by Jodie Bailey
Kristin froze, so still Lucas wasn’t even sure she was breathing. She flicked a glance at him, then at the table.
The action made his skin cold. What was she hiding? “Tell me.”
She swallowed so hard he could see the movement in her throat. Kristin opened her mouth, chewed her lower lip, contemplating before she sighed as though she was giving up. “The man on the trail. He said he wanted to talk about my brother.”
Lucas sank in his chair and dropped his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Did you tell the police that?”
“No.”
“Why not? Don’t you think—”
“I don’t know why.” Water sloshed on the table as Kristin shoved the glass away. “Things with Kyle were complicated, and I—I don’t know.”
The flash of anguish that she extinguished as quickly as it appeared almost ripped his heart in two. He hated this. All of it. And he hated most what he had to do next. “Was he into anything illegal? Maybe this guy wants something he thinks Kyle has?” He waited on a knife’s edge, aware he was baiting the woman he called his friend. If there was something lower than chewed gum on the bottom of a running shoe, it was probably him right now.
She shoved the chair from the table and stood, ice in her gaze. “He was my brother. Are you really implying he was a criminal?” Her voice pitched higher. “He’s dead. You don’t get to accuse a dead man when he can’t defend himself.”
The force of her anger landed a blow. Lucas moderated his reaction and tried not to respond in kind. Being yelled at had never sat well with him, had landed him extra duty in basic until he’d learned to holster his temper.
He stared at the condensation rings she’d left on the table, counted to ten. Counted to ten again. Didn’t speak until he knew he could hold himself together, knew his anger was more at himself for putting her in this position than at her for reacting. “Just trying to see every angle. I want you safe. That’s all.”
Her head jerked, and her eyes caught his, heating with something like warmth before dropping off the cliff into a flash of fear. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I hate it, but you’re right.” She looked away, then sat and reached for her glass, taking a long drink before she spoke again. “I hope I’d have known. He didn’t talk much, was more of a manual-labor kind of guy, but still...if he was pushing drugs or something, I don’t know when he’d have had the time or where he’d have kept them. He lived in the barracks, spent a few weekends here in the guest room, kept pretty much to himself. Unless...”
Lucas wanted to jump up and grab her by the shoulders, make her finish that sentence. Prove to me you’re innocent, Kristin. Come on. “Unless what?” His voice deepened, but he didn’t have time to care.
“Gambling? Maybe he got into deep debt. Online, maybe. One of those fantasy sports sites. Or poker. He never borrowed money from me, and he had plenty for the car, so that’s unlikely.”
Lucas deflated. No answers. None. Only a woman sitting in front of him grieving her brother. Lost. Confused.
Hopefully innocent.
Man, did he ever hope she was innocent. Right now, he wanted to find a way to make her smile in the midst of a world of hurt and fear, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t risk tripping into feelings for her, mistaking sympathy for something more. The way his chest felt, he was already in danger.
When he lifted his head, she was watching him, something haunted darkening her blue eyes. “You have to go back to work, and I’ve got...” She waved her hand toward the front door. “I’ve got a client.”
“Not alone, you don’t.” Lucas stood and closed the gap between them, trying to assert some authority, trying to make her see she couldn’t go to a stranger’s house alone, even if it was for work. Not now.
Kristin stiffened, a flicker of panic ghosting her expression, but then she shrugged. “Have it your way.” She turned on her heel and disappeared into the living room and up the stairs, leaving Lucas to watch her walk away.
SEVEN
“Thank you, Mrs. Jennings.” Kristin offered a wave from the cracked sidewalk, trying all the while not to stick her tongue out at Lucas for being oh so very wrong about her safety.
“I’ll see you next week.” The older lady held court from a creaky wooden rocker on an equally creaky wooden porch, her nylon wind suit scratching a melody every time she moved. She aimed a finger at Lucas, who stood halfway between the house and the street. “Bring your handsome assistant with you next time, too. And if you bring back that container, I’ll make sure to have more cookies ready.” She winked and chuckled, brushing carefully curled white hair from her forehead. “Y’all have a nice day.”
Kristin threw another wave and met Lucas at the street. She waited until they were a couple of houses away before she unleashed the I told you so she’d been holding back since they walked into Mrs. Jennings’s house an hour earlier. “Man, Lucas. I’m really glad you came with me. I’m not sure I could have defended myself against an octogenarian.”
“Sure. You didn’t need me.” Laughter twitched the corner of Lucas’s mouth. “She bought a ten-session package from you. I’m pretty sure it’s because of me. You’re welcome.”
“Whatever.” Kristin could brush him off, but she wasn’t entirely certain his joke wasn’t truth. The older woman had fawned all over Lucas, flirting like a nineteen-year-old. She’d even confessed when Lucas was out of earshot that “the boy” was a “breath of fresh air.”
Boy. Maybe she’d keep that one in her pocket to bring out the next time the man beside her pulled out his overprotective card.
Popping the lid off the container of chocolate chip cookies, Kristin inhaled the fresh, sweet scent. She pulled one out and it still felt slightly warm, like the treats had come from the oven right before Kristin and Lucas arrived. She held the container out to him. “Here. You want to check them for poison?”
