by Dee Davis
And certainly not for a single moment in the dark.
Chapter 6
It was early. Guardian’s office complex was empty, silent. The morning sunlight filtered through the window at the end of the hall, a stark contrast to the dark last night. Katie sighed. There was no question about it, darkness was seductive. She made her way down the corridor, carefully checking each office for personnel. So far she was alone.
Which was exactly how she wanted it.
Now and always.
At least in the morning light she was sure of that. And overall there hadn’t been any real harm done. She’d talked more than she should have, certainly. But nothing could damage her cover. She’d managed to hold on to that one little bit of sanity.
Which surely counted for something.
She checked the hallway again, and then certain she was alone, slipped into Jonathan Brighton’s office. Although it didn’t seem likely, she had to admit she was hoping she’d find something here. Something to positively incriminate the man.
Then she’d be on her way back to Boston and last night would just be a memory.
If even that.
The office was austere at best. Black on gray with nothing that looked even remotely personal. This room made the man’s apartment look positively warm and fuzzy. Katie carefully closed the door and walked over to the desk.
A big mahogany affair, it filled the space, diminishing everything else with its sheer presence. But like the rest of the office it looked unused. Puzzled, she sat down in the executive chair and pulled open a drawer.
Empty.
Frowning, she pulled open another. This one held the remnants of office supplies. A broken pencil, a half-empty tape dispenser, and a couple of paper clips. She swiveled the chair and opened the credenza behind her. Again, nothing but leftovers. The odd paper or report. Nothing that could possibly help her.
It was as if the man had left in a hurry.
But he hadn’t. He was upstairs this very moment. Alone and, at least in the dark of the night, vulnerable.
Or had she been the vulnerable one?
She closed the door to the credenza, using the motion to close the door on her thoughts. There had to be a logical explanation. She just needed to find it. The sound of footfalls in the hallway set her blood racing, and she moved to the opposite side of the desk, reaching the other chair just as the door swung open.
Danny Brighton stood at the threshold, his expression carefully masked. “I thought I heard someone in here.” His words were neutral; his tone, however, was not.
She forced a smile. “I was trying to find John. I thought maybe he’d be in his office, but . . .” She let the words trail off, waving a hand to indicate the empty room.
“He’s probably upstairs.” His lips parted in an answering smile, but his eyes still held questions. “We moved his things up to his study. I thought it would be better if he didn’t have to come down here except when absolutely necessary.”
Katie nodded. That explained the empty office. She should have thought of it herself. “I didn’t know. And when he wasn’t in his room, I just came down here. We have a session scheduled this morning.” She started for the door, but he held up a hand to stop her.
“How’s he doing?” Danny’s expression turned serious. “I mean, how is he really doing?”
“As well as can be expected, I guess. Better, actually. He was lucky there wasn’t more damage.”
“I suppose he was.” There was an awkward pause, Danny avoiding her gaze. “It’s just so hard to see him like this. Struggling to remember, to walk—hell, to pick up a fucking pen.”
“It takes time, Danny.”
His eyes mirrored his anguish. “But will it be enough?”
“You’ll have your brother. In some capacity or another. He may not be the same as before. But he’s here. That has to mean something.”
Danny purposefully cleared his face. “Of course it does. I don’t know what I was saying. There’s something about you, Kathleen. You make a man want to spill his soul.” The smile was back.
“I don’t think it’s me at all. It’s just that you’re dealing with some difficult issues. The truth about head injuries is that they change people. Sometimes forever.”
“What if I don’t want things to change?” His gaze connected with hers.
“You don’t have that choice. Things have changed. And the only way any of you are going to move forward is to let go of the past.”
“Good advice.” His smile was crooked, endearing. “But damned hard to follow.” He sobered, his eyes suddenly looking old, and tired. “You have to understand something. My brother is the heart and soul of this business. Without him at the helm, I’m not sure it can continue to exist. At least not in its present state.”
“There’s no reason to believe that John won’t be able to run his business. His mind isn’t gone, Danny. It’s just been rearranged here and there. Reprogrammed, so to speak. But I haven’t seen anything that makes me question his ability to handle things cognitively.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” John’s deep voice startled her, and she jumped away from Danny, feeling foolishly guilty. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Would that you were.” Danny’s grin turned rakish. “But I’m afraid it’s a lost cause. Our Kathleen was looking for you.” He did everything but put a hand to his head, and despite herself, Katie smiled. Danny Brighton was a charmer, all right.
So why was it she felt this insane connection to his brother?
She made a play of looking at her watch, fighting for control over her emotions. “It’s time for your session.” She glanced up, her gaze colliding with his. There were questions in his eyes, questions and something more, an intensity that took her breath away, and for just a moment the world seemed to stand still. Time losing all meaning.
And then, just as quickly, it was gone, his expression shuttered, the fragile connection between them broken. “I haven’t got time for a workout.” He turned his attention to his brother. “Harris called. He wants to meet.”
