by Darcy Burke
“I was just telling her that,” Dad said.
Maggie dropped a marigold into the ground. “If you guys are going to harass me about my job, I’m leaving and you can finish this yourselves.”
Mom laughed. “You’re always so sensitive!”
Maggie patted dirt around the gold flower and threw her mother an irritated glance. Her phone vibrated in her back pocket. She pulled her right glove off and pulled it out. A 911 text from her service. Taking off her other glove, she stood. “I have to return this call.”
Thankful for the reprieve, she went into the house and was immediately assaulted by Mom’s little Yorkshire-Maltese mixes, Sonny and Cher. They ran around her feet barking until she leaned over to pet them both. Appeased, they flopped on the floor and stared up at her as she called the service back. “This is Maggie Trent.”
“Dr. Trent, we got a call from Ryan Dillinger. He says he’s feeling pretty bad and would like to see you today, if possible.”
Ryan was a relatively new patient. He’d lost his job several months ago and had recently broken up with his girlfriend. He was suffering from depression, and Dr. Innes had prescribed an antidepressant, but Maggie was providing the therapy. “Sure.” She looked at the clock on her mother’s microwave. “Have him meet me at the clinic at one.”
“Will do. He sounded pretty rough.”
A thread of anxiety wound down Maggie’s spine. In the two months since she’d returned to work, she hadn’t had to deal with anything too depressing. But she knew it was coming. Maybe it wouldn’t turn out as badly as it had with Alex—God, she hoped not—but helping people wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. While she’d known what she was getting into with this career, she hadn’t anticipated that other people’s problems would affect her so much. Mom had warned her they would, but as with most things, Maggie hadn’t listened.
“Thanks for letting me know.” She ended the call and turned to go back outside. Her eye caught her purse, and she paused at the threshold. She looked into the yard, saw her parents making out, and turned away from the slider. The tumult inside her grew until she heard a buzzing in her ears. She dug into her purse for her pillbox and pulled out a Xanax. Without overthinking, she popped it into her mouth and took a swig from the water bottle next to her purse to wash it down.
She closed her eyes and counted to three before making as much noise as possible opening the door. By the time she got to the yard, her parents had stopped kissing—how did they do that when Mom was supposedly seeing someone? Maggie shook her head and worked to clear her thoughts before she started to therapize her parents. Therapize? Kyle’s word. She liked that word. She liked him. Yes, think about Kyle.
She went back to work on the flowerbed and mostly tuned out her parents, who’d moved on to discussing Rowan’s girlfriend. Soon, Maggie felt relaxed, good, happy almost.
It was probably the Xanax, but she thought—no, she hoped—it was maybe because of Kyle, too.
Chapter Five
KYLE WAITED TO search Alex’s office until just about everyone was at lunch on Monday, save Natalie, who typically went later so that she and Paula weren’t gone at the same time. Alex’s office was on the other side of Dad’s. It was smaller than the others but had the best view of the valley. They hadn’t hired anyone to fill his position as director of communications—right now they were hiring freelancers to take care of any writing projects. Kyle suspected Dad just couldn’t replace him yet.
He pressed his lips together. He was going to find out how Alex had gotten those drugs, and prosecuting the person who’d sold them to him was going to help Dad move on.
A search of Alex’s room at home yesterday had yielded nothing about Shane, so Kyle hoped he’d find something today. He sat down behind the desk and methodically went through each drawer. Nothing. Frustration mounting, he turned to the credenza behind the desk and looked through the hanging files.
“What’re you doing?”
Kyle jumped, nearly closing his fingers in the drawer. “Shit! Natalie, you scared me.”
She moved into the office, her mouth forming an O. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to. My bad.”
He blew air out and took a deep breath to regulate his suddenly racing heart. He didn’t want his family to know what he was doing, but maybe Natalie could help him. “I’m looking for something, actually.”
“Can I help?” She walked around the desk. “You know I can probably find anything.”
“That’s true, but this isn’t work-related. Can you keep a secret? And I mean a real secret—this is important. This isn’t gossip-type stuff.”
She tipped her head to the side, her dark eyes narrowing slightly. “Have you ever known me to engage in office gossip? I respect your family too much, and I value my job more than anything.”
“I know. I just wanted to be clear. I completely trust that you won’t say anything, which is why I’m going to confide in you. But I had to say it, okay?”
She exhaled. “I get you.” She crossed her fingers over her heart. “Your secret is safe with me.”
He smiled. “Excellent. I’m trying to find out who sold Alex the drugs he used to kill himself.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my. Why do you think he bought them from someone?”
“No one would’ve prescribed them to him with his medical history. He had to have gotten them illegally.” He went back to the file drawer and continued, but everything in there was a work-related project.
Natalie perched on the edge of the desk. The position hiked her skirt a little and exposed a length of very toned, very tan legs. “What are you looking for?”
“Anything really, but I’m particularly searching for the name Dane Hawkins or Shane Dawkins.”
“Wait, isn’t Shane the guy who visited you Friday?”
He glanced up at her. “Yeah. He’s an old friend, and he has some shady contacts.” Kyle had no plans to divulge his gambling background to Natalie. One secret was more than enough to share. “I think it’s possible he could’ve hooked Alex up.”