Lucas fell into step beside her and grabbed a cookie, ignoring her snark. “You could have told me your new client was not a male in the fighting-age demographic.” He’d run across the street before they left for Mrs. Jennings’s and changed into gray basketball shorts and a black T-shirt that showed off the definition he’d built over years in the service. No wonder Mrs. Jennings was smitten.
No need to go down that road. Kristin smirked. Mrs. Jennings could have him.
She bit into the cookie, the outside crisp and the inside gooey. Perfect and totally worth the indulgence. “I didn’t know. She sounded younger over the phone. All I knew was she wanted to keep active after surgery and physical therapy. I didn’t know it was hip surgery.”
“You get that a lot?”
“Occasionally.” Kristin sidestepped a root poking through the sidewalk. Her business was a source of pride, the reason she got out of bed every morning. “The bulk of my clients are our age, maybe a little bit older. I do a couple of homeschool groups to keep things from getting monotonous.” The little kids were her favorite, so excited and so comically uncoordinated. Their innocence and joy reminded her that the world wasn’t all dark.
As the black edges tried to push in, she rolled her shoulders. “Would you have let me come alone even if you’d known? You’re scared to let me walk into my backyard, let alone walk three blocks through our neighborhood.” She looked over her shoulder and pretended to bite her fingernails, choosing comedy over the truth that his presence took the edge off her anxiety. “Think we’re safe, Sergeant?”
“Stop it.” The words were all business, his earlier humor gone.
Kristin put the brakes on her sarcasm. Yeah, that had probably pushed things too far. “I’m sorry.” She should probably chow on a little bit of crow, even though the cookie tasted better. “And I’m sorry about getting snappy at the house earlier.”
“You were stressed, and I started asking questions about your brother. I’d have probably cracke
d, too.”
“I didn’t crack.” Kristin snapped the lid on the container and popped the rest of the cookie in her mouth, savoring the bite. Downing the whole container would be awesome, but it would wreck her training. The rest of the yummies could go to Casey, who managed to scarf whatever was set in front of her without any ill effects.
She brushed crumbs off on her leggings, wishing she could brush off everything else so easily. “It’s not you playing interrogator, although that was annoying.” She hip-checked him, then grew serious. “I’m not used to someone watching after me, and I can’t decide if it’s good or bad.”
“Not even your brother? I thought brothers were annoyingly protective of their sisters.”
If only their relationship had been that way. The what-never-was singed her heart. “My family was complicated.” An understatement if she’d ever spoken one.
“I think you’d be hard-pressed to find a family that isn’t.” The way he said it hung heavy between them, like he was talking about more than Kyle.
It almost sounded like he knew from experience. “Rough childhood?” Let him answer the questions for once. Kristin preferred to keep her past buried.
“That would be an understatement.” He sniffed a bitter laugh. “You don’t want to hear my history, though. It’s just that. History.”
Kristin swept her free hand out to encompass the world around them. Trees were budding early after the mild, snowless North Carolina winter. The air was warm, and the breeze hinted of the unbearable summer to come. Right now, though, the day was one of those perfect ones that blessed them on occasion, mild and beautiful. “I’ve got nowhere to be, and if you want to talk criminal, spending the afternoon inside on a day like this might fit the definition.”
They reached her driveway, but neither of them slowed to turn in. She ought to go inside and tell him he could go on with his day, but something kept her feet moving past her house, and he didn’t seem any more inclined to walk away than she did.
That was dangerous, because the conversation was getting more personal than she usually let it.
Lucas shrugged. “Not much to tell. My aunt raised me after my parents took off.”
“Took off?” Life would have been a whole lot better if hers had taken off. Maybe her mother and Kyle would still be alive.
“Hard partiers. Crazy hard. I slowed them down. When I was four, they took me to spend the night with my aunt Susan and never came back.”
Kristin’s heart stuttered. Four. The thought of four-year-old Lucas, with his dark hair and big brown eyes, watching day in and day out for his mommy and daddy to come for him... The image tore through her with physical pain. She wanted to reach for his hand, to comfort him, but that crossed a line they’d both drawn. “I’m sorry.”
Lucas smiled. “Don’t be. It was one of those God things. My aunt was a better mother than mine could ever be. They terminated their rights, and she adopted me.” His expression darkened and he kicked a rock, skittering it along the sidewalk. “Still, it messes with your head when your parents ditch you.”
“It messes with your head when they stay, too.”
Lucas slowed, but he didn’t stop walking. “How so?”
“Well, they...” Kristin shrugged, not willing to hijack his story or to tell hers. “So, what happened after?”
He was silent, the only sound the shuffle of their feet on the uneven sidewalk. It was the first time Lucas had shown vulnerability, a chink in his firmly placed warrior armor. “What happened makes me look bad.”
Kristin laughed. “Mrs. Jennings strikes me as a good judge of character, and she didn’t have a problem with how you look on the inside or the outside.”