Danny’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Problems?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t give any reason. Just said he needed to see me as soon as possible.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No. I’ll be fine.” John’s answer was quick and resolute. “Besides, Frank will be there.”
“Frank?” The word was like a curse.
“He’s been in charge of the D.E.S. project in my absence.”
“It should have been me.”
“You had your hands full with other things.” John shrugged. “And Frank has a relationship with Harris.”
“His wife’s mother’s cousin, or something like that. Hardly kissing kin. I have seniority, I should be handling the big accounts.”
“You are. Hexagon, Hobson Enterprises, the Brantley holdings. You’re doing more than your fair share.” John’s tone was just this side of patronizing.
Danny heard him, and looked up, eyes flashing. “I am far more capable of running this company than Frank Jacoby, and you know it.”
“I just said that I did.” John’s voice was placating now, and Katie got the feeling that this sort of confrontation was not unusual between the brothers. “And I think anything else you need to say should be said in private.” He tipped his head toward her, his eyes sending a separate message. One that Katie couldn’t read.
“You’re right.” Danny blew out a breath, and turned to Katie. “Excuse my rudeness. It’s that magic of yours at work again.” He smiled, the gesture moving up his face to his eyes. “I totally forgot you were here.”
“Not an easy thing to do.” John’s eyes were darker than his brother’s, smoldering with promises of things she didn’t dare let herself think about.
Things that could never be.
“I have some concerns.” Wilson Harris stood at the window in the conference room, his hands tense against the sill.
“I’m
sure you do. But I’m also certain that we can work it out.” John glanced over at Frank, who shook his head with a shrug. No help from that quarter. “Why don’t you clarify a little.”
“All right.” Harris turned around, his eyes hard. “The truth is, I’m not sure Guardian is up to handling our business anymore.”
“I’ve done a good job for you.” Frank held out his hands, almost plaintively. That was the problem with Frank. He had no social skills. Or next to none. But he was a hell of a programmer, and that’s what they were paying him to do.
Still, maybe it had been a mistake to put him in charge of the D.E.S. account. Maybe Danny would have done a better job.
Then again, maybe not.
“I think Wilson’s referring to me, Frank.”
Frank dropped his hands back to the table, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
John almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
He turned his attention back to Harris. “I’m right, aren’t I? You meant that you don’t think that I’m capable of handling it.” He’d expected to feel angry, but oddly enough he only felt numb.
Harris shot a look at Frank, obviously considering his answer.
“Just say it.” Here came the anger. At least something was predictable.
“Fine.” Harris met his gaze, unflinching. “I don’t think you’re up to it.”
“Guardian is more than just Jonathan, Wilson.” Frank’s voice rose defensively with each word. “I think I’ve taken pretty good care of you without his input.”
“Maintenance.” Harris waved a hand, dismissing him, his gaze still locked with John’s. “But what happens when we need something new?”
“Then you get me.” John had played blink with tougher men than Harris. The key was not to break eye contact. And not to give in. No weakness. He excelled at the game—or had excelled. Now he wasn’t so sure.
“At full capacity?” Harris frowned, his focus still on the game.
“Half of me is better than most men, Wilson. You know that.” He waited a beat. “But yes, when you need me, you’ll get me at full capacity.”
“And you can promise that.”
“There are no guarantees in this world. I just spent six months in the hospital learning that lesson. But barring further catastrophe, yes. You have my word.”
Harris studied him, and evidently liking what he saw, blinked. He held out his hand. “Your word’s good enough for me.”
“So we’re back in business?” Frank stood up, his attempt to reenter the conversation awkward at best.
Both men looked at him, and Harris smiled. “I think you can safely say that.” He glanced back at John. “But I’ll be watching.”
John forced an answering smile. “I wouldn’t expect it any other way.” There had been a time in his life when he wouldn’t have let anyone say something like that to him. A time when he had been riding high. The top of the heap.
But those days were gone.
There were new rules. And he intended to master them the way he’d done everything else in his life.
One fucking step at a time.
“You shouldn’t be doing that on your own. You’re not strong enough yet.” Katie was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, looking like some sort of demented guardian angel.
John continued to lift the weights, ignoring her comment. He needed the physical strain. Needed to work off his frustration. It hadn’t exactly been a stellar morning. First seeing Danny and Katie together, thick as thieves, and then the meeting with Harris.
He wasn’t sure which upset him more.
“I thought you were working this morning.”
“I was. But the meeting’s over and I needed the break.” He needed more than that, but there was no discussing it with her. There was an awkwardness. A tension that hadn’t existed before last night.
And it was all his fault. He’d moved too quickly. Taking advantage of her vulnerability. But he’d wanted her so badly. Wanted the chance to lose himself in something good. Something far removed from Miller, and Guardian, and gunshots on the side of a Mexican highway.
“We need to talk, John.” There was just a hint of hesitation in her voice, enough to make him feel guilty all over again. He never should have put her in this position.
“There’s nothing to say.” He bit out the words, concentrating on doing his reps.
