by Tanya Agler
“Thanks.” They reached the lobby, and he made a beeline toward the box of equipment.
“How did she die?”
“What time can you be here tomorrow night?”
Their voices overlapped, and he gestured for her to go first. “I can stay late again. Aunt Mitzi is more than capable of, well, anything. In fact, Colin and Daisy will be fine for a little bit longer tonight.” She led him to the wall of chairs and settled in, curling her long legs underneath her. “If you don’t mind telling me, I’d like to hear more about you. But are you still on duty?”
“I’m done with my shift. Returning the cache was something I wanted to do, needed to do.”
“It’s taken me a long time to be able to talk about how young I was when I had Colin.” She rolled her eyes. “I see what you mean about the past. I haven’t brought this up for ages, so I understand if you don’t want to talk to me about Anne.”
“It’s not you.” He didn’t want her to think that. Talking to her was different. Maybe his family took their cues from his refusing to bring up her death around them, but somehow, she was different. “I’ve put up a wall on purpose.”
Whenever Izzy and Vanessa had questions about that fateful afternoon, he hedged any details, preferring to pass on happier stories of their mother to them. They were young and didn’t need their good memories erased by him recounting her final moments for them. Besides, Anne wouldn’t have wanted them to dwell on her death.
“Then it might be good for you to talk about it with someone new.”
“That’s just it, though. We haven’t known each other long.” He shifted his weight on the hard, cold chair with a sliver of moonlight coming through the domed skylight.
“You have an air about you. Open, like you’ve been friends with someone for ages.”
As much as he’d love to take credit for that, part of this openness was because of her. Communication with Brooke came without effort. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in years.
“She died in a car accident.”
Her gaze remained on him as she shifted her legs under her. “It sounds like there’s more to the story.”
“It’s not pretty.” He should know. He’d run past the mangled metal, past the steam wisping out of the engine, to the door half ajar from the impact.
“I’m not powdered sugar.”
He glanced at her, her amber-brown eyes expressive, almost pleading with him for the rest. Was there already a connection between them? He didn’t know, but Frederick Whitley hired a gem when he chose her.
“I was a detective in Savannah when I noticed someone driving erratically on the interstate.” He’d recalled this story so many times during police interviews after the fact that he’d started speaking in the same tone he used on the witness stand. Objective and neutral rather than as Anne’s husband. Talking with Brooke, however, the emotion flowed through him once more. He no longer sounded like a robot but a grieving widower. “I called it in but, in that split second, the driver crossed the center line and crashed head-on into another car. Afterward, the driver admitted he’d fallen asleep at the wheel and that his license had been suspended for the same behavior.”
Her eyes clouded with concern. “You witnessed your wife’s accident?”
“Anne was on her way to pick Izzy and Vanessa up from school when the other driver hit her.” He hesitated but continued, “I couldn’t get there in time to stop the accident.”
He jumped up, not wanting to look into her eyes. Pity and sympathy were always the two main reactions when someone found out he’d witnessed his wife’s fatal car crash. That, and a reassuring pat on the arm or clap on the back. Months after the accident, he’d wanted someone to treat him like Jonathan, still alive, still breathing, still worthy of love.
That was one reason he moved away from Savannah. Too many memories haunted the dripping moss of Anne’s favorite Southern live oak trees, the soft white sand of the beaches, their old house with the leaky main bathroom faucet he always promised to fix and never did.
He grabbed the box and strode to the entrance. The front door was locked, though, and he had to wait for Brooke to unlock it. “What about you, though?” Brooke asked. “Are you okay?”
He faced her. “I usually get an ‘I’m sorry’ followed by cooed murmurs of consolation. That is, if the person doesn’t smile, nod and run for the hills.”
“Understandable reactions, but I’m asking about you.” She wiggled the keys and stepped on the sensor. The door slid open. “You can run for the hills, or you can talk. Your decision.”
Why was this woman, this complicated, unexpected surprise, reaching those parts he’d closed off?
He set the box down and moved out of the way of the electronic eye.
“That first day? Signing the organ donation form was the moment it hit me Anne wasn’t coming back.” He took a deep breath and tried to slow his thoughts. “A couple of years ago, though, I received a letter from the heart recipient’s mother, who wrote me the night of her daughter’s wedding about what organ donation meant to her family.”
“Was that one of the hard days or one of the better?”
“Both.” He’d admitted more to her than he had to Caleb, his cousin and best friend. While he was on the subject of difficult admissions, he’d best be truthful about Izzy and Vanessa. He picked up the box and winced at what he had to get off his chest. “As a matter of fact, I’m thinking of withdrawing my daughters from your program.”
A muscle in her jaw clenched. “They’ll be here in broad daylight with trained staff all around them. I treat every child that comes through these doors like I treat Colin, and every adult the way I’d want to be treated.” Her eyes reflected the honesty behind every word. “You want to know me, look around you. This center is important to me, and I’m dedicated to making it a haven for some, a fun place to hang out for others.”
These weren’t phony lines. This was her personality, a peek at the real Brooke, fiery and passionate underneath the cool facade.
He had to take a lesson from her playbook and become more reserved and cautious. He couldn’t pursue anything with her. Not right now. Then there were all the what-ifs in his life he had to get under control. What if they hired the other candidate as detective? What if the perpetrator behind the fake IDs became violent?
What if he lowered his shield of corny jokes and one-liners and let her see the real Jonathan?
“I’ll wait to make sure you leave safely. Good night.” He fled to his squad car without giving her the chance to say another word.
He slammed the trunk door and groaned. What just happened? Had it been so long since he’d been attracted to anyone other than Anne he’d forgotten how to act around a woman as interesting and caring as Brooke? Had his heart shriveled to a size smaller than the Grinch’s? At least the Grinch had a heart at the beginning.
