by Angi Morgan
“What are you smiling at?”
Her whispered shout drug him back to reality.
“You, darling.” He deliberately smiled bigger at her. If it irritated her, he just had to continue.
“There’s nothing to smile about,” she droned on. “It’s obvious she’s hired help. I have no idea where she got any money. Probably from that drug-dealer boyfriend of hers.”
So they were still discussing how Brian Sloane could be sitting at the Aubrey Diner counter and not lying on the ground under Tory. He’d almost hated to pull the trigger and end that scene. She’d been clawing at him and he hadn’t punched her once. The sheer strength in the man’s hands was admirable. And deadly. A true killer in the making. Or breaking.
He’d never noticed that about Brian before. And the new haircut... Why had he shorn his head?
“You know there’s another possibility of how Brian could be in two places at the same time.” Why hadn’t he reasoned it out before?
“What are you blathering about?” She crossed her arms under her tiny breasts.
Tory had a terrific stack up top. Had. Past tense. “John. He’s back. He probably returned the day your private detective took the picture. Think about it. We’ve waited weeks for Alicia to do something with Brian. But remember, love, she was always John’s girlfriend.”
“Oh, my God. That explains everything. We have to call the police.” She made a beeline to the phone.
“There’s no rush, honey. You can have an epiphany during your interview tomorrow.”
They’d already been contacted by the local news stations. Shauna had given her cell number to all of them. She’d answered the questions during their initial conversation with the county sheriff, which had frustrated the man to no end. It was definitely laughable.
Playing the silent incompetent had quickly grown tiring. But he’d sat there, letting Shauna do all the talking. Seeming in control. It wouldn’t be long now. Just a matter of days and he could stop acting. They’d sell the rest of the Adams property, have the cash in the bank, control of the kid’s trust fund, and all the ties to his small-town past working in stalls ankle deep in horse manure would be broken.
“What if they snatch Lauren back? Or decide to kill us in our sleep?”
“That’s being slightly dramatic, dear. If Sloane—no matter which one—wanted to kill us, I imagine he could have accomplished that easily tonight. I’m sure both of them have had enough practice with a gun not to miss. And whoever was there had every opportunity. The man restrained himself from hitting Tory when they were squirming on the ground together.” He remembered the power of pulling the trigger and watching the blood spread across her blond hair. The ground had darkened as it pooled beneath the yellow halo.
Knowing that he’d been in control of Tory’s life excited him. His only regret was not moving closer. Had she known she was dying? Or was shooting her in the head as instantaneous as they claimed?
Then again, the surprise on Sloane’s face had been priceless. That was where he’d really been watching. If it had been John, why was he so affected by the measly death of a day-care worker? Hadn’t he seen death hundreds of times over while in the military?
Shauna was wringing her hands again and reaching for the phone. “They could find that girl’s boyfriend and force him to admit that we hired him. He’s still missing, you know.”
He wrapped her skinny fingers within his fists. “I couldn’t take care of him tonight. John or Brian—whoever was helping Alicia—was fighting him when I walked out with the money.” He kissed her fingertips instead of squeezing to demand she stop. “I’m sure Tory’s boyfriend is getting as far away from Aubrey, Texas, as possible. And if not, I can convince him to work for us a bit longer.”
“Why didn’t you take care of them all? You said you would. That was the plan. You said it wouldn’t be a problem for you to shoot them and make it look like self-defense.”
God, she was tiresome. “Shauna, neither of us could predict that Alicia would find the kid. I still don’t know how they did.”
“They probably followed you, you fool.” She jerked her fingers from his and circled the room where not four hours ago they’d gone over the plan while having a glass of wine to soothe her nerves.
“Why don’t you have another drink before we head to bed, sweetheart?” He poured another scotch, hating to part with any drop of it, but knowing she’d pass out sooner if he did. “You’ll have to look your best for the local talk shows tomorrow. Remember, darling, you’re a hero.”
Before handing her the drink, he faked a passionate kiss, pretending it was Tory pressed against him. She sipped and he let his hands caress her skin, drawing his thumbs across her protruding collarbone.
It would be so easy to be rid of his annoying problem.
All he’d have to do was squeeze.
Chapter Nineteen
“I sure hope the air conditioner works in there. Especially if we’re stuck inside all day. It’s going to be another scorcher.” Alicia wiped the sweat from under her neck, leaving the men gawking at each other.
Joking about the good old days might smooth things over between John and Brian, but it was so long ago.... What kind of memory would her daughter have of this? How would she ever let Lauren out of her sight again? Kids getting sunburned on the banks of the creek didn’t compare to your day-care teacher being shot in front of you by a person who you thought of as a grandparent.
Keep a lid on it. Don’t fall apart or John will check you into the psych ward for observation.
Alicia could only stare at her shaking hands. In fact, there was a tremor throughout her entire body that wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t control the fright that was bubbling somewhere close to the fear that she’d never see her daughter again. She broke into a trot, heading in the direction John had parked.
