Her Best Friend's Keeper (Finley Creek Book 1)

by Calle J. Brookes

  “You know I will.”

  “Maybe they’ll let you share a room with Brynna? I’ll bring you yellow pajamas…”

  Mel lifted a hand to her left side. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  Gabby stayed with her friend while the nurses buzzed around and the doctor ordered tests for Mel. Kevin came hurrying in.

  Gabby really felt for him, he was obviously worried about Mel now. First Brynna, now Mel. What was next?

  Gabby waited until Kevin was finished hugging Mel, then excused herself to find Elliot again.

  Chance found them in Elliot’s exam room half an hour later. “It’s all set. Let’s get him out of here.”

  “What’s set?” Elliot asked. The doctor—a friend of Jilly’s Gabby knew and liked—had given him a shot of pain killer and he was a bit clouded. But he clung to Gabby—and she clung to him. She needed to feel him, solid and warm beneath her hands. “What’s the plan? I can’t drive.”

  “You’re going to do what you’re told for once. I’m going to get you and your girl someplace safe for the night. Then we’ll figure out tomorrow. I’ve borrowed us a car.”

  “Then let’s get going,” Gabby said. Elliot was leaning on her, and he was starting to get heavy.

  “Let’s go. We’re going out the employee entrance.”

  Gabby recognized the car he led her to. “Ari’s car?” Jilly’s friend Ariella worked at the hospital as a victim’s rights counselor part-time. “How is she getting home?”

  “Bumming a ride from one of the doctors, I think.” Chance didn’t seem to care. “She volunteered the car. It suited our purposes. I’ll repay the favor someday.”

  “Is it safe? Where are we going?” Gabby felt the fear again, as they got closer to the exit.

  “Just get in the car. I’ll get us where we need to go. It’ll take us about an hour to get there, though. Why don’t the two of you lay back and rest. Hell, keep your heads down, anyway. That will make us less noticeable if someone’s waiting for us to leave.”

  “What did Erickson say?” Someone had called the shooting in while they’d been in the ER and Gabby had already given her witness statement to McKellen.

  “Basically, we’re going off the grid for the night. Until Elliot’s head is clear. Then we’ll figure out what to do next about that video.”

  “Elliot knocked me out of the way,” Gabby said slowly. “I know that someone shot at me. Someone broke into my apartment, someone attacked my best friend and stole my laptop, and now someone shot at me. And it’s all because of whatever I saw on that video ten years ago. But I don’t have a clue what that is. What am I supposed to do, Chance?”

  “You hunker down in the back of this damned SUV and keep my brother’s head below the window line. I’ll get you someplace warm and safe. We’ll figure it out from there.”

  Gabby did just that.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR.

  ***

  ELLIOT opened his eyes when the car stopped. He took a look around and cursed. Cursed his brother up one side and down the other.

  “I can’t believe you brought her here. Damn it, Chance. Have you gone insane?”

  “We need a safe place. One we’re familiar with—and can defend.”

  “So you brought her here, to the very place the killers struck first? Did you even think about how that would hurt her?” The torture it would be to Gabby, to him? He hadn’t stepped foot back in the house he’d grown up in since he’d went to get clothing to bury his family in.

  “My first concern isn’t how much pain your girlfriend has to deal with, but with the fact that she stays alive long enough to deal with it. It’s not any easier for me to be here, either.”

  Gabby watched the two brothers.

  And got angry once what they were saying sank in. As what she saw with her own two eyes started to make sense. She understood, she guessed. But… “This home has been in your family for two hundred years!”

  Two pairs of green eyes looked at her. Elliot stepped toward her. “Gabby?”

  “Your dad was proud of this place and the work your ancestors put into this ranch. And you guys just closed it off and walked away.” Everything the Marshall family had been, everything Elliot, Sr. and his wife had stood for had been family. Home.

