Sundays Are for Murder

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Curiosity,” she suggested finally.

  His brows drew together. And then his lips quirked in a smile.

  “Sorry, Special Agent Dow, but my curiosity tank’s on empty.” He gestured to the piles of paperwork spread out on his desk. Charts, theories. And mountains of evidence that didn’t help a damn. “I used it all up on the job.”

  Charley laughed. Or at least she thought she did. She was too tired to really be sure.

  “Me, too,” she agreed. Although she had to admit that she still had a tiny bit of curiosity left and it centered around him.

  “So, are you game?”

  She almost asked for what, which would have sounded damn coy on her part. Smiling, she shook her head.

  “Thanks, but I’m going to have to take a rain check.” The soft laugh was directed at herself. “If I go out for a drink now, I might drown in it.”

  Amusement glittered in his green eyes as they watched her. He rose from his desk and moved closer to hers. “I wasn’t planning on buying you that big a drink.”

  His words caught her by surprise. She hadn’t realized that Brannigan’s invitation included paying for her drink. Maybe he meant nothing by it, but in her book, if he was paying, that made it something a little more than just two partners grabbing a beer. Exactly what, she was too tired to contemplate.

  Maybe it was the hour, or her state of near-exhaustion, but he was standing too close. The air-conditioning in the building had long since shut off and the room was getting decidedly warmer.

  She pushed her chair back from her desk—and him.

  “Wouldn’t take much to drown me right now,” she countered.

  Nick inclined his head, knowing when not to push. “Okay, then, see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” she echoed.

  He was gone before she could think of anything else to say.

  She would have liked to have had that drink, but if she’d gone in her present state, things might have happened that she wasn’t ready for. She’d gotten an inkling of that when he’d stood so close to her.

  No use borrowing trouble, and Nick Brannigan was trouble if she ever saw it.

  She had to get home. It was a mayday cry from her body. Absently, Charley neatened the converging piles on her desk before they became one huge mass. The scent of Brannigan’s aftershave suddenly came to her. Or maybe that was just her imagination.

  She shook her head. Definitely overtired.

  She couldn’t help wondering if her partner was aware of all the looks he garnered from the women in the immediate area whenever he walked by. Probably so used to admiration, it didn’t even register.

  There was such a thing as being too good-looking, Charley mused. Whoever fell for Brannigan was asking for a heartache. Acquiring a heartache was very, very low on her priority list.

  Pressing a series of keys, Charley closed down her computer. Once the light disappeared from the screen and the soft humming noise faded, she locked her desk. With a sigh, she longed for a magical way to get home just by wishing herself there.

  She got up and slipped on the light blue linen jacket that had spent most of the day slung over the back of her chair. The entire day had been hot, but Southern California evenings were surprising sometimes.

  Her purse straps slung over her shoulder, Charley made her way to the elevator and then to the front entrance. Exiting, she stood at the top of the stairs for a moment, breathing in the cool air.

  Despite the fact that summer had settled in, dusk began to embrace the parking lot. Only a handful of cars were left on the lot. She spent too many hours here. A family of dust mites had probably moved into her lungs a long time ago. There had to be something more to living than this.

  But for the life of her, Charley couldn’t think of what.

  Something dark caught her eye. Staring, trying to accustom her eyes to the limited light, Charley saw a movement near her vehicle.

  Someone was lurking around her car.

  Tension, her tired state—everything—vanished to be replaced by a rush of adrenaline that surged through her entire system. In less time than it took to think about it, Charley had her weapon in both hands, holding it steady and trained on the shadow in the distance.

  “Step away from the car,” she ordered in a loud voice. “FBI.”

  The shadow took on substance and form as it moved from the vehicle, out into the light being cast by the parking-lot lamps.

  It was a man and his hands were raised. He spoke as he drew closer. “I know what you are, Charley. I was there at the graduation ceremony, remember?”

  Charley holstered her weapon on the fly. With a whoop comprised of sheer joy, she leaped into her older brother’s arms. The bear hug lasted what seemed like several minutes.

  Stepping back, she threaded her arms around his neck the way she had when they were younger. “David, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  “Then I wouldn’t have had the thrill of having you point your gun at me,” he deadpanned. After giving her a bear hug of his own, he released her. Still beaming at him, she straightened her jacket.

  “Besides, I like seeing your face light up when you realize you almost killed a civilian.”

  She didn’t take his bait. Hundreds of questions popped into her head. Questions it would take him all night to answer.

  She began at the beginning. “How long are you in town for?” But before he could answer, Charley stepped back and looked him over. “God, you’ve gotten skinnier. Don’t the Marines believe in feeding their people?”

  David held his hand up in self-defense, well aware that if he let her, his sister would bury him in questions before he had a chance to answer the first one.

  “I’ve just gotten transferred to Southern California and I’m living on love, not mess-hall cooking.” He grinned at her. Since he had her full attention, David dropped his bombshell. “I’m getting married, Charley. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  IT TOOK HER a second to recover. Maybe two. And then she grinned. From ear to ear as she hugged him again. David was a good guy. He deserved to be happy.

