“My first sight of Zach—” Remembering his brother’s face, he bowed his head, eyes closed, and fought for control.
He didn’t hear Lina coming, but suddenly she was rubbing the taut muscles in his back, giving him her silent support. Fighting the need to turn around and lunge for her, hold her until the wave of pain subsided, he clenched his teeth.
Thirty seconds later, the wave receded. He straightened, aware when Lina’s hand dropped away. He gave himself another few seconds, then faced her.
“I’m okay.”
She read his mood enough to retreat to the table. This time, Bran managed to sit, legs stretched out, in a pretense at relaxation. He told her matter-of-factly about his parents’ ugly breakup and the choices he and Zach had to make. He had dedicated his life to never feeling so helpless again.
“Fast-forward twenty-four years,” he said wryly.
“What? You mean—”
“We lost contact after about a year. After that, I never heard from him or my mother until this year, when I happened to run into the new deputy coming down the hall at headquarters. Now, there was a shock. As it turned out, for both of us.”
“Wow. Neither of you looked for each other?”
“I thought about it, but...” He shrugged. “I figured he’d be a stranger to me.” Which Zach was, in many ways, even as he sometimes seemed so familiar.
This tension with Zach was strictly between them. Except it no longer was, entirely, or maybe never had been, Bran realized; Tess had gotten involved early on, and now there was Lina. If she was going to be his wife—and he was determined she would be—he couldn’t keep family secrets from her.
So he forced himself to go on, to tell her the rest: that Zach had always believed their father killed Sheila, because he knew Dad had lied to the police about not having gotten up during the night, and because the investigators had made it so obvious they thought Dad was guilty. In contrast, Bran had known by the time he turned twelve that their mother was taking one lover after another, right in the bed she shared at night with her husband. Some of those men must have seen Sheila; she’d had half-day kindergarten and stuck closer to home than Zach and Bran did.
Bran had passionately believed all these years that one of his mother’s lovers had admired her pretty, delicate little girl and knew which bedroom was hers. Bran had wondered how many keys to the house Mom had given out.
“Dad was too stubborn to move away even though he might have had a better life if he had. He faced people down and stayed in the house. Even when I made detective, he didn’t want me to investigate Sheila’s murder. I always thought it was because he believed, like I did, Mom shared a portion of the guilt, but he still loved her. He never remarried.”
Bran fell silent, remembering the grief that had never left his father. He’d lost his daughter in the most horrible way, then his wife and one of his two sons. All those years, Bran hadn’t been able to understand how a man could still love the woman who had betrayed him and maybe opened the door to the monster who did that to Sheila, but Dad wouldn’t hear a bad word about Bran’s mother, whatever bitter things he’d said to her himself.
“When Zach came back to town and realized I was a detective here and hadn’t solved the crime, he’d been sure Dad had prevented me because he thought I’d come up with evidence proving his guilt.” Bran huffed out a breath. “He claims to have changed his mind, but I’m not sure I buy it.”
She had a way of looking at him that made him feel as if he was gazing into a crystal ball. It was damned uncomfortable.
He told her most of the rest anyway, because if she spent any time around him and Zach, she’d hear about it eventually.
Lina winced, hearing how he and Zach had tracked down as many of their mother’s former lovers as they could identify and how they’d eliminated them as suspects one by one.
He’d just think he was done, thank God, and she’d ask a question. He talked until he was close to losing his voice, expressing his anger at the inadequate records that were all the Clear Creek PD could produce, and at the one original investigator who hadn’t retired but had taken offense that the Murphy boys were stepping on his toes.
Forehead crinkling, she said, “But...what if it was someone passing through town, or even a local who didn’t live near you but happened to drive down your street and see Sheila playing in the yard? At night, though...” she added lamely.
“Then we’ll never know who did it.”
That wouldn’t happen. Bran looked down to see that he’d balled his hands into fists on his thighs. “How did a stranger get in the house? How did he know which bedroom was Sheila’s? He’d have woken Mom and Dad if he opened their door, or us if he’d tried upstairs. No.” He shook his head. “It had to be someone who’d been in our house, knew where we slept, knew the fence in back made the yard private.”
Lina shivered. “That makes sense.” She studied him with that same, grave expression. “So...who did Zach talk to yesterday?”
Of course they’d circled back around to the blowup with his brother. Bran felt the burn of resentment in his esophagus. He’d have gotten around to all this eventually, but she had to push. There was a really good reason he’d kept Paige at a distance.
Which might be why she dumped me.
That reminder failed to soothe his searing resentment.
“We’ve moved on to former neighbors. Mrs. Greaver’s husband is dead, but she has a son who was, I don’t know, two or three years older than me. He could have come by when his sister was babysitting Sheila.”
“A neighborhood kid.”
“The investigators settled on Dad right away, and didn’t look closely at other possibilities.”
She was quiet for a moment. “I think you should go after Zach. You two need to talk.”
