“It’s at the police chief’s house,” he stressed. If that wasn’t the definition of brass, he didn’t know what was.
“Former police chief,” Brianna corrected. “Look, make an effort, put in an appearance,” she urged. “If you find you can’t put up with it, no one’s going to handcuff you to a railing to make you stay. You’ll be free to go home. But at least give it a chance.”
He shot her a look that was far from promising. “I’ll see.”
“No, you won’t see,” Brianna informed him as if they were discussing something to do with the investigation. “You will.”
“You planning on carrying me in, fireman-style?” he asked, challenging her.
“Not me,” she answered. “But I have brothers and cousins, some of whom are bigger than you. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.” She paused, then tried persuasion again. “Since we’ve been working together, off and on, you’ve always gone in where angels fear to tread. I’ve never thought of you as a coward before.”
“And that’s supposed to get me to come?” he questioned, then jeered, “Telling me that you’re disappointed in me?”
Brianna looked at him for a long moment, as if she was actually considering his question, and then she answered, “Yeah.”
Maybe it was her expression, or just the way she said the word. Or maybe it was just a reaction to the long day they’d put in, traipsing around to different construction sites. But whatever the reason, Jackson started to laugh. Laugh so hard that he had to wait to catch his breath before he could say anything in response. And then, when he finally stopped laughing, he found that he had to stop himself before he took her into his arms and kissed her.
Wouldn’t that have surprised her, he thought, his mouth curving again.
“Okay,” he told her as they went down the back steps to the rear parking lot. “It’s tomorrow, right?”
He knew it was, she thought, but for the sake of resolving this and getting him to come, Brianna answered, “Right.”
“I’ll turn up,” he conceded.
“Great.” She greeted his capitulation with enthusiasm. “I’ll swing by your place early to pick you up. That way you can acclimate yourself slowly to the—”
“Hold it,” Jackson ordered just before he headed over to his car. “Who said anything about you picking me up?”
The expression on her face was the personification of innocence. “I just did.”
“No,” he said flatly.
“Yeah, I did,” she told him, knowing full well that wasn’t what Jackson was referring to. “I just heard me say it.”
He frowned. “I mean no, you’re not picking me up,” he informed her.
Still playing the innocent card, Brianna said, “I don’t mind.”
“But I do,” Jackson retorted. He didn’t care to be treated like a child who needed to be guided and kept in line.
Brianna smiled as she reasoned with him. “Look, if I pick you up tomorrow, you’ll come to the gathering,” she pointed out. “If you’re left to your own devices, who knows what you’ll do?”
He didn’t like her second-guessing him—or being one step ahead, for that matter. “Applying to a new police department comes to mind.”
She treated it like a bluff, even though part of her knew it very well might not be. “You won’t do that. You’re too comfortable here.”
“If I tell you not to come...you’ll still be at my door tomorrow, won’t you?”
Rather than answer, Brianna smiled at him. Broadly.
“I don’t have a choice in this, do I?” he bit off, exasperated.
“Well, you can say no...” she told him, deliberately letting her voice trail off.
Jackson knew exactly what that meant. “But you won’t listen.”
Brianna suppressed a laugh, trying to get him to come around by using humor. “You’re a fast learner.”
His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “If I was a fast learner, I would have worn garlic around my neck the first time I ever laid eyes on you.”
She didn’t think that was the image he was going for. “That’s to ward off vampires.”
“And people with a sense of smell,” he said coldly. “You do have one of those, don’t you?”
Brianna merely smiled at him. She’d worn him down, she thought. At least for tonight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven. We could both use a break from this investigation. And who knows?” she said. “Maybe if we’re not concentrating on the murders, the answers will come to us.”
Jackson wasn’t moved. She heard him mutter something under his breath, but she knew better than to ask him to repeat it. She firmly believed in quitting while she was ahead.
* * *
Because of the intense nature of his work and the hours he put in, Jackson preferred sleeping in on the weekend whenever he could. But because Brianna had threatened to be on his doorstep by eleven, he intended to be long gone from his apartment before then.
Things didn’t exactly go as planned.
After he left the precinct last night, he’d gone to see his father. Even though he knew that more than half the times he visited his father had no idea who he was, Jackson felt that he should be there just in case this was one of those rare days when his father’s mind didn’t disappear into a fog.
As it turned out, his efforts had been rewarded. Ethan’s eyes lit up when Jackson walked into the small room that had become, essentially, his entire world.
“Jackie!” his father cried, beaming. “You came to see me, boy. Is your brother here with you?” he asked, trying to peer around Jackson’s six-foot-two frame.
“He couldn’t make it,” Jackson told his father. “But he sends his love.”
His father nodded, the thick hair that had turned prematurely white years ago falling into his eyes as he accepted the excuse. Ethan pushed his hair back. “As long as he’s well and you’re well, that’s all that counts, Jackie.”
Because of the hour, Jackson’s visit was short. His father’s visit was even shorter. Less than an hour later, the invisible walls of Ethan Muldare’s prison had returned.