God above, please keep my legs steady enough so I don’t fall flat on my face.
She needed to be alone for a few minutes before diving into whatever had kept her father-in-law inside that barn. There was so much to take in that her mind went blank. Her only thought was to take one step at a time. Put her tennis shoe on the ground without turning her ankle and without tripping and falling. One step. Another step.
When she reached the car, she dropped her head against the cool metal of the roof, locked her knees in place and refused to cry.
“Don’t lose it. You’ll be okay.” She’d chanted those words often enough in the past four years.
But she was far from okay. Tory was dead and her daughter had witnessed the woman’s murder. Could she force herself to be in control? She’d done it before—she had to do it again. There wasn’t a choice.
She turned around, leaning on the car and twisting her knotted hair into a tighter mess. It just took so much concentration to pretend. Constantly shoving the images of the night’s events aside made her draw on a strength she hadn’t used since Dwayne’s funeral.
Her fingers were hot against her face as she scrubbed her eyes and held her breath for a moment. There was nothing there. Nothing left to draw from. After her husband’s death, she’d replenished her empty heart by clinging to his daughter. And Roy had clung to them both.
What could she do? Think of something else.
The fight between Brian and John had taken her straight back to refereeing them in their teens. Even with all this stress, those happy days brought a smile. The brothers had bloody lips. She’d witnessed a restraint in John that had never been there in high school. He’d done his best to get the better of Brian back then.
Maybe he was as exhausted as she felt. Her short nap had only made her more tired. But it was more sleep than John had achieved. And she hadn’t fought a giant of a man earlier or had an emotional encounter with her twin.
Nope, she’d just left her daughter in
the hands of murderers. That was all she’d accomplished today. “Dear Lord.” Her eyes burned with the hint of tears. Focus on something else. You can’t do this each time you think of Lauren.
“You okay?”
At first glance, she thought John had followed her. The voice was the same. But Brian was close to her elbow, then patting her shoulder. Brian, her longtime friend.
“John’s taking a look around. Hop in, I’m moving the car into the barn.” He walked around the hood, the moon shining on his new “high and tight” haircut.
That was what John had called it in high school when Mabel had shorn his head with the ancient hair clippers his dad owned. “High and tight, Miss Mabel. Not one of those jarhead trims,” he’d said.
She took a deep breath, wiped her eyes again and stood straight, then asked Brian, “Did he tell you what happened out there tonight?”
“The bare basics.” He leaned on the roof opposite her. “I’m sorry.”
“I really wish things were different, you know?” She slapped the car hard enough to make her hand sting. “Ow, darn it.”
They both laughed—kind of. So he feels just as weird as I do.
“I made a pass at you the night of the fire, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“I pretended to be my brother for some reason. Right?”
“Yes. The guys dared you to find out if you and Johnny kissed the same, since you were physically identical.”
“We wore the same jeans, boots and jackets that night? That’s the reason no one knew which one of us left when. But you didn’t need a kiss to know I wasn’t him. How did you always know?”
“I’m not sure. But I’ve been able to tell you apart since the first day on the bus. You have two completely different attitudes about everything.”
“I know. But that’s not it. We can act like each other when we want to.” He raised his brows, dipping his chin to his chest. The twins’ longtime gesture to let her know that she was behind the curve.
“What do you think it is? Just tell me, please. Or do you really know?” Of course she was curious. She’d never been able to put her finger on the reason.
He tapped the hood with his finger a couple of times. Nothing dramatic, just a pause while he made up his mind. “I guess it’s about time somebody set you two straight. Shoot. John looks at you differently. Always has.”
“Like how?”
“Alicia, honey, my brother’s been in love with you since he laid eyes on your skinny chicken legs in sixth grade.” He got in the car. “If you need to hit someone, I recommend John.”
She followed to the driver’s side and bent to the open window. “I’m not going to hit you. I hardly believe a word out of your mouth.” She laughed. On purpose, to cover her nervousness that Brian might actually be right. “Let him know I need a minute to think. That’s why I came out here.”
“I overheard Mom talking to Dad about it once. Way back in junior high, she told him you’d make a good daughter-in-law someday.”
“There is no way on God’s green earth that John Sloane has always been in love with me. We’re friends. Same as you and me.” She playfully gave a soft shove to his shoulder. “Stop foolin’ around, Brian. He left, for gosh sakes. Just joined the navy and never looked back.”
A sadness turned his playfulness into a death shroud.
“Alicia?” He caught her hand, stopping her from walking away.
She searched the stars for the strength to face him. She knew he wasn’t John. He was right; somehow even their touch was different to her. But his voice, combined with the same haircut, made it hard to remember. And there was something in the way he’d said her name and held her hand that tugged at her heart.
“Yes?” She didn’t bend down. She couldn’t take him feeling sorry for her. She’d start crying for certain and lose it again.
“Give him a chance, will ya?”
