.” She didn’t have Brady’s experience in covert operations. This was her first and she had much at stake. If she got onto the boat and couldn’t remember anything, what could she do next? Where could she turn?

  Brady’s thumb rubbed her shoulder and she shrugged off his arm. That was enough touching. If he wanted her to focus and be calm, touching wasn’t a good idea. It unhinged her, and until she was apathetic toward him, it was better he not. “Please
keep your hands to yourself.”

  Brady remained close at her side. “We’re pretending to be a couple.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You said earlier that kissing wasn’t a good idea.”

  “I’m not kissing you. I had my arm around you.”

  Like the contact was any less smoldering. “Is it different Brady? Really, is it?” Both made her feel like going up in flames.

  “One involves my mouth and the other my arm. It’s different.”

  Not to her. His ability to build barriers and shut her out was amazing. She wasn’t to the point of believing he felt nothing when he was close to her, though he was better at ignoring it and controlling his reaction. They might not trust each other and they might have scores of problems between them, but the memories of their lust-fuelled relationship burned between them. “Just keep your hands—and your mouth—to yourself so I can concentrate on why we’re here,” Susan said.

  “Lead the way,” Brady said, sliding his hands into his pockets.

  “His slip is on the third pier,” Susan said, straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath.

  She lowered her head to the ground as two men walked by, talking loudly with beers in their hands. Susan didn’t know them, but she wasn’t taking chances of being recognized. Justin’s murder had no doubt been the talk of the gossip mill at the marina.

  When they arrived at the third pier, they stepped onto the dock, walking plank by plank. Susan’s fear ratcheted up another few notches. Was Justin’s body floating somewhere nearby? The police believed it would be found in the area. They had sent dive teams to search the water. His body might have been dumped in the surrounding park, where it would be waiting for a hiker to find. Morbid thoughts that haunted her. Justin deserved to be laid to rest and his family deserved closure.