“Of course there is.” She reached over to take the weight from him. “What happened last night was a mistake.”
His heart sank. In his mind the only mistake had been her leaving. “I see.”
“No. You don’t.” She straddled the end of the bench, facing him, her gaze reflecting her concern. “Being with you would be amazing. I’m certain of it. But I’m here in a professional capacity and it isn’t right for me to let myself get involved with you.” She paused, her breath coming out on a sigh. “No matter how much I want to.”
“So we just pretend it never happened? Pretend there’s nothing between us?”
“There isn’t anything between us.”
“Yet.” He mumbled the word underneath his breath, but she heard him, her eyes darkening with regret.
“John, I’m here to help you. It’s my job, remember? And there’s no way I can keep professional objectivity if I’m emotionally involved.”
“Then I’ll get a new physical therapist.” He was being obstinate and he knew it, but he wasn’t letting this go without a fight.
“Fine. I’ll leave if that’s what you want.” She started to rise, and he reached for her hand, pulling her back down beside him.
“That’s not what I want, and you know it. I want you. But if it’s professionalism you want, then that’s how we’ll play it—for now. But mark my words, this thing between us won’t lie dormant forever. And I, for one, have no intention of fighting it when it surfaces.” He tightened his grip on her hands. “There aren’t that many chances in life, Katie, and when something special comes along, you have to grab on to it with both hands, or run the risk of letting it slip away.”
“Easy to say. But much harder to do. Following your heart has a price, and sometimes it’s just too much to pay.”
He forced a smile, squeezing her hands then letting her go. “Some things, Katie, are worth any price.”
“I find it hard to believe that a man could work somewhere for nearly ten years and yet all of his coworkers deny knowing him on anything but a purely surface level.” D’Angelo watched Danny Brighton, waiting. There was just something about the man that he didn’t like. Maybe it was the fact that he was overly solicitous, or maybe it was the fact that he was a pretty-boy. A purebred southern pretty-boy.
There were two kinds of Texans. The ones who worked hard and got the job done, and the kind that came along to enjoy the spoils. Danny Brighton was definitely a latecomer to the party.
“What can I say? Derek kept to himself. You know he had problems.” Hell, the man couldn’t even say the word drugs. “And to be honest, none of us really wanted to get involved.”
“Except your brother.” Again he watched the younger man, forcing his expression to remain noncommittal. “According to police records it was your brother who bailed Miller out of jail.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. Miller was his latest cause. Jonathan fancies himself a do-gooder.”
D’Angelo frowned, trying to decide if there was a rift between the brothers, or if the younger Brighton simply didn’t understand the concept of generosity. “And I take it you don’t feel the same way.”
“I just think business has to come first. If we’d fired Miller when he started having trouble, his death wouldn’t be affecting Guardian.”
“And it’s affecting it now?”
“Hell, yes, we’ve been fielding calls all morning. You have to understand that Guardian was headline news for months after Jonathan was shot. Now, when things are finally getting back to normal, this happens.” He gestured at the newspaper on the desk. The headl
ine about Miller.
“Getting to the bottom of things is only going to help the situation, Mr. Brighton.” D’Angelo purposely made his voice soothing, conciliatory.
“Look, Detective.” Danny spread his hands wide, the gesture almost apologetic. “I wish I could help you, but the truth is, I don’t keep tabs on my brother. If he bailed Miller out, he didn’t discuss it with me.”
“I see.” He made a play of searching through his notes. Whatever was between the two brothers, they were obviously united against outsiders. Time to take a different tack. “So tell me about your brother’s vacation.”
Danny looked up, surprised. “Not much to tell. Jonathan doesn’t routinely go on vacation, so this one was a big deal. He was scheduled to spend some time in the Mexican mountains. A client has a home up there, and he offered it to Jonathan.”
“You said he didn’t like vacations.”
“I didn’t say that. I said that he didn’t usually go. My brother is a one-note man, Detective. He lives and breathes for Guardian. He created it, and basically, he made it what it is today. And to do that, he’s sacrificed everything else.”
“Everything?” Eric frowned.
“He has no social life. No extracurricular activities, if you know what I mean.” Danny’s eyebrows waggled to underscore his meaning. “And, until Mexico, he rarely even took time off.”
“So why did he go?”
It was Danny’s turn to frown. “You know, I don’t really know. It was sort of sudden actually. He just came in and announced that Andy Martin had offered him the villa, and that he was going.”
“Didn’t you think that was a little strange?”
“I didn’t stop to think. I just remember thinking that it was about time he got away.” His expression turned sheepish. “And I was delighted he finally trusted me enough to leave the company in my hands.”
“But you’re partners.”
“Of a sort. But in many ways, no matter how long we work together, I’ll always be the little brother. That’s the way Jonathan’s always treated me—until now.”
“With his injury.”
“Yes. As awful as it is, one good thing has come out of it. Jonathan had to let me take care of things for a change. Both at home and at Guardian.”