Her dark brows drew together. “Now that you mention it, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that guy before.”
Kyle turned sharply, letting the drawer close. “You have?”
She chewed her lip. “Yeah, I think he’s been here before.”
Adrenalin pumped through him. “Do you remember when?”
“Maybe late last year? Right around the holidays, I think. Yeah, the office was decorated.”
The timing sounded right, as Alex had killed himself in early February. Fury burned Kyle’s insides. He longed to beat answers out of Shane, but that wouldn’t help anything. He breathed like Maggie had told him to. Slowly, he calmed down, but determination gripped him. He’d get to the bottom of this with Shane. Hopefully with Maggie’s help.
He’d thought of her a lot over the weekend. Friday’s dinner had been fun, flirty even. He’d wanted to kiss her at the end but realized that probably wasn’t smart. He wasn’t even sure she wanted him to. She’d flirted back, but flirting wasn’t following through.
“Is that helpful at all?” Natalie asked, interrupting his thoughts and reminding him she was still there.
“Yeah, sorry. Got wrapped up in what I want to do next. Thanks for your help, really.”
“What are you going to do?”
He stood up from the chair. “Crucify Shane.”
She cringed as she got up from the desk. She touched his arm and looked at him intently. “Be careful. He looked like a pretty tough guy.”
“I will be, thanks.” He moved around the desk and paused at the threshold of the office. “Will you close the door behind you? And remember, this is between us. I don’t want Dad to know what I’m doing. If this goes nowhere, he’ll be disappointed, and I’m trying to give him some closure, not make him feel worse.”
She nodded. “Got it. I’m happy to help you any way that I can.” She crossed the office and met him at the door. Her gaze locked on his, conveying her commitment. �
�Really, Kyle, I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks.” He smiled at her and went back to his office and closed the door. Once inside, he called Maggie’s office and Monotone Man answered. Geez, he really needed her cell phone number. Kyle used his real name this time and got right through to her since she was at lunch.
“No fake Game of Thrones names today? How disappointing.”
He smiled at the warmth in her tone. “I can call back as Jaime Lannister if you like.”
She laughed. “This is fine.”
“Actually, it’d be better if you gave me your cell phone number so I can bypass that snore of a receptionist.”
She laughed again. “Baylor is a nice guy.”
“Baylor? That’s a college, not a name.”
More laughter. “Stop, please. Why did you call?”
“I have news. Someone in my office remembers Shane coming here to see Alex last winter.”
“Oh my God. What are you going to do?”
He was thrilled by the shock and excitement in her voice. “Confront him. Do you want to go with me?”
“Kyle, is that safe? I don’t know . . .”
“We’ll go to the gym where he works. Very public. It’s just a conversation. You’re free on Wednesday afternoon, right?”
“Your knowledge of my schedule is a bit frightening, you know that?”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll forget at some point. I’m a guy; we don’t remember that kind of stuff.”
“If you say so. It’s still unsettling.”
He spun his chair and looked out the window. “Is it? I thought we’d established I’m not a stalker or anything else creepy. Didn’t you have a good time Friday?”
She sighed. “I did. And you aren’t creepy.”
He smiled. “So Wednesday. I’ll pick you up at two? The gym’s in Northeast Portland, so we’ll be gone all afternoon, probably have to pick up dinner in town to avoid rush hour before we head back.”
“I don’t know. You don’t really need me, right?”
He heard the hesitation in her voice and sat forward in his chair, wanting to convince her. But did he need her there? “I’d like you there. We’re in this together.” Or so he hoped. He liked having a partner. It kept this endeavor from being too dark.
Silence answered him, and his muscles tightened. “You’re good at talking me off the ledge too,” he said. “You will undoubtedly come in handy in case I try to do something stupid.”
She made a sound, a small breath, not quite the sigh she’d made before. “Okay, sure. Pick me up at two.”
He smiled into the phone. “You got it.”
“Bye.”
“See you.” He ended the call, glad that she’d be with him. Though he’d used the excuse to convince her, she might actually need to talk him down. Because if Shane had supplied Alex with the drugs, Kyle didn’t know what he would do.
AT FIVE MINUTES to two, Maggie went outside to wait for Kyle on her porch. There was no way she was giving him even a glimpse of her house. That would ignite too many questions, none of which she wanted to answer—even to herself. At one minute till, he pulled into her driveway, and she strode toward the car.
He jumped out and raced around to open her door. He smiled at her, making her stomach do a little flip. “Eager beaver today, eh?”
“Just ready to do this.”
He nodded and shut the door after she climbed inside. When he was back in the driver seat, he looked over at her. “Music or no music? I tend to like music in the background.”
She set her purse on the floor by her feet. “Music’s fine.”
“Pop, rock, jazz?”
She laughed. “Okay, your gentlemanly thoughtfulness is going a little overboard, don’t you think? It doesn’t matter. Whatever you have is fine.”
“I’ll let the radio decide.” He turned it on, and a Bruno Mars song filtered through the speakers. He adjusted the volume to where they could hear the music but still talk over it and be heard. “Good?”
