No Turning Back

by HelenKay Dimon

  “I refuse to be one of those people who talks about the weather, but holy fuck, this part of the country needs to pick a temperature and stick with it for five days in a row.” Taking a hint from dogs everywhere, Beck shook off the rain before dumping his coat on the back of the nearest kitchen chair. “And stop smiling before I punch you.”

  Callen slipped in behind Beck, but not before stomping his boots on the mat just outside the door. “Give the man a break, Beck. It took him forever to have a morning after with Leah. Let him enjoy it for five seconds.”

  These two could kill a guy’s ego with all this it-took-forever talk. “It’s been, like, ten days.”

  Beck grabbed the coffee pot. “Clearly you’re slowing down.”

  “I thought he did fine.” Leah’s voice from the doorway on the opposite side of the room had them all turning.

  Damn, just seeing her again made Declan’s lower half twitch. The wet hair and boxers, borrowed from him and wildly oversized on her, only increased her hotness. No make-up and shapeless tee brought out her natural beauty. Pink cheeks and bright eyes. And those long lean legs. Barefoot or spiky heels, those were amazing and Declan knew how good they felt wrapped around his waist.

  Even Callen took an extra long look at her, letting his gaze bounce down to the floor before meeting Declan’s scowl head-on. “Sorry, but come on. I’m human,” he mumbled.

  Declan understood. He’d been inside her, all over her all night, and it wasn’t enough. The itch to touch her, press his mouth against her bare skin, had him slipping behind the butcher’s block. Getting hard in the middle of the kitchen with his brothers watching was not Declan’s idea of a good time.

  Beck saluted her with his now full mug. “Good morning, Ms. Baron.”

  “Please call me Leah.”

  Her smile was so full and genuine that it lit the room on a cloudy day. It lit a fuse inside Declan, started a burning until he thought about asking his brothers to leave. That energy that exhausted him in the bedroom pulled him in now. He’d seen it even that first day in the diner. There was something special about her. The tug between them made him forget about her agenda and all the trouble following him around. He came to Sweetwater craving normal. Now he knew he needed more—passion and a woman who tested and trusted him would do.

  “Thank you, by the way.” Beck motioned to the chair across from him at the table and put a fresh cup of coffee in front of her.

  She sat down, curling her legs under her in that twisty pretzel way only women could manage. A small smile played on her lips as she reached for the sugar. “For?”

  “The scene at the school.”

  Enjoying the homey moment and not wanting to ruin the comfortable scene, Declan piped in. “Not now, Beck.”

  “It’s okay.” Leah waved Declan off, her smile never wavering. “You’re welcome, but I’m the one who’s sorry anyone had to step in at all. My dad is . . . conflicted.”

  Callen sprawled in the seat at the head of the table, leaving Declan the only one standing. “You ever consider law school? Because that was a careful lawyer-type answer.”

  Beck rolled his eyes and he refilled the coffee cups around the table then sat down. “I think I should be offended.”

  “Want to hear a lawyer joke?” Her eyes twinkled as he looked at all of them over the top of her steaming mug.

  Once Callen’s laughter started it took a few seconds for him to stop. “I’m liking you more every second.”

  Declan stood a short distance away and took it all in. His brothers joking with Leah. Everyone sitting down and sharing a quiet moment without fighting. The steady hum of happiness flowing through the room. He’d never been one to search for contentment. The Army gave him discipline and his mother taught him about honor. But the incredible sense of rightness he could get used to.

  Leah’s voice broke through the steady chatter. “You okay over there, Declan? That look on your face . . .”

  There was no question what was happening here. She owned him, she had him feeling hopeful in a way he never considered possible before. Declan skipped all of that and went for an eyebrow wiggle. “I had a good night.”

  Leah burst out laughing. “Let’s keep it G-rated.”

  “That’s a shame.” Callen stopped spinning his mug on the table when the doorbell dinged. “Who the hell could that be?”

  All that pulsing satisfaction came crashing down around Declan with the unexpected chime. He knew late-night and early-morning surprise visits were never good. He’d been there for the calls from Charlie that always came at odd times. At first Mom begged him to come home. Then she begged him to stay away.

  “Well, let’s not all rush to get it.” Beck got up from the table, making enough noise to telegraph how much of a nuisance he thought just the act of standing was. He walked through the kitchen and far dining room doorway until he could see out the family room windows at the front of the house.

  Declan saw Beck stop and called out. “What is it?”

  “The police.”

  Leah’s wonderfully warm smile fell. “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m not kidding.” Beck exhaled as he glanced at them over his shoulder, his gaze lingering that extra beat on Leah.

  Her shoulders jerked and her back went ramrod straight. “I didn’t—”

  Declan came over to stand behind her, hoping his presence would calm her down and show his brothers his unyielding support. “No one said you did.”

  She played with the pink sugar packets flipping them around and stacking them in little piles. When Clay Darber and the mystery guy from the meeting stepped into the kitchen behind Beck, she slipped and ripped one of the packets in half. White powder spilled over the table and she rushed to cover it with her palm.