The tense lines around Lucas’s mouth faded into a grin. “Wow, James. Who knew you were hiding a sense of humor?” He arched an eyebrow. “Is she the only one who doesn’t have a problem with my inside or my outside?” The inflection in the words was deep, hinting that his tone might be joking but his intentions weren’t funny.
Was he flirting with her? Kristin popped the top on the cookies again and held them out, desperate for a buffer but not quite sure she wanted one. “I’m sure plenty of people have no problem with your outside.”
“I think you called me ruggedly handsome and irresistible.” Lucas snagged a cookie and studied it. “In fact, I’m sure you did.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She snapped the lid onto the box, embarrassment radiating outward from her stomach. Flattering him was exactly what she’d done. “What could possibly make you look bad, you all-American hero you?”
“Hero?” He sobered quickly. “Sometimes, when abandonment hits, you start searching for love. Everywhere.”
“Oh.” She heard him loud and clear. Women. And probably a lot of them. The idea of Lucas as that guy, the one her grandmother had so frequently and needlessly warned her about, was surprising enough to tighten her hold on the box of cookies.
Surely his friendship with her had nothing to do with... Her feet wanted to stop walking, but they couldn’t. Lucas had never made one questionable move, and there had been plenty of opportunities. She swallowed her questions. “Kyle was that way.”
“Yeah, well...” The way he said it told her he knew all about Kyle’s ways. “It took Jesus to set me straight.”
“Jesus?” Surely he hadn’t gone religious on her. “Are you serious?”
“We can search everywhere, but until we go to the source...” He carefully avoided her gaze. “You should come to church with—”
“I’m good.” Jesus was nice for some people, if they needed something to lean on. Frankly, she’d done fine without any help.
Lucas started to say something else, then stopped, the two of them ambling along, passing a few houses before he spoke. “Life with my aunt was as good as she could make it.”
“What happened to your parents?”
“I have no idea. Right after I joined the army, my mom called all upset, afraid I was going to get blown apart overseas.” His chuckle held a bitter edge. “She cared when it could buy her sympathy. Dad never cared. I don’t ever remember him not being high.” He scanned the sky like he was searching for something. “I never remember him speaking to me at all.” He shrugged, straightened his shoulders, acted like all was well. “Last I heard, they were still together, living in Vegas, not really caring what happened to their son. I guess it could have been worse. At least they didn’t kill each other.”
* * *
The lighthearted expression Kristin had worn vanished under a cloud at the exact same moment the sun did, darkening her countenance and the world around them, cloaking both in shadow. Her feet slowed until she’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.
Lucas turned to her. “Did I say something wrong?”
“I...” She sighed and stared at him, face almost slack, expression saying something he couldn’t decipher. Confusion, maybe, or hurt.
He ran through his last words but couldn’t think of anything that would make her stare at him like he’d somehow betrayed her. Maybe he’d shocked her? His story was rough, but it wasn’t as rough as some he’d heard from his own soldiers.
It wasn’t as rough as the story he’d overheard Kyle Coleman tell one of his buddies. Right about now, he’d gladly lift the sidewalk and crawl under it.
Lucas drew in a sharp breath. He really was lower than old chewing gum. “Kristin, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about your family.”
“It’s...” With slow, deliberate steps, she approached him, staring at the bare branches of a dogwood tree. “So you know?”
Lucas lifted his hand then dropped it to his side. If he touched her, she’d shut down on him faster than he could stop her. “All I know is a little bit I overheard your brother say once.” And it had been flippant, like Coleman had detached from the trauma.
<
br /> “What did he say?” Keeping her eyes straight ahead, Kristin started walking again, like she wanted to hear but didn’t want to make contact.
Lucas matched her pace, their shoulders so close he could feel her through her light jacket. In his whole life, he’d never wanted to reach out and take a woman’s hand so much. This was the space where he had to tread lightly, because when it came to Kristin James, the road was littered with improvised explosives. “They were both killed the same night.”
“He never could believe the truth.” She sniffed and swatted at a low-hanging branch over her head. “Probably his way of coping. He disappeared for years. Some part of me always believed the brother I grew up with was somewhere inside him, waiting to make another appearance. He never was the same, never let me in again.”
He fought to keep his voice level, to cover the emotions swamping him in waves. It took a long time before he could say anything. This conversation was treading dangerously close to territory that could prove her innocence or swamp her in guilt. “When did you see him again?”
“Last year, a few months before he deployed, Kyle called me. He was stationed here and found me. Never wanted to talk about what happened, but did want to make things right between us. He was at the house a lot. Spent a few weekends with me, worked on the car out in the garage. I thought...” Her voice cracked and she lifted her chin. “I thought we were getting somewhere. We weren’t.”
Something about her story jangled alarm bells. What she was saying didn’t match up to reality. “So when did he come to Bragg, exactly?” Surely she knew when her brother had moved back to town.
“Y’all deployed last January? He came in October. Last-minute transfer into the unit.”
Lucas schooled his face not to show the shock pinging inside his skull. Kyle Coleman came to the unit over a year before they deployed.
What had made him lie to his sister?
They continued in silence, Lucas straining against the questions forming on his tongue. He knew Kristin. She wasn’t done talking, but if he reminded her he was listening, she’d stop talking.