  “What other option did we have? Every time we stepped in here we were reminded of them.” Chance’s words were harsh. Gabby refused to step back no matter how intimidating he looked in that moment.

  “And every time I close my eyes I see Sara and Slade, and your mom and dad die. I get that you don’t want those memories. But…this is wrong. It’s too sad. And I remember your dad telling Sara that one day it would be your kids or hers or Slade’s that played here next. And that’s the way it should be!”

  ***

  She looked at him with accusation on her face and for the first time Elliot felt guilt for the way they’d walked away from their home. “Gabby…it was just…”

  “Easier. I get it, I do. I really do. But Elliot, this house meant so much to them. It seems wrong, somehow, to know that it’s been abandoned. To know how much that would hurt them.”

  It had been, and it was evident. He’d paid someone to paint over the blood. To clean up the broken glass and patch any damage. Then he’d had that person close up the house.

  By that point Chance had taken off for parts unknown and Elliot hadn’t seen any other option. And he hadn’t been back, since.

  Yet they’d been given offers on the property over the years. He just hadn’t been able to accept. “We didn’t abandon it.”

  “Don’t lie. You’re not very good at it.” She walked over to the mantle where some pictures had once been displayed. They’d been destroyed ten years ago. He remembered each one of them perfectly. His senior photo, Chance’s, and Slade’s had set next to Sara’s kindergarten one. His mother had always made a big production of changing the kindergarten photos to the final school ones when she’d receive them.

  Said that it represented a new beginning for each of them.

  Sara would never have a senior photo, and Slade’s had only been two weeks old when they had died.

  How did Gabby expect him to be able to look at this house and not remember the things that would never be?

  She was right in a way, though. His ancestral home was made for a family, and a large one at that. Five bedrooms, an office, a study, his mother’s sewing room, those rooms were all on the basement level. The upper level had the living area, the formal front room that was part of the original structure, and the kitchen and dining areas big enough for large, elaborate parties.

  That was just the house. The rest of the property covered fifteen hundred acres of prime farm and ranch land. His great-grandfather had once owned four times that area, back in the ranching heyday, but the fifteen hundred that remained in the family had been the original homestead.

  Elliot had once felt that same pride.

  The place was dusty, and nothing had been disturbed in the ten years it had sat empty. Everything would still be where his mother and father had left it. Who could fault them for not wanting to deal with it?

  But it had been a decade. And the house deserved to be loved. Lived in by a family that would love it.

  “Turn the lights on.” Chance suddenly barked out. Elliot complied. They hadn’t turned on the living room lights, just the foyer. The dark made it seem all the more overwhelming. “I’ve been paying the utilities. We’ve got lights and water. And we can check the generator. If it’s working, we’ll have heat. If not, there’s wood out back and I’ll check the flue.”

  When the light flicked on, he wasn’t so sure that was better.

  Dust and cobwebs hung from the chandelier, and the rug that had once been light in color was dingy tan. Elliot didn’t even want to consider the amount of work that was needed to be done just to make the place habitable for one night. What had his brother been thinking?

  He asked just that.

  Chance grunted at him, then st
epped over to the window and looked out it. “I was thinking we needed a safe place to hole up. And figure out what to do next. That is, unless you trust the people you work with?”

  Hell no, he didn’t. The ones he trusted were right there in the room with him. And that was it.

  “No. Everything needs to stay right here. With the three of us.”

  “You think someone at TSP shot at us?”

  Wide eyed fear flooded big blue eyes and Elliot went with his gut instinct. He pulled her against his chest using the arm that wasn’t in the sling. He buried his fingers in blonde hair and he kissed her forehead. “I’m just not being stupid, sweetheart. I’ll do anything to keep you safe. Chance is right. This is where we belong tonight. A place we know, a place we can...” He’d started to say defend but stopped.

  She didn’t need to fear a second attack. Not tonight. He looked at his brother. Chance nodded. Elliot knew his brother understood. They’d do whatever they had to do to keep her safe. Protected. He rocked her for a minute, and she relaxed against him.

