by Amy Reece
He rubbed his thumb over her soft palm. “You are incredibly sweet to worry about me, Nina. Yeah, I miss him, especially since the idiot didn’t bother to tell me he was planning to go to grad school four hours away. But it was good to have a reason to spend more time with Neal. It was too short-lived.” His throat closed, and he reached for his coffee, needing a moment to compose himself. “What about you? Did Neal ever talk about anyone he was having problems with?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. The police are going to ask us all this, aren’t they?”
“I’m sure they will.” He squeezed her hand. “I need to apologize, Nina.”
She frowned. “For what?”
“For doubting you, for pressuring you to see a counselor, for saying you needed to grieve your brother and get on with your life.” He pushed his coffee away and ran his free hand through his hair. “I was way out of line.”
“Stop.” She grabbed his other hand and pulled, forcing him to lean toward her. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. We had no idea he was murdered.”
“You did.” At her disbelieving look he shook his head. “You knew he didn’t kill himself.”
“I didn’t believe he had. I couldn’t believe it.”
He squeezed her hands gently, then pulled his away and leaned back. “I should have believed in you. I’m sorry. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
She smiled crookedly and set her elbow on the table, her little finger crooked toward him. “Pinky swear?”
He managed a half-grin and linked his pinky with hers again. “Yeah. Pinky swear.”
They broke apart again as their food was delivered, a cheeseburger for Seamus and a spinach salad for Nina. The food was good and they devoted several uninterrupted minutes to eating.
He watched her carefully, making sure she ate enough. He was inordinately proud of her, of how she was holding up in the face of all this. She’d never stopped believing in her brother, had never believed he was capable of taking his own life. “So, what about the antidepressant prescription? Do you think that was legit?”
She chewed carefully and washed it down with a sip of water. “Well, Kira seemed to think so. She said he was depressed and was seeing a doctor for it.”
He considered carefully before responding. “Do you trust Kira?”
She set her fork down and stared at him. “What do you mean?”
He ate another French fry, chewing slowly before answering. He wasn’t sure what he meant; the question had popped out without a conscious decision on his part. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “How well do you know her?”
Nina picked up her fork and took a small bite, obviously considering her answer carefully. “Not terribly well. She and Neal have been together for more than two years, though. She’s been at nearly every family gathering in that time, although there’s not many of those. Not on the DeLuca scale, at any rate.”
He chuckled, amazed they could find humor in anything today. “Yeah, my family can be…intense. Where did they meet?”
“I’m surprised you and Neal never talked about any of this.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Um, guys don’t really talk about stuff like that. At least, not on purpose.”
She smiled resignedly. “I probably don’t want to know what guys do talk about. They met through a mutual friend.”
“Who was this mutual friend?”
“His business partner, Gordon Sanderson. Have you met him?”
“Sure, but I don’t know him well. They were college roommates, right?”
“Yeah, but not until their junior year. Gordy is the computer expert and genius behind their business and Neal is…was…shit, sorry. Neal was the business side of things.”
“Hey.” He reached for her hand again. “It’s still hard to think about him in the past tense, isn’t it?”
She reclaimed her hand and pushed her bowl away. “You have no idea. Well, I guess you do, actually.”
The waitress stopped by to refill their coffee mugs and Nina wrapped both hands around hers, as if trying to warm herself. “Murder is what happens on television, not to people you know and certainly not to family members. I’m having a hard time processing this.”
He wanted to scold her for not finishing her lunch, but figured it was no use. She’d probably just skewer him with that green gaze and continue drinking her coffee. His own cheeseburger was less appetizing than it had been a few minutes before, so he totally understood. He didn’t have a response for her, though; he’d been thinking the same thing.
“And if it does happen, it should be in a dark alley or something when someone is trying to mug you or carjack you. Who gets murdered in their office, for God’s sake?”
“I don’t know, hon.” The endearment slipped out, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Do you want me to stay with the girls tonight while you’re at your parents’ house?” He knew—and completely agreed—they shouldn’t be told about the murder. Shit like that could give them nightmares.