  “I hope you told the bride-to-be before you told me.”

  David laughed as she released him. “Yeah, well, okay, you’re the second to know.”

  More questions crowded in with the first set. They couldn’t just stand here talking in the parking lot. She looked around for his old car and didn’t see it. Charley drew her brother over to the passenger side of her vehicle and opened the door.

  “C’mon, let’s go get a drink and you can fill me in on everything. The first thing I want to know is who is this hussy who’s got her claws into my big brother.”

  David got in and buckled up. “I thought that might be the first question on the list.” He leaned back, getting comfortable. As he did, he looked around inside the vehicle. He’d gone with her when she’d bought this, years ago. “Glad you still drive this old heap.”

  Charley patted the dashboard in the same manner she petted Dakota. “Mind your language. It’s sensitive. Besides, four years doesn’t exactly qualify as old.”

  “If the car’s anything like you,” he informed her, “it’s got the hide of a rhino.”

  Charley took a swat at him without even taking her eyes off the road.

  THE LOCAL BAR and grill frequented by the federal agents who worked in the nearby building was filled to capacity at that hour. People came there looking to unwind and to hang up the heavy burden of their responsibilities.

  The big, beefy bartender behind the bar moved faster than he looked capable of, mixing and serving drinks at a feverish pace. Two barmaids equipped with damp trays moved between the bar and the tables scattered throughout the room, bringing back the tall glasses of liquid reinforcement.

  Smoking had long since been banned in establishments such as Reilly’s, but the air was thick with the sound of voices. A jukebox in the corner was stocked with nothing but Elvis songs. If one
was playing now, it didn’t manage to break through the din.

  The press of flesh and warm breath instantly greeted Charley the moment she pushed open the front door. She glanced back at her brother. “Too crowded?”

  “Just right,” he judged.

  She grinned. Seeing two people getting up from a table, Charley immediately plowed through the tangle of bodies in her way, determined to stake a claim. She threw her jacket over one of the seats a heartbeat before another customer reached it. The man scowled at her but backed away.

  Only then did she turn around to make sure David was behind her.

  Before sitting down, she held up her hand until she caught the eye of one of the barmaids. Nodding, the woman started moving in their direction.

  David sat down opposite his sister. He shook his head with a laugh. “Same old Charley.”

  She knew he was referring to her pushiness. It was a trait she’d developed in the past five years. Because Cris was no longer around to lead the way.

  “Ditch the ‘old,’” Charley instructed. “Two beers,” she told the willowy blonde when the barmaid was close enough to hear. “Whatever’s on tap,” she added, then glanced at David to see if that met with his approval. He nodded his head.

  “So…” Knotting her hands together, Charley leaned forward the moment the barmaid withdrew to get their beers. “Been to see Dad yet?”

  The corners of David’s smile leveled out ever so slightly and became grim. “No.”

  She hadn’t thought so. Never really a candidate for father of the year, Christopher Dow had had a particularly difficult time relating to his son. Things became more estranged as David grew up. Every frustration their father felt, real or imagined, he’d taken out on David until he had finally had enough. He’d enlisted in the Marines, against his father’s wishes. There’d been a few visits—until Cris’s murder. After that, David stopped coming around on leave.

  She studied her brother’s face. “Should I tell him you’re here?”

  David paused before answering. “Only if he asks.” He looked at Charley. “And he won’t ask.”

  Charley nodded, momentarily abiding by his wishes. “What about the wedding? Are you inviting him?”

  She knew, being David, he wanted to. But that didn’t mean he was going to. You could only have your hand slapped away so often before you stopped extending it.

  He shrugged. “He wouldn’t come even if I invited him, so why bother?”

  More than anything, she wanted peace in the family. She could see how the schism bothered her brother. “David, maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet.”

  “He made it perfectly clear the last time we talked that he wanted nothing to do with me.”

  Because it was impossible to lower her voice and still be heard, Charley hunched forward even closer to her brother. “He’s an unhappy, bitter old man, David—”

  David laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “So far, you’re not saying anything to recommend my getting in contact with him.” Their father had been far from perfect before the murder. But after Cris was killed, things became that much worse. “Look, Cris’s death didn’t just happen to him, it happened to all of us. If he’d reached out to Mom when she was sinking into that abyss, maybe she wouldn’t be spending her days and nights locked away where we can’t reach her.”

  She knew he wasn’t talking about the nursing facility. “You’ve been to see her.”

  For just a moment, his expression bordered on bitter. “Yeah, I’ve been to see her. Thought I’d get that over with before I came to find you.”

  She knew he didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Seeing their mother, a woman who had been beautiful by anyone’s standards, a woman who had been lively and happy, reduced to a shell of her former self, was hard on all of them. Especially David, who’d been so close to her.