Still, Jackson had thought as he went home, his father had been himself for a little while, and those brief visits were precious to him.
He was far from rested the next morning. After getting home, Jackson had spent the rest of the evening reviewing all the facts dealing with the Aurora Hotel that he and Brianna had managed to compile so far.
Because of that, it was hard turning off his mind, even when he finally did fall asleep. He wound up dreaming about the case.
Taking no chances, Jackson wanted to be out of his apartment no later than nine. But he fell behind schedule, mainly because he’d woken up a little after eight—still thinking about the case. Not wanting to lose the thread of what had occurred to him while half-asleep, Jackson jotted down a few notes and got caught up in a theory that was knocking around in his brain.
Realizing that it was later than he was happy about, Jackson quickly showered, shaved and threw on his clothes. He could almost feel the minutes slipping away, even though it was still relatively early.
Because he didn’t want to take a chance getting out even later than it was, Jackson decided to have breakfast at one of the fast-food places in the area.
With that in mind, he grabbed the folder he’d put his notes in and opened the door to make his getaway, confident that he still had plenty of time. After all, Brianna wasn’t going to be here until eleven.
Locking his door, he swung around, still moving and ready to hurry off to his car. That was when he made full-body contact with the person on his doorstep, all but slamming into them.
The folder fell out of his hand, papers scattering at his feet. Stunned, it took Jackson half a second to collect himself. It took him less than that to see that the
person whose body had all but imprinted itself on his was Brianna.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, dropping to his knees to pick up the folder and the pages that had escaped from it before the wind decided to play hide-and-seek with them. “You said you’d be here at eleven.”
As Brianna dropped down to her knees, helping him pick up the pages, she cheerfully responded, “I lied.”
The papers collected, she stood and handed him the ones that she had managed to secure. “But then, you can’t really blame me,” she told him. “I knew you’d try to make an escape.” She smiled at him as she watched him sticking the pages back into the folder. He made no secret of the fact that he was angry at her unexpected appearance. “You’re actually leaving later than I thought you would.”
About to tell her off, saying that he didn’t appreciate her stalking him, Jackson replayed her words in his head.
Scowling, he asked, “You thought I was going to leave earlier than now?”
“Yes.”
That meant that she had to have been waiting for him to open his door. Just how stubborn was this woman?
“How long have you been standing out here?” he demanded.
“Since eight,” she answered simply. “It’s not as bad as you think. I wasn’t really standing out here all that time. I was in my car until about five minutes ago. I’ve got a clear view of your door from where I parked in guest parking. Or rather, double-parked,” she amended, wanting to be strictly truthful. “I had to move the car once to let someone leave, presumably for work, from the way he was dressed when he got into his car.” She paused, then added, “I learned a couple of new words that I’d never heard before.”
Jackson looked at her incredulously. “You really don’t ever give up, do you?”
“I don’t think I know how,” Brianna said honestly. “But in case you’re wondering, I did mean what I said yesterday.”
Jackson looked at her, surrendering. For now.
“You said so much yesterday,” he reminded her, “I really can’t keep track of it all. What are you talking about?”
“What I said about the chief’s gathering,” she told him. “If after you’ve spent some time there, you find that you’ve really had enough and just want to go home, we’ll go.”
She sounded sincere, but he knew better. “Define ‘some time.’”
Her grin returned. “Ah, well, ‘some time’ does mean different things to different people,” she replied loftily, then winked.
The sexy wink distracted him for a moment, but he collected himself quickly. “What does it mean to you?” he asked, trying to pin her down even though by now Jackson figured it was a totally futile effort.
Her smile widened just a little. “Why don’t we just let the morning and early afternoon play itself out and we’ll see?”
The expression on his face told her that he didn’t believe a word she was saying. “In other words, unless I walk out of there and keep walking, I’m stuck.”
“No,” she answered, surprising him because she looked utterly serious now. “All I’m asking is that you give it more than sixty minutes.”
He still didn’t believe her, but because he didn’t think she’d expect him to just give up so easily, he countered with, “Sixty-five.”
“Sixty-five is better,” Brianna answered, and then added as they drove off, “but maybe just a wee bit higher.”
“Maybe,” Jackson grunted, playing along. He’d expected nothing less from the woman.
Chapter 17
Brianna had just made the turn into one of the oldest developments in Aurora when she heard Jackson say, “I had some thoughts about the case.”
“So have I,” Brianna replied, as if he hadn’t been staring out the window, as silent as a tomb, for the last ten minutes.
His tone clearly indicated that he was annoyed. “My point is, shouldn’t we be working on that instead of, you know, partying?”
“Batteries need to be recharged, Muldare,” she said. “And we do what we do so that we can take these occasional breaks and party. Smile, Jackson. This isn’t going to hurt nearly as much as you think.”
As they drove through the residential development, passing a park and finally turning onto Andrew Cavanaugh’s block, Jackson took in his surroundings. There were cars parked on both sides of the street as far as the eye could see.