Bran stared at her incredulously, his resentment cresting. “I haven’t talked enough to satisfy you? Is this some kind of test? If I don’t go make nice, I fail?”
Lina shook her head and pushed back from the table. “Do what you want. I’ll make you a list.”
This time, he didn’t try to stop her.
“You do that,” he muttered, after she’d disappeared into the bedroom.
A sick feeling told him she was right; he did need to clear the air with his brother. But damned if he’d tell her that.
What he needed was a break from her, from the sexual tension that probably explained some of the frustration and anger that choked him. From the way she left him feeling like his guts were hanging out.
From his pitiful desire to tell her anything, if she’d just agree to marry him.
* * *
LINA HEARD THE sound of the key turning just as her stomach started to complain. Dread and hunger didn’t mix well. She wished she’d eaten before Bran returned.
Unfortunately, the door opened while she was lying flat on her back on his living room floor. She hadn’t managed to sit up when he appeared, arms laden and pulling her large suitcase behind him.
“Hey. Tipped over and couldn’t get up?”
His expression was guarded. Or was that apprehensive?
Framed in the doorway, he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Disheveled hair—had he ever combed it today?—broad shoulders, sharp blue eyes. The awareness infuriated her, given the way he’d lashed out at her before leaving.
Weren’t they supposed to be getting to know each other? His suggestion? Right. Sure.
It occurred to her that maybe they were. She’d learned that having to acknowledge his own painful emotions turned Bran Murphy mean.
Flushing under his gaze now, she sat up with considerably less grace than she used to have. “Doing some exercises.” Her eyes went to the white bag dangling from one of his hands. “You brought lunch?”
“Yep. Didn’t know if you indul
ge in junk food, but it sounded good to me.”
He had to do something nice now?
“I surrender occasionally.” And, oh, it smelled good.
Lina waited until he’d detoured to the kitchen before rolling to her knees and using the coffee table as a crutch to help her get up.
“Cheeseburgers and fries,” he said, setting the bag on the table. “Milk shakes.”
While he took the suitcase into the bedroom, she explored the contents of the bags and distributed the food. Lina had already unwrapped her burger by the time he returned.
“Was my place okay?” she asked, before taking a big bite. Apparently, they were going to ignore the fight, if you could call it that when it had been one-sided. Which was probably better, given that she had no choice but to stay with him.
“Nobody had broken in, if that’s what you mean. But why would they, if you’re not there?” He frowned. “Unless... Is there any chance this guy could be in a photo you’ve taken?”
“I can’t imagine. I don’t take many, and these days, only with my phone. So I post pictures on Facebook, or email them. I hardly ever print one.”
She stuck the straw into her milk shake and ate a fry.
Sitting across from her, Bran didn’t move. Lina picked up her burger again.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” he said abruptly, voice gritty.
Startled, she looked up. “You mean, about your sister?”
He gave a single, hard nod.
“But...” Shaking her head in disbelief, she said, “How is that possible?”
His shoulders moved. “My father knew. We didn’t talk about it. Neighbors and friends knew. Later, there was no reason to tell anyone.”
“Not even Paige?” She couldn’t help remembering what Tess had said about how closed off he was.
“No.” He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’d...put it out of my mind. As much as I could. Until Zach showed up out of the blue.”
“And he knew, too.”
“Yes.”
Her heart had taken to beating fast. I’m the first person he has ever told. He’d said it was difficult. She just hadn’t had any idea how difficult.
“Why me?” she finally asked.
A nerve twitched in his cheek. “You’re the mother of my baby.”
Lina sighed. Not the explanation she wanted, but she’d accept it for now. She nodded and bent to her milk shake.
Bran took a couple bites before saying, “I stopped by Zach’s.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He grimaced. “He apologized. I think he was embarrassed.”
“Of course he was.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Throwing a temper tantrum like that was childish.”
“Tess was standing in the background, arms crossed, giving him the laser stare.”
Lina laughed. “I don’t believe that.”
“She can be a tough broad, don’t kid yourself.” He sounded as if he admired his sister-in-law. “She was definitely giving him the look.”
“The look?”
His mouth quirked. “The same one you gave me when you ordered me to go talk to him.”
“I did not order you! I...suggested.”
This was one of the first laughs she’d heard from him. She could grow to love the sound and what it did to that hard, angular face.
“Uh-huh,” was all he said.
She sucked on her straw, then reached for the fries. “So? Did he find out anything good?”
“Maybe. Mrs. Greaver was tight-lipped about her son. Sounds like he might be a disappointment to her, but Zach didn’t think that was all of it. He said the fireplace mantel was crowded with pictures, but Rob was absent except for some family photos when he was a kid.”
“That might not have anything to do with your sister.”
“Maybe not, but Mama Greaver declined to be party to our investigation. If the police thought my father did it, that was good enough for her. Zach says she got uncomfortable when he asked about Rob, even just what he’s doing these days.”