  He felt warm curves and soft woman, vulnerable and sweet. She was just his Gabby. A part of his past, and the biggest part of his present. And he was damned determined to see she had a future. To see they had one.

  He set her aside, then looked at his brother. “Check the windows and the doors. I’ve got the keys to Dad’s study. I want to do a quick inventory.”

  “Understood.”

  Their father had been an avid gun collector, and as far as Elliot knew that collection was still secured in his father’s study. He wasn’t anticipating they’d need an arsenal, but he wasn’t about to let them be ambushed without some way to defend themselves, if needed.

  His father’s study was at the end of the back hall. But he wasn’t willing to leave Gabby alone in the living room long enough to take a look for himself.

  “Chance, take a look. See what’s in there we can use.”

  “Bed, for one thing. Dad’s couch folded out. We can drag a mattress in there to toss on top, if needed. There’s just the one window. Big enough to get out of, if needed. And can be defended from the hallway.”

  Elliot glared at his brother when he felt the woman in his arms stiffen. Chance shrugged. “Better she knows the truth than you keep sugar coating everything.”

  “I’m not. But that doesn’t mean you should continue rubbing it in her face.”

  She pulled back. “I’m ok. I’m not going to fall apart. I’m made of sterner stuff than that. I think. And this isn’t any easier for you two, either. I’m not a wimp. You don’t have to hide things from me. I kind of know what we’re facing here, you know?”

  But he wanted to. He wanted to put her someplace safe, where bad things could never touch her. He put his hands on her cheeks—her skin was so smooth and soft beneath his palms—and just held her for a moment. “We’ll be ok.”

  Blue eyes were filled with hope. And even more frightening, trust. She was trusting him.

  It made him feel ten feet tall and absolutely terrified. “We will. Stay with Chance, out here. I’m going to check the office, grab some sheets out of the closet. They may be a bit musty, but we have some time to run them through the washing machine and dryer before bed.”

  She nodded.

  He needed a moment away from her, and he wasn’t ashamed to say that. At least to himself.

  Something about Gabby Kendall melted him to his very soul.

  ***

  OLD washing machines that hadn’t been used in ten years took a few moments to get started. Gabby had insisted on being the one to do it. She needed to get away from the intense gazes of the Marshall brothers before they had her falling into a babbling, crying mess.

  She hadn’t felt this crazy emotional since the years immediately following the murders. Was it just because of what was happening, the new threat, or the fact that the knights-in-tarnished armors were Sara’s brothers? The last of what had once been her second family?

  The sheets were light pink, with tiny red tea roses printed over them. Anne Marshall must have washed them over and over again. Used them to make her home comfortable and welcoming. The touches of Elliot and Chance’s mother were still there, underneath all the dust and sadness.

  It made Gabby miss Anne and her own mother with an ache she could almost touch. She pushed those thoughts away by grabbing a broom from the back of the laundry room door and attacking some of the dust in the family room.

  How many hours had she spent in this room as a girl? Sleepovers, afterschool hanging out time, massive study sessions? Just being there with people who cared about her and made her feel like she belonged, while her mom was busy working to support the two of them.

  The things the Marshall family had given her would never be forgotten. And they shouldn’t have been forgotten.

  She wasn’t stopping until the dust was gone, until this home they’d loved so much was just as warm and inviting as it had once been.

  If their sons tried to stop her, she’d give them a real piece of her mind. Anne and Elliot, Sr. had deserved better.

  And she’d see that their memories got that.

  Elliot was the first to poke his handsome head into the room to check on her. “You ok?”

  “No. Not at all. This place is filthy. Grab a broom.” She pushed the one in her hands into his. “I’ll start getting some of this dust up. I’m sure your mom had some better rugs somewhere. Guest room, maybe.” She looked at the man who’d come up behind him. “You. Why did you turn the utilities on, but not bother to have this place cleaned?”