  A heavy weight descended on the room. It was as if the air swelled and the oxygen got sucked away. Drawing this out would only make it worse.

  Declan put a hand on her shoulder and felt the energy vibrate under his palm. “Chief Darber and whoever you are. Come in.”

  The chief’s step came to a halt as he glanced around the table. “Leah? I didn’t expect to find you here this morning.”

  Callen leaned back in his chair. “If you looked you would have found her here last night, too.”

  “Spoken by someone without an ounce of tact,” Beck mumbled.

  Leah shrugged. “But he’s not wrong. I was here last night and plan to be here much more often.”

  Through the haze of frustration and swirling panic of the room, Declan’s muscles relaxed. He could handle whatever fallout came so long as he knew she planned to side with them. She’d staked that claim last night at the school and in his bed, but standing this close, feeling the certainty of the words through the simple touch that bound them, meant everything.

  Shifting as he stood and clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, the chfief cleared his throat. “This is—”

  “I’ve got this.” The mystery man stepped up.

  Declan pegged the guy’s age around Callen’s. They shared a similar stony affect. Where Callen had loosened up and started to smile over the last few days, this guy looked like his mouth had settled into a permanent flat line.

  Hands behind his back and squinting as if he needed sunglasses inside, the guy’s gaze traveled around the room as he nodded. There was something familiar in the way he held himself. The dark hair and eyes fit in around here, but desperation radiated off of him despite the economy of movements and blank expression.

  Callen jumped in before the unwanted guest could say anything. “He’s Special Agent Walker Reeves of the FBI.”

  They all shifted and even the air stilled as they waited for more information. For a second the only noise in the room came from the steady click of the ancient wall clock behind Clay.

 
Declan debated playing it cool but the narrowed eyes around the room told him the confusion didn’t run one way. “Clue us in here. You two know each other?’

  Callen stood up and walked to the sink. He dropped the mug in the bottom and let it spin and clank before he turned around to face he crowd again. “Reeves has been sniffing around for a few months now.”

  The guy finally spoke up. “The word you’re looking for is investigating.”

  “What exactly?” Beck asked.

  “Fraud,” the agent said.

  Declan swore under his breath. He hadn’t realized his hand tightened on Leah’s shoulder until her fingers touched against his.

  She held on as she blew out a long breath. “Come on. Charlie is dead.”

  Reeves’ eyebrow lifted. “I didn’t say it was Charlie.”

  “He means me,” Callen said in a tone so flat it came out as a low rumble.

  This time Reeves nodded, just once and punctuated with the quick head bob. “Mostly.”

  The chief shifted just enough to bring everyone’s attention back to him. He fiddled with his belt, trying to stretch it over his round stomach and failing miserably. “Leah, what you said last night resonated.”

  “It should have.” Her lazy demeanor vanished. She sat up straight and her words dragged out through a clenched jaw.

  “It’s okay, Leah,” Declan said even as if he wondered if his life would ever be okay.

  “No, it’s not.” Her anger snapped and crackled as she aimed her venom at the non-Hanovers in the room. “The phone rang three times this morning and every single one of the calls has included a threat.” She peeked up at Declan. “You don’t have to hang up fast or pretend it’s not happening. I can tell by the way your face gets all pinched that someone is spewing hate on the other end.”

  Beck stretched out a hand toward her across the table, as if to offer some sort of comfort. “You get used to them.”

  “No, you don’t.” Callen and Declan said at the same time.

  “There have been letters. A knife, Clay. Someone sent them a knife.” She pointed in the general direction of the front of the house. “Did you see the burn mark? They weren’t roasting marshmallows. Someone did that. Walked up, dragged their rocking chair to the grass and set it on fire. Someone in this perfect, loyal town you love so much.”

  Under the rapid fire of information, with each new piece, Clay’s race reddened. “Why wasn’t I contacted about any of this?”

  Callen leaned against the sink with his hands balanced on the counter behind him. “We weren’t convinced you didn’t send the threats or lead the burning posse.”

  Clay’s previously red face morphed into more of a purple. “Look—”

  “Exactly how much money did you lose all those years ago, Chief?” Callen asked.

  “Okay. That’s enough.” The special agent pulled special agent rank and held up both hands. “Let’s settle down. If any of these threats happened—”

  From the fury burning in his gut, Declan wondered what color his face was. “You’re saying they didn’t?”

  “No matter who did what, we’ll get to the bottom of it,” Clay said. “The good news for you is Special Agent Reeves is stepping in. This will no longer be about whatever happened in this town and to the people in it years ago. This is a complete investigation by a neutral party of the questions surrounding Charlie’s activities and the trail, if any, to where he parked the stolen money.”

  “He’s not neutral,” Callen said.

  “Excuse me?” Reeves’ response came in an equally calm and deadly tone.

  “Last time we talked you told me you’d made it your mission to see me in jail. Seems to me you’ve made up your mind about my innocence.”

  Reeves’ expression never changed. The guy had the unreadable thing nailed down tight. “Whatever happened previously between us isn’t relevant.”

  Declan didn’t see how that was possible. “How do you figure that?”