  Banishing the serious moment, David’s expression softened as he forced a smile to his lips. He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I can’t wait for you to meet Lisa. You’re going to love her.”

  “As long as she’s good to you, I promise I’ll adore her. Tell me all about her.”

  He thought for a moment, as if wondering where to begin. “In a way, I guess she reminds me a little bit of you.”

  “Love her already.” About to pump him for more information, she stopped as another thought occurred to her. “Where are you staying tonight?”

  “Lisa isn’t due in for a couple of days. I thought I’d get a room at this motel—”

  Charley stared at him, stunned. “The hell you will. I’ve got a fold-out sofa in my living room. I’ll take that, you take the bed.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  The look Charley gave him said it was useless to argue. “You can if I want you to.”

  “Charley—”

  Giving him a smug look, Charley patted her brother’s hand. “If you’re getting married, Davy-boy, I think you’d better get used to being ordered around by a woman.”

  David shook his head. “She’s not like that.”

  He might be her older brother and a Marine, but if he believed that, he knew nothing about women. She gave him an amused smile.

  “All women are like that, David. We just wait around until we’ve won you over, then we spring the trap.” She leaned back in her chair, looking at him. Remembering when they were children, playing together. Life had been so simple back then. Simple and innocent. “God, married. I can’t believe it. When’s the big day?”

  “A month from this coming Sunday.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She’d expected him to say something like “in six months,” or “next spring.” This was so sudden.

  “A month?” she echoed. She tried to remember what tradition dictated in their religion. It had been a very long time since she’d attended services. She had stopped going right after Cris’s funeral. “Don’t you need to post the banns for a month or something like that?”

  “The chaplain on my old base knows a priest at the local church here. He put in a good word for me and a few rules were bent.”

  “Ah.” She nodded knowingly. “The ever-popular rule bending.” She saw the barmaid finally approaching with their beers. “Just what makes the world go around.”

  The young woman quickly placed each large mug on a tiny coaster. Charley gave her a twenty. When the barmaid began to make change, Charley waved her on. The barmaid flashed a row of gleaming teeth, then hurried off.

  Charley moved her glass in front of her. As she did so, she absently glanced into the crowd. Charley had no idea why her eyes were drawn to the far right.

  Recognition was instant.

  Standing with his back to the bar, scanning the room, Brannigan had obviously seen her several minutes before she was aware of him. Long enough to observe the exchange between his partner and the tall, good-looking blond-haired man with her.

  When she looked in his direction, he raised his mug of beer, as if in a silent toast.

  Her heart stopped, as if holding its breath. And then she realized that she was the one holding her breath. Charley forced herself to inhale slowly, then exhale again. For the life of her, she couldn’t read the expression on her partner’s face. Only that Brannigan’s lips seemed to be twisted in what looked like a bemused smirk.

  There was absolutely no reason for her to feel guilty. No reason to feel like a kid who’d been discovered with her hand in the cookie jar. No reason at all.

  But she did.

  “What’s the matter?” David asked. He scanned the immediate area to see who had caught his sister’s attention. “You look the way you did that time when Mrs. McCann sent you to the principal’s office for cheating.”

  Charley looked back at her brother. “I didn’t cheat,” she informed him. “Mary Ellen Walters was the one who cheated. She was looking at my test paper, not the other way around. Just took her a while to admit it, that’s all.” She remembered that Cris had been the one who’d finally made the oth
er girl confess. Cris, pretending to be her. Back then, it had always been Cris who’d been the gutsy one, not her. “I just saw someone I knew,” she explained.

  “Seeing as how every person here is connected to the FBI in some way, I’d figure it’s hard for you not to see someone you know.”

  “Very funny, wise guy.”

  Maybe she should invite Brannigan over, introduce him to her brother. Deciding that was the way to go, she looked back toward the bar.

  But Brannigan was nowhere in sight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  HE’D BEEN WATCHING her.

  Watched her for longer than he could remember watching any of the others. Had begun watching her even before he’d brought the other one to her eternal salvation.

  He’d hoped that he was wrong, that there had been some mistake. But there wasn’t. She was a sinner. Just like the others.

  Just like the very first one.

  Learning her routine had been difficult because people were always around her. He’d turned that to his advantage, slipping into the crowd. Hiding in plain sight. He was ever afraid that someone might see him. Actually see him instead of just looking through him. But he’d had nothing to fear. So far, he doubted anyone would have even been aware that he was anywhere in the vicinity.

  He was one of those people other people looked right through without realizing that there had been anyone in that spot at all. Whether he wanted it or not, anonymity cloaked him wherever he went.

  He’d resented that deeply as a child. He had tried very hard to be noticed, at least by the one person who mattered in his life. His father. The one man he could bond with against his mother. She’d treated them both as if they were dirt beneath her feet, even though his father was a minister.

  It made no difference to her.

  And he, as her son, had made no difference to her. But he had so badly wanted to make a difference as far as his father was concerned.