  “Because…I was planning to come back here. Figure things out. Deal with the cleaning, then. That meet your approval, sweetie?”

  “Not my place to approve or disapprove, but I’m not staying here with it all messy. And your brother needs to take it easy and let his arm heal. So…you…get the mop. I’ll run your mom’s vacuum over the place first, see what I can get out of the way. Then we’ll make this place habitable.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They worked in almost silence. She traded the duster she’d found for the broom in Elliot’s hand. He didn’t need to be using his injured arm cleaning, but he could dust one-handed. And she knew he wasn’t the type to sit back and watch other people do the work.

  No one had forgotten that the last time this place had been cleaned was ten years ago, and that it was his mother’s hands who had done it.

  When they were finished she looked at her two companions. Elliot was pale but he was on his feet.

  Chance’s expression was hard as granite.

  He scared Gabby sometimes. Had Sara’s brother always been that intense?

  She far preferred Elliot’s calmer manner in things. Something about the way he reassured her just by looking at her, it settled her frazzled nerves and made her think—if just for a moment—that everything was going to be ok.

  At least for the next little while. He was leaning against the old mantle, running a finger over the grooves that some long ago ancestor had carved.

  For the longest time she’d thought of what she had lost that day. But they had lost so much more.

  And they didn’t seem all that close now. Had they broken away from each other, too?

  How could she help fix that?

  “Elliot?” She could start with the one who needed her the most. Gabby crossed the room and wrapped her hand around his uninjured arm. “Why don’t you sit down for a while? You have to be hurting. The rest of this can wait.”

  “Can it?” He turned sad eyes toward her. “Maybe it has waited long enough.”

  She couldn’t help it. He needed it, and she probably did, too. She hugged him.

  It took a moment, but his arms wrapped around her. And they held.

  Her head fit right on his shoulder, perfectly. He was the same height as Jarrod, the last man she’d been close to like this, but where her friend was leaner, Elliot Marshall was pure man muscle beneath his shirt. His heartbeat was right there against her ea
r, steady and sure.

  Alive.

  They both were.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE.

  ***

  GABBY watched the newscast on her first break the next day for anything about the shooting at the hospital. It was mentioned, but not with a lot of details. Elliot’s doing, no doubt. Benny was in one of his moods—she suspected Brynna’s absence really bothered him—so she kept herself busy on projects for the Major Crimes and Gangs units that required little supervisory oversight.

  McKellen came in to ask how Brynna was and she told him what she knew. He smiled at her and she was struck by how handsome he actually was. “She’ll be ok, Commander McKellen.”

  “Of course. Thanks, Gabby. I…uh…suppose Chance Marshall is with her?”

  “I think so.”

  “Great. He’ll keep her safe, then, I’m sure. Can you tell her when you see her that I—we’re all looking forward to her coming back to work soon. She’s missed around here.”

  “I’ll do that.” Poor man, that was all she could think. He was a few years younger than Elliot, a few inches shorter but very handsome. He’d really cared about Brynna, hadn’t he?

  Before Chance.

  Pretty sucky situation, wasn’t it?

  The newscast came back from commercial break and Gabby glanced at the television in the corner. Mel and Jillian’s faces stared back at her. “Hey! It’s Mel and Jilly.”

  McKellen turned up the volume. Jillian gave a quick update on Brynna’s condition and Mel thanked the public for their continued support and assistance as her sister recuperated. A local autism special interest group had even offered assistance with Brynna’s hospital bill and to pay for in-home nursing, if needed.

  It wasn’t. There were plenty of people in Brynna’s life willing to help her through this. Jillian was going to sleep in Brynna’s room with her at night in case she needed anything then. Mel was going to be with her during the day. Jillian’s friend, Dr. McGareth, was planning to come over at least once a day to check on her as well. They had Brynna covered, didn’t they?