He let out a low whistle. “Looks like there are a lot of parties going on today.”
“Not exactly,” Brianna told him. Finding an open spot right near the corner, she quickly pulled in.
“What are you talking about? There are cars parked all over the place.”
Brianna came to a full stop, pulling up the parking brake. “I know.”
Jackson suddenly understood what she was saying. He looked at her in disbelief. “Just how many people are coming to this so-called gathering?”
“A lot,” she answered cheerfully, getting out of the car. “I don’t think that Uncle Andrew ever took a head count.”
Jackson left the car, moving in almost slow motion as he tried to come to terms with what she was telling him. It didn’t seem possible. “Wouldn’t the chief have to know how much food to buy?”
“We all take turns contributing toward these parties—it wouldn’t be fair otherwise. And Uncle Andrew has an uncanny ability to figure out just how many people are attending at any one time.”
By now, they were at the door. Jackson was surprised that it was unlocked. Brianna pushed the door open with her fingertips, and just like that, a wall of humanity became evident.
Jackson took it all in, slightly awed. “Wow. I’ve seen smaller crowds in soup kitchens during the holidays.”
Brianna laughed. “Surprisingly enough, you’re not the first person to say that.”
Jackson remained rooted in place. Brianna caught him off guard as she hooked her arm through his and tugged, bringing him across the threshold.
“Now park your attitude and suspend your judgment until you’ve been here an hour,” Brianna instructed. She was serious even though her smile was warm.
“An hour,” Jackson repeated, allowing himself to be drawn farther into the house. “And then we’ll go?”
“We said a bit longer than sixty-five minutes, remember? You’re frowning,” she noted, nodding. “You remember.” That resolved, she got down to why she had really brought Jackson here. “All right, let me introduce you around.”
“You don’t have to introduce me,” he protested. “I know some of these people from the precinct.”
But she was not about to relent. “Some, not all.” She tugged him into the living room. “Humor me.”
“That’s all I’ve been doing.”
“And you’ve been great,” she told him, tongue in cheek.
Before he knew what was happening, Brianna was bringing him over to the chief of Ds. It was only when he was standing directly in front of the man that Jackson realized that the man she had brought him over to wasn’t Brian Cavanaugh—he just bore a striking resemblance to him.
“Uncle Andrew,” Brianna said, “I’d like you to meet—”
“Detective Jackson Muldare,” the former chief of police said with a broad smile. “Yes. I know.” And then the strikingly personable man with the thick mane of silver-gray hair laughed. “Don’t look so surprised, Detective,” he told Jackson. “Just because I’m not the chief of police anymore doesn’t mean I’m out of touch. I’ve heard all about the case you and your team are working on.”
“It’s Detective O’Bannon’s team, sir,” Jackson dutifully pointed out.
Smiling, Andrew looked at Brianna. “A diplomat,” he said with an approving nod. “Ease up, Jackson. You don’t have to address me as ‘sir.’ We’re not that formal here. You’re here to enjoy yourself, like everyone else. And to forget, for a wh
ile, all the nasty business going on beyond these walls.” About to turn away to go back to the kitchen, Andrew paused and said, “One word of advice, though.”
“Uh-oh, here we go.” An older, handsome woman with auburn hair and sparkling blue eyes laughed as she came over to join her husband. “You can take the man out of the uniform, but not the uniform out of the man,” she told Jackson. “No shoptalk, remember, Andrew? That’s your rule.” Turning toward Jackson and her niece, the woman smiled at them as she twined her arms through one of Andrew’s. “I’m Rose. Mrs. Former Chief of Police.”
“No shoptalk,” Andrew protested. “I was just going to tell them not to allow the Auroras to throw their weight around. They’ll try to intimidate you if you let them,” Andrew warned, speaking from experience. “You two follow the case to wherever it takes you.”
“Speaking of taking people places,” Rose said to Brianna, “why don’t you take the detective into the backyard? He looks as if he’d welcome a drink right about now.” With that, the vivacious woman drew her husband back to the kitchen to attend to his first love—cooking.
“A drink,” Jackson repeated. “Smart lady.”
Brianna smiled. “She’s seen enough first timers here to be able to read the signs.” Turning, she directed Jackson toward the rear of the house and the patio just beyond. “Let’s get you something to drink and then maybe you’ll be more inclined to mingle.”
Jackson raised a skeptical eyebrow. “How big a drink are we talking about?”
Brianna laughed. “I’ll leave that entirely up to you.”
Jackson feigned surprise. “You’re taking the training wheels off already?”
For a second, he caught himself being drawn in by the gleam in Brianna’s eyes. It almost seemed as if they were smiling at him as she said, “This is going to go well.”
Jackson sincerely had his doubts, but he did like the way confidence echoed in her every move.
“Follow me,” she said.
He did as he was told.
The house had seemed crowded to him from the moment they’d arrived. Jackson had assumed, when his partner had said that she was looking to acclimate him, that she meant there wouldn’t be so many people milling around in the beginning.
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