“Um, I was actually hoping you’d come with me. I know it’s selfish, but I dread having the conversation with them by myself.” She looked down into her mug. “I understand if you’d rather skip it, though. It’s going to suck, big time.”
He knew it would; Mrs. Braden was not a calm, rational person. She would, no doubt, engage in a fair amount of crying and wailing while Mr. Braden sat quietly and let his wife emote. It had always been that way, even back in high school, and it often made Seamus, whose own mother would never do something like that, uncomfortable. It probably also helped explain why both Nina and Neal had been rather serious and quiet, although Neal could cut loose when he wanted. Seamus wasn’t sure if Nina knew how to loosen up and let herself have fun. “Of course I’ll go. We’re in this together, Nina.” He wanted to reach for her hand again but thought better of it. He was starting to enjoy and crave those little touches entirely too much. Remember your girlfriend, dumbass! The little voice in his head could be such a nag. But he’d never cheated on a woman, and he didn’t intend to start now. Nina and Sloane both deserved better than that. And he had no idea whether or not Nina still carried a torch for him. There’d been a whole lot of water under the bridge since that high school crush and she’d no doubt have gotten past it by now. They’d been thrown together by Neal’s death and it was messing with their emotions. That’s all this was. “Will you be able to get a babysitter this late?”
She nodded. “I’m sure I will. I’ll see if their after-school nanny can keep them for a few extra hours.” She fiddled with her paper napkin, tearing it into a small pile of shreds. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Seamus, during this…” she faded off, not seeming to know how to express the awfulness of Neal’s death.
“I think ‘clusterfuck’ might be the word you’re going for.” This time he shoved the annoying voice in his head into a dark corner and reached for her small hand. It was still cold, even though she’d had it on her mug.
She chuckled and clutched his hand, as if it was her lifeline. “That sounds about right. And ‘appreciate’ isn’t the right word, either, but I don’t know what is.”
“Me neither. I’m not doing it to get any thanks or appreciation, though. Neal was my best friend, even though we hadn’t been close for a long time. I can’t understand what happened any more than you, but I need to try to figure it out. I loved the guy, you know? And I love you too.” He hoped she knew he meant as a sister. He hoped he really meant it only that way. “We’re in this together, Nina,” he reiterated, “until you get sick of me.”
“I don’t think that’s likely to happen,” she whispered. “I need you, Seamus. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too. And it’s not a one-way street, you know. I need you just as much, if not more. This whole thing—”
“The clusterfuck, you mean?”
He grinned, grateful she’d lightened the suddenly somber mood. “Yeah, that. It’s messing with my head. I can think better, clearer when yo
u’re near.” His phone, which he’d placed on the table near his plate, lit up suddenly, displaying Sloane’s gorgeous face above the accept and reject buttons. He saw Nina glance at it, then pull her hands from his and lean back in her seat.
“You’d better take that.”
He wanted to reject her call; he was actually angry at the interruption. But he’d rejected too many of her calls lately and he needed to remind himself, to declare it publicly to Nina, that he still had a girlfriend. He’d been far too guilty of the old “out of sight, out of mind” paradigm since Sloane had left. He grabbed his phone as he stood. “Yeah. Be right back.” He stepped outside to take the call. “Sloane. Hey.” He hoped his greeting didn’t sound as anemic as he felt.
“Hey, yourself. You’re off today, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
She paused, as if taken aback at his abruptness. “Well, I wanted to see how you’re doing. I know this situation with Neal has been really rough for you.”
Situation? Rough? Fuck. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his anger in check. She was trying to sympathize, after all. But he found himself reluctant to tell her about the murder. I don’t want to be stuck out here explaining all the details to her while Nina waits. He almost believed his rationalization. “Yeah, it is. Listen, Sloane. I’m kind of in the middle of something right now with Neal’s…family. Can I call you back later tonight?”
She was silent again, and Seamus could tell she was annoyed. “Sure.”
“Okay. Great. I’ll, uh, I’ll talk to you later.” Only later did he realize neither had said “I love you.”