Brian released her, started the car and pulled away.
Give him a chance?
“To do what?” she asked the retreating car.
She watched Brian pull into the barn and John shut the doors. Her legs wobbled under her, so she plopped to the hard, dry earth. Give him a chance? A chance to keep her out of jail? A chance to rescue Lauren? A chance to save her life? A chance to break her heart again?
Their time for chances had long passed. Twelve years ago the opportunity for chances had come and gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.
Chapter Twenty
Alicia had one objective, and that was to get her daughter back in her arms and keep her safe. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.
She leaned back and rested on her elbows, then lay down on the sun-shriveled stalks of Johnson grass, folding her arms under her head. She could tell herself over and over again that nothing else mattered. She could spell it with giant capital letters and try to believe she was telling herself the truth.
But she wasn’t.
John mattered. The shock and hurt she’d seen in him. The way he’d held her. The way they’d kissed. Lord, was it just yesterday that they’d been at Roy’s house and escaped the police chief by climbing into the tree?
“Good. Grief.” So much had happened since John had come home. There was no way he loved her. No way. He couldn’t. Could he?
“No way,” she shouted to the stars. Brian had to be wrong. Either way, it didn’t matter. Not now. They all had one objective, and that was to get Lauren back.
A soft breeze blew the treetops at the edge of the field, but it was the sound of feet crunching the dying grass that made her jerk to a sitting position.
“Did Brian upset you? Are you all right? I heard you cry out and—” John said, out of breath. He must have sprinted from the barn door.
“Of course I am. I was just...just...” She couldn’t tell him she’d been weighing what she valued and he’d come in the top two. She wasn’t ready for that. “Were you watching me?”
The arch of his brows expressed an emphatic duh without uttering the word. Classic Sloane-twin look. Seeing it twice in ten minutes made her feel slightly inadequate to deal with him. He bent at the waist and leaned on his knees, clearly tired. Still dragging air into his lungs.
“Just how long has it been since you had sleep?”
“I don’t need sleep.”
“Nonsense. I bet Brian can handle things until Dev arrives. Whatever occupied Roy’s attention can wait a couple of hours.” She gathered her feet under her, but before she could push off the ground, John’s hands spanned her waist and he lifted her skyward.
Her toes dangled, touching nothing except air. Instead of just letting her drop to the earth, he drew her chest to his and let her slide to a disappointing halt. She stayed there with her hands on his shoulders, his sneaking around to her back. “I go without sleep a lot in my line of work.”
“I, um... But you... John?”
“What?” His lips were very close.
Too close. There was too much between them to just pick up where they’d left off before their argument at graduation. Darn Brian and his silly ideas about love. Did either of them even remember that horrible, public argument? Or remember that she’d loved and married another man?
Not if the way he’s holding you is any indication.
“Did you want to ask me something?” he teased through a grin.
“You can let go of me now.” She firmly tugged on his forearms. Nice, muscled with just the right amount of fuzz on them. As often as she’d been around the house with Brian, she’d never noticed that before.
It was basically the same body, and yet Brian walking around the house without his shirt made her feel like her brother was home. This one? Well, the body under her fingertips, the thighs snug to her thighs... The chest her breasts were flattened against caused every part
of her to hum. And parts that had been asleep since Dwayne had gone began to stir awake.
John released her. Almost. At the last moment, he spun her around, keeping her back to his front, his arm circling her waist again.
“What are you doing?”
“There’s no hurry,” he whispered in her ear. “And I have something to say.”
She tugged at the vise grip around her middle. It didn’t hurt, but he wasn’t budging. “You can’t tell me while you’re looking at me?”
“Exactly.”
No more. Oh, goodness, not a confession. I’m not ready.
“So hurry up, then. Brian’s waiting.”
“Right.” He shifted, taking her with him. Facing the edge of the field instead of the shaft of light peeking beneath the double barn door.
“We aren’t kids anymore, Johnny. You can let me go. I won’t run away. You’re a grown man and should be able to say what you want. You do realize that we’re both thirty. Adults, right? And that I’ll listen to whatever you have to say?”
“The thing is, Alicia, I don’t think I can honestly look at you when you answer. I need to know something before we go any further, and now’s as good a time as later to finish the conversation.” His hold on her relaxed and his hand trembled. “I understand if you thought I’d set the fire all those years. But can you believe me now? Do you believe me?”
He’s afraid?
Looking at the treetops and the sinking moon was much easier than the temptation of his handsome face. So she stayed. Encircled by his arms, feeling safe. Filling her heart so she could go forward.
“At first, I didn’t think either one of you could have done it. And thought it had been an accident even when Brian said he thought he’d put the fire out and other accusations flew around town. Life went on.” Her voice didn’t sound rattled any longer. “Until Dwayne died and Brian started coming around to help out, we never talked about it. When he told me that you’d been drunk and must have left the fire going, well, I didn’t believe it but couldn’t tell him why.”