He’d have to go back. He ran away, and he knew it. Casting doubt on her abilities when all she’d done was ask him about his feelings about Anne was low. She seemed to genuinely care when so many gave him a cursory “poor Jonathan.” With a glance over his shoulder, he stood motionless as one by one the lights of the building went out.
Maybe he wasn’t afraid something would happen to Izzy and Vanessa as much as he was afraid something else could happen to another person he cared about under his watch. Maybe he cared too much already, which was ridiculous considering they’d only met, and not under the best of circumstances at that.
All he had to do was get in the car and wait to make sure she drove off safely. That was the easy choice, the choice that would keep him from risking loss again. She exited the building, her purse in hand.
Eating crow wasn’t as tasty as his favorite chocolate puff cereal, but even he knew he needed to make things right.
That was the easy part. The hard part would be doing everything within h
is control to keep from falling for her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BROOKE LOCKED THE automatic door and double checked it for good measure, her heart rate slowly returning to its normal even keel. This night hadn’t gone the way she’d hoped.
For a while, she sensed something different about Jonathan, a spark between them unlike any she’d experienced before. But tonight he cast doubt on her. Well, on her abilities, but those were one and the same. He didn’t trust her with his children. If the people of this town didn’t trust her with their time and lives, how could she make a difference for them?
“Brooke.”
She jumped. She faced Jonathan, her hand over her chest, her heart thumping faster than ever. “You scared the living daylights out of me. I thought you were watching from your police car.”
“Sorry about that. I guess I’ve worked on my stealth skills too long. Two daughters will do that to you.”
The street lights overhead caught the twinkle in his hazel eyes, radiating security but still holding a wicked amount of charm, before his shoulders slumped. She couldn’t tell whether he looked younger with the top button of his uniform shirt unbuttoned or older without the smile she already associated with him.
Once she calmed herself, Brooke pushed the strap of her tote bag, containing her tablet and other resources, to the top of her shoulder. Her composure had served her well these past few years. “You’ll do fine as a parent of teenagers if you keep up your stealth.”
“But I’d be remiss as a person if I left without apologizing. From what I’ve seen, you’re a welcome addition to Hollydale. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
She blinked, his apology throwing her for a loop. The lights were brighter than the dim interior of the center. That must be why her eyes were stinging. “Thank you. Have a good evening.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
Her protest died on her lips, and she accepted his courtesy as merely that, a nice gesture from a police officer doing his duty. They fell in step beside one another, that comfortable kind of walking that always made the distance seem shorter than it was. And yet, what she felt for him went beyond comfort. This electricity was new, and she didn’t trust it.
She pressed the keyless remote for her trusty compact from a couple of yards away, the ping-ping breaking the silence. When they reached the driver’s side, she shuffled her feet, too conscious of him as a person, more than just the uniform he wore.
“If you’re worried...”
They said the same words in unison.
She met his gaze and laughed. He held out his palm as an obvious gesture for her to go first, so she did. “If you’re worried about your daughters’ safety at the center for the week of Heartsgiving, drop by this weekend for our first annual Trunk or Treat. That should give you an idea of the center’s energy as well as some of the new safety measures.”
“If it’s anything to do with Halloween, that sounds right up Vanessa’s alley.” He grinned, and this time the smile touched his eyes. “When and what is it?”
“On Saturday night, it’s a fun event with a contest where people decorate the back of their SUVs or the trunk of their cars with a theme of their choice. Most will wear costumes to match and give out candy or treats to the other guests. They can take a break to look at the cars and collect candy for themselves. The center will award a prize for the best decorated trunk and the best costume. The cars will remain in a roped-off area so everyone can walk around safely. I’m also handing out tote bags and talking up our new activities.” She glanced at the area that would be transformed into a Halloween funfest soon. “Guess we didn’t advertise well enough if you didn’t know about it.”
“I’ve been busy. Now that I’ve heard about it, we’ll try to drop in.”
Once again, that smile was too endearing. She fumbled with the keyless fob before dropping it, the clang on the asphalt echoing in the still night. She bent down at the same time he did, and her head banged into his. “Ouch.”
She grasped the fob, and they rose at the same time.
He stepped toward her. “Are you okay? If I’ve been told once, I’ve been told a thousand times I have a hard head.”
He was close enough for her to smell soap and sweat and pine trees rolled into one. For a second, she stopped breathing and stared at his kissable lips. Was he going to kiss her?
His head neared hers, and she licked her lips. It had been a long time since she’d kissed a man. Online courses while working multiple jobs, dud dates and Colin were the tip of the iceberg about why she hadn’t dated more in the recent past.
Then he stepped back, and she found her breath once more. He rubbed the edge of his uniform sleeve. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe leaving here by yourself at night. It’s my duty as an officer.”
The grin left his face, and her chest ached. He hadn’t wanted to kiss her after all.
“Thank you, Officer Maxwell.” His title was a good reminder of his presence at the facility tonight. If the fake ID mastermind was using the center as his drop-off location, she’d have a hard time explaining to Frederick Whitley why she chose to keep the police operation a secret from him, and a harder time keeping her job.
Another move wasn’t in her future. Keeping this professional and businesslike was for the best. She’d made a promise to Officer Maxwell, and she’d honor her word.
He dipped his head and stepped back while she slid into the driver’s seat and drove home. As she made her way to Aunt Mitzi’s front door, the screech of a night owl cut through the air, the three subtle calls a reminder of the late hour. She unlocked the door, and Daisy jumped on her, a greeting of sorts. Her dog always provided a