“Fine.” She smiled at him, surprised at how thoughtful he was and how great his mom must be to have instilled that in him. “Your mom must be pretty special.”
He backed out into the street. “What?” He glanced at her. “Oh, the gentlemanly thing. Actually, the music stems from my siblings. With so many of us, there were tons of arguments growing up. And background noise bothers one of my brothers and used to bother one of my sisters, so I just got in the habit of asking.”
“That’s still really sweet.” She looked at him as he drove. “Is that your brother with Asperger’s—Evan?”
Kyle flicked her a curious glance. “Alex told you about that? Yeah, I imagine he would. Evan’s auditory processing isn’t the best. Background noise makes it hard for him to engage.”
“And your sister has sensory processing disorder, right?” She felt comfortable discussing this since it seemed to be information that Kyle had planned to share.
He nodded. “Sara. She and I are pretty close. When she was younger, loud noise gave her trouble, but she worked through it. My parents did a lot of different therapies with her and Evan.” He shot her an inquisitive look. “Alex probably told you that, too.”
He had, but hearing it from Kyle in this setting, outside of therapy, was different. “That’s great that your family is so supportive and proactive.” She looked out the window as they drove through Newberg. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
“What do you mean?”
“How are you going to address the drugs with Shane?”
He glanced at her, appearing a bit perplexed. “I’m going to ask him.”
She shook her head. “No, no, you’ll immediately put him on the defensive. I think you should ask him if he can get you drugs. Tell him I want them—that’s why I’m there.”
He stopped at a light and looked at her more fully, his gaze appreciative. “Aren’t you a little conniver?” A roguish smile curved his lips. “I like that. Very smooth idea. Much better than my scorched earth method. I should have come up with that to begin with—see, it’s good that I have you along.”
She understood why he perhaps hadn’t thought ahead. “I get it,” she said. “You’re coming from an emotional place. It makes sense that you want to go in there with guns blazing.”
He refocused on the road as the light turned green. “But I won’t. Thanks to you.”
She wanted to understand exactly what sort of emotional place he was coming from. Was it just the gambling? Alex’s death? Or had this Shane person maybe meant more to him at some point—a friendship gone bad? “How did you meet Shane?”
“The gym. I lived over in Northeast back then. Fresh out of culinary school. I worked at a couple of different restaurants.”
“How did he become your bookie?”
He cast her a sidelong glance. “I don’t know. We hung out. We went to the racetrack a few times. Things just sort of developed. He liked my ribs.”
An image of his cut abs—and she was sure they were cut—rose in her mind, sending a spike of desire straight through her belly. She turned in the seat to look at him. “He what?”
In profile, his grin was every bit as sexy as it was full-on. “My pork ribs—the seasoning, really. I made them for a neighborhood barbecue once, and I couldn’t get rid of Shane after that. You know, I haven’t made those ribs in a really long time. Do you like ribs?”
She was pretty sure he was deflecting. He didn’t want to talk about his past with Shane, or more importantly, how he’d become a gambling addict. Although she was curious, she wouldn’t press him. For now.
She resituated herself to face forward. “Yeah, I like ribs. Are you offering to make them for me some time?” Yikes, she hadn’t meant to flirt with him today. She’d had a conscious conversation with herself—and no, that didn’t make her nuts—to keep their field trip strictly platonic.
“I will absolutely make them for you some time.” He turned off the highway and cut over to the
freeway that would take them into Portland. “I’ve been contemplating what to put on the menu at The Alex, and I think I have my first contender.”
It warmed Maggie’s heart to know that Alex had left a lasting legacy. “I think it’s so great that you guys named the place after him.”
“It was Sara’s idea. The restaurant will be The Arch and Fox.”
“All of the Archer brewpubs have Arch in the title, don’t they?” she asked.
“Yep, and we all have animals associated with us. Alex’s was a fox. I think it was because he was sly. Or maybe it was just the X in his name.”
She was fascinated to hear more about this family she almost felt like she knew through Alex’s therapy sessions. “What’s your animal?”
“A horse. I loved them when I was a kid.”
“Really?” She’d been obsessed with horses, but they’d never been able to afford lessons or anything. She’d only ridden one a couple of times with Girl Scouts. “Me, too.”
He smiled at her. “What about now?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. They’re beautiful animals.”
“Smart, too. I rode until I started playing sports. That took up too much time.”
“Do you miss riding?”
“Sometimes.” He changed the radio station, presumably because a commercial had come on. “If you wanted to ride, I could probably arrange something. A friend of mine from high school owns a riding facility.”
There he went talking about the future. Ribs, horseback riding. They weren’t dating. They weren’t even really friends. Were they? “You need to stop planning things with me.”
“Why?” He pulled onto the freeway.
“Because we’re going to get to the bottom of this drug thing, and then we’ll be done.”
“Why?”
“Because . . .” I can’t be in a relationship with the brother of the guy who died on my watch. “Because we just need to be.”
He cast her a sly glance, and she thought maybe he should’ve been the fox. “What are you afraid of, Maggie? That we might like each other a little too much?”
Yes, exactly that. “Maybe I’m dating someone.”