“Guaranteeing that you two will consider him seriously as a possible suspect.” Lina had mixed feelings. “The poor woman was trying to protect her son.”
“The poor woman?” Bran’s teeth showed when he leaned forward. “Is that any excuse if she suspects he likes little girls?”
“No, but...it would be hard. That’s all I’m saying. Parents are, or should be, wired to protect their children, don’t you think?” She saw where he was looking, and realized she had covered the firm mound that was now her waistline with both hands in an unconscious gesture of, yes, protection.
“Yeah.” Bran’s voice had softened, become gruff. He met her eyes again. “I do get that.”
He was quiet, leaving her to wonder if he’d just been struck by the hard reality that he would soon be a parent himself.
Once so sure she could do this alone, Lina discovered at that moment how much she hoped Bran really would be in it with her for the long-term, and not only out of a rigid sense of duty and honor. This was a man willing to admit he’d been wrong. And while he hadn’t exactly apologized, he’d come close enough for her.
She was bundling up the wrappings from their lunch when Bran said, in his usual, detached way, “I have a few more questions. Possibilities of where you might have seen the bank robber.”
Lina could think about things she’d rather do, but she only nodded. She needed to remember.
* * *
WATCHING HER MOVING around the kitchen, Bran wished like hell they could take the rest of the day off. Pretend they were a normal couple.
Spend the afternoon in bed.
Not happening. But he should count his blessings. Lina was more forgiving than he deserved.
Even the act of pulling out a chair and sitting was graceful when she did it.
Seeing her expectant gaze, he asked, “Do you go to a salon or spa?”
“No, I haven’t gone to any kind of spa since I moved here. I take care of my nails myself, and Maya—” her breath hitched “—always trimmed my hair.”
“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “You two were close, weren’t you?”
Her reply was pained. “We met because I had a boy in my class last year whom she paid to mow her lawn. She saw some bruises on him and convinced him to talk to her. It was a bullying situation. He told her I was the coolest teacher, so we sat down to map out a strategy and I went with him to talk to the principal and counselor. After that, she invited me over for lunch and we just clicked. I’d already made friends here, mostly with other teachers, but they were all married, some of them had kids.” This smile was small and crooked, reminding him of the jackass ex who’d hurt her. “Between work and family,” she added, “they didn’t have much time. Maya and I were both free to do things together.”
He asked if she’d gotten involved in other situations like that. She might have barely seen an older brother, an uncle, a friend of the family at the house when she went to talk to a student’s parents, but she shook her head even before he finished.
“I meet with parents at the school,” she said firmly. “Always. Because this isn’t that big a town, I’ve run into parents shopping or at the movie theater or whatever, but...” She stopped. “I don’t remember meeting him that way. Truthfully—” she looked beseechingly at him “—I’m not convinced I ever did meet him. It feels more like the kind of encounter you dismiss right away.”
“Car salesman?” he thought to ask.
“I already owned my Kia. I drove myself out here from Minnesota. It’s sort of a stretch to think he’s from back home and we just happened to end up in the same place, halfway across the country. And, no, I didn’t have a stalker back home.”
Bran fixated on part of what she’d said, his protective side kicking in. “You made that drive in the dead of winter by yourself? Didn’t your parents object?”
She raised her eyebrows. “I wasn’t eighteen and just leaving for college, you know. I was thirty-one years old. We have a lot more snow back there than we do here, so I’m experienced driving in it.”
“Your parents didn’t have anything to say about that?” Bran almost wished he and Lina weren’t having a girl. He’d be scared shitless every time he had to take his eyes off her.
“My father wanted me to sell the car and buy a new one when I got here. Actually, he tried to convince me to live at home until I could find a job a whole lot closer to them. That made me all the more determined to get away.”
Bran could understand that. A bigger mystery was why he had made a life here in Clear Creek after his sister’s death, considering the attitude of people who should have been his father’s friends. And yet, Bran thought uneasily, here I am.
It disturbed him to think Lina, in striking out on her own, had shown more independence than he had. Did she wonder why he’d stayed in this backwater county, or did she just assume it was all he knew and it felt safe and comfortable?
If so, she’d be wrong. He’d left for college, and then after the academy started his career with the Seattle PD. Originally he’d taken the job here because of Dad’s declining health. But even after burying his father, he’d never considered moving away again. He had never really analyzed why, and that bothered him now.
He’d been having all kinds of unwelcome epiphanies since he met Lina Jurick, it occurred to him. And he thought he wanted to marry her?
But even this new sense of vulnerability couldn’t shake his decision. She was right for him, and with her carrying his baby, they were already a family. He’d either learn to deflect her or he’d resign himself to having his hidden depths filtered until they became so crystal clear, even he’d be able to see right through them.
“We have the rest of the day,” Lina said.
Crap. He knew what she was thinking. “You want to go swimming.”
The hope in her eyes was timid, but there. “You said maybe.”
Harlequin Superromance May 2016 Box Set Page 11