  The chief rocked back on his heels. The smirk signaled something annoying to come. “Special Agent Reeves is in charge. You will follow his direction.”

  And there it was. Never mind they hadn’t agreed to anything of the sort and hadn’t done anything wrong, or that there wasn’t a lick of evidence. They’d been convicted without trial once again.

  Declan shook his head. He was getting tired of living under a microscope and even more of having his integrity questioned. “If we don’t?”

  “Then you will find yourself in my jail.”

  Everyone had a point where their temper blew and rationality crashed to the floor. Declan smacked headfirst into his. “Leave.”

  The Special Agent finally showed some emotion when his eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

  “Until you have a warrant or something that permits you to be in this house, you are not welcome. We don’t consent now nor will we ever.”

  The chief looked to Leah. When she didn’t move, his smirk disappeared. “This is a mistake.”

  “Likely not the first we’ll make today.” But it felt right and Declan refused to question why. He’d been trained to trust his judgment and rely on his instincts, and he was doing that now. He wanted these two men out of his house and fast.

  Reeves didn’t move. “I’ll be back.”

  “We can’t wait,” Callen said.

  After a tense standoff of men standing still in front of other men, just willing someone to blink, Reeves turned on his heel and headed for the door. Didn’t say anything or wait for the chief. He just took off with Clay rushing to catch up. Beck followed them to the door.

  Declan didn’t wait to demand answers from his oldest brother, the one clearly keeping as many secrets as Leah. “What was that about?”

  “You just met my federally sanctioned stalker. He’s been all over my business for a while now, interviewing people and digging.” Callen rubbed the back of his neck as he told the story to the ceiling and the floor. Finally, he shot Leah a glance. “Unlike your guy, Reeves does follow my every move. Takes photos and picks through the trash. He hasn’t found anything but he’s not letting that stop him.”

  “The pressure, the accusations.” She shook her head. “It’s relentless, isn’t it?”

  Declan used his thumb to massage the base of her neck. The knot he found there could give him muscle strain. “Welcome to the family. As annoying as the last few minutes were, and they sure as hell were, they do prove I was right about one thing.”

  Beck stepped back into the room. “This should be good.”

  “It doesn’t matter where we live because people like Reeves will be there waiting. So, we may as well stay at Shadow Hill.”

  Looked like they all agreed because they all frowned at the same time.

  Even Leah joined in. “While I like the outcome of you sticking around, your logic is convoluted.”

  Declan switch from kneading to a gentle trail of fingers down her back. “Nothing that a few more hours in bed won’t cure. Join me?”

  She gave him that wait-until-we’re-alone glare. “You could be a bit more subtle in front of your brothers.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  ***

  Later that afternoon the brothers stood around the swing set in the backyard. The rain had cleared and bright sunshine broke out between the white clouds a few minutes after. They’d waited another hour before they trusted the weather to hold long enough to work outside. Now, surrounded by tools and paint cans, they sent a three-man size-’em-up stare at the falling-down metal heap.

  Despite the nip in the air Declan wore a thin T-shirt. His skin still burned from the second morning sex session. With his nerves on edge from the law enforcement visit, Leah took over. She stripped him and rode him on that old mattress and his heartbeat still hadn’
t returned to normal.

  Callen grabbed a wrench and climbed the stepladder to reach the bar across the top. Metal clanged against the loose chain as he worked. “It’s amazing how much more pleasant you are once you’ve had sex.”

  No way was Declan letting the jealous grumbling get to him. “If that’s true, any chance we can find you a woman soon?”

  “I have enough people trying to find me right now, but thanks.”

  Beck stepped over the paint and the tools and settled on standing with his arms crossed and watching as form of brotherly help. “Why didn’t you tell us about him, this Reeves guy?”

  “It would take me a month to tell you about all the people who’ve hunted me down over Charlie.” Callen kept twisting, all his focus on the rusted bolt at the top of the swing.

  “This is different and you know it.” When his brother didn’t respond or even acknowledge the comment, Declan banged on the pole with wooden end of the hammer. “Callen, come on.”

  He pulled back, frowning over the echoing ping. “Damn, that’s annoying.”

  “Which is why I did it.”

  His shoulders fell. Turning, he sat on the top rung of the ladder. “This guy is committed. His investigation feels targeted and outside the scope of his job. I’m not sure what has him so obsessed, but he is.”

  “Any chance Reeves has a lead we don’t know about?” Beck asked.

  “He’s going on the whole Charlie-must-have-money-somewhere thing, which is a popular theory.”

  Beck walked around in circles, still ignoring the work aspect of the afternoon in favor of supervising. “Maybe he has a personal stake? Maybe a relative is one of Charlie’s victims.”

  “Not that I can tell.” Callen looked at Declan. “Now, don’t get all prickly and defensive when I ask this, but is there any chance Leah still has her investigator’s information? There might be a clue in there.”

  Declan thought about the whiteboard and the boxes. The potential for answers was great but he’d just found an uneasy balance with Leah. The idea of messing that up, dredging up all the negatives and dragging them into the light again, gave him a stabbing pain in the chest. “Possibly.”