Nina was signing a credit card slip when he returned to the table. “Everything all right?”
He frowned as he watched her slide the white slip of paper in the black folder. “Yeah. Tell me you didn’t just pay for our meals.”
“All right. I won’t.” She stood and looped her purse over her shoulder.
He sighed. “Nina. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I wanted to.” She put a hand on her hip. “Are you about to object to me paying the tab based upon some antiquated notion of proper gender roles?”
“I have no idea what you just said, Professor Braden.” He did, of course. He’d minored in sociology in college and even wrote a paper on gender role stereotypes. She was so damn cute when she was bossy. “But I have a hard time allowing a woman to pay for my lunch.”
“Don’t be a Neanderthal, Seamus. Come on.” She slipped her arm through his. “I’ll let you buy me ice cream.”
Her hand was finally warm on his bare arm. “You’re a trip, Nina. Fine. I guess I can force my emasculated self to buy you dessert.”
They walked next door to the ice cream shop, where he bought them each a cone. They walked back to the car slowly, enjoying the warmth of the late September day and the fresh mountain air.
***
Nina
“Don’t worry about it, Dad. I’m serious.” Nina waved away the two twenties her father tried to hand her for the pizzas she and Seamus had picked up.
“All right. Thanks, baby. Your mom didn’t feel like cooking tonight.”
“Of course, Daddy.” She led the way to the kitchen, where her mother was setting paper plates on the table. She walked into her mother’s outstretched arms and held tightly. She’d hugged her mother more in the last week than in the previous ten years.
Seamus set the boxes on the table and accepted a hug in turn from her mom.
“Oh, I’m so glad you could come, Seamus.” Mrs. Braden turned to Nina. “Kira should be here soon.”
Nina and Seamus shared a swift glance as they remembered their earlier conversation about Neal’s fiancée. Seamus didn’t seem to trust her, but Nina wasn’t sure. Neal had been so happy with Kira and beyond excited when she’d agreed to marry him. She’d spent every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and family birthday with them for the past two years; surely Nina would have picked up on something if she weren’t trustworthy. Sure, she’d never really thought Kira was good enough for her twin, but then, Neal had never thought David was good enough for her. But he’d been spot-on about that, hadn’t he? She still wondered what the truth was regarding the anti-depressant prescription, but it hardly mattered now that they’d learned Neal was murdered.
“Nina?” Her father had apparently asked a question.
“Sorry.” She shook her head slightly. “What?”
“What would you like to drink? We have wine, beer—”
“Wine, please. Red, if you have it.”
He poured a glass of merlot and handed it to her. “Seamus?”
“A beer would be great, thanks.”
Kira came in as they were sitting down to eat, looking flustered as she accepted a glass of wine and waved away the offer of food.
“Well, that detective was certainly in a hurry to get rid of us this morning, wasn’t she?” Mrs. Braden sipped her wine as she spoke.
Nina felt Seamus bristle at the criticism of his sister-in-law. “Mom, I think she just didn’t want to spend time speculating about who murdered Neal. She said they’ve barely started the investigation.”
“Well, I think it would have been nice to be able to ask a few questions. My son was murdered, after all, and that woman just shut us down!”
“Nancy,” Mr. Braden warned. “Calm down, please. Let’s talk about this in a rational manner.”
Nina glanced at Seamus and noted the way his jaw flexed as if trying to keep his temper in check. “Mom, Chris is married to Seamus’s brother, Hugh, so it would be great if you wouldn’t blame this all on her.” She saw no reason to sugar-coat it for her mother, who could be difficult at times. They were all reeling from the shock of finding out Neal had been murdered and her mother’s form of coping wasn’t helping anyone.
“Well, I’m sorry, but—”
“Have you been asked to go in for more questioning?” Norm Braden interrupted his wife, clearly used to intervening between her and Nina, as he had so often during Nina’s teen years, when the two women couldn’t seem to be in the same room without arguing.
Seamus reached for Nina’s hand under the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Yeah. We’re going in the morning. What about you all?”
Mr. Braden nodded. “We have an appointment tomorrow afternoon. What about you, Kira?”
Kira jumped and knocked her wine glass over. Rivulets of merlot ran across the table top and trickled into her lap. “Shit! Sorry!” She waved her hands helplessly.
Nina stood and crossed the room to fetch paper towels. “Here.” She handed a wad to Kira, then used the rest to mop the table. She glanced at Seamus as she wiped, noting his raised eyebrow and frown toward Kira, who was doing more damage than good to her cream-colored slacks. “Are you okay, Kira?”
“Not really.” She slapped the soggy, red paper towels on the table and reached for her wine glass, which Norman had righted and refilled. Her hands trembled so much Nina thought she would spill it again. “Detective Hart asked me to come in early tomorrow morning before my shift at the hospital. I’m sorry.” She set the glass aside and jumped from her seat.
They all watched her exit quickly to the bathroom, then turned back to stare at each other uncomfortably.
“Should I check on her?” Nancy Braden started to rise.
Norm reached a hand to rest on her shoulder. “Let her be, Nance. She probably needs a few minutes to herself. As hard as this is on the rest of us, poor Kira lost her future husband.”
Always the peacemaker, Dad. “Did Neal ever talk to you guys about work?” Nina gathered up the wet paper towels and threw them away.
Her parents looked at each other and shrugged. “Not very often,” her mother said. “I think he assumed we were too old to understand the whole cyber security thing.”
Nina smiled; Neal had said as much to her, that their parents were hopeless Luddites when it came to anything technological. “But did he ever talk ab
out the people at work? Like, did he have problems with any of them?”
Her father frowned. “Sweetheart, you sound like the detective.” He paused to top off her wine. “I’m not sure it’s wise to speculate about all that.”
Nina barely refrained from the eye-roll that comment so richly deserved.
“Yes,” her mother agreed. “I may not have appreciated her rudeness, but I’m sure the detective is much better equipped than you to investigate Neal’s case, especially when your brother returns.” She addressed her final words to Seamus. “How is Finn’s new baby? It was a girl, wasn’t it?”
Seamus winked at Nina and turned to answer her mother. “Yes, ma’am. Ava Sophia. Would you like to see a picture?”
Kira returned as Mrs. Braden was admiring Seamus’s new niece. “I’m so sorry for all this.” She gestured to the table Nina had wiped. “I think I better go. I guess I’m just not ready to talk about it right now.”
Mrs. Braden clucked her tongue and handed the phone back to Seamus. “Of course, dear.” She rose and ushered Kira out of the kitchen, murmuring soft assurances the whole way.
Nina stood and began to clear the table, more than ready to leave the stressful get together and return home to her girls. I just want to curl up with them and watch cartoons and forget about things like murder and suicide and police investigations. Mom is right: Finn and Chris are much better equipped to figure out what happened to Neal.
Seamus took the hint and stood to help her clean up. By the time Mrs. Braden returned from seeing Kira out, they were finished. Nina’s mother insisted they take the leftover pizza—no one had been very hungry, so there was quite a lot—with them for the girls.
“Thanks, Mom.” Nina kissed her mother’s cheek. They had a difficult relationship, but at the end of the day she was still her mom. “Maybe I can bring them over this weekend. I know you’ve missed them.”
“Oh, yes! That’s a wonderful idea! Perhaps we could take them for the day. Why don’t they spend the night Saturday?”
“Sounds perfect.” Although they’d expressed dismay when Nina told them she and David were adopting an orphan from Uganda—then shock when they’d brought home two—her parents had always been amazing grandparents, frequently taking the girls for the night so Nina could have some time to herself. Lately they’d begun hinting she should use the time to date someone new. Ugh. As if I have the time or energy for that right now. Her gaze drifted involuntarily toward Seamus and she mentally shook herself. Forget it. It’s neither the time nor the place. And he has a girlfriend. She’d never met Sloane, but the glimpse of her picture on Seamus’s cell phone earlier that afternoon had revealed she was gorgeous, and sexy, and everything Nina had never been. The one time you tried for him, back in high school, was a complete and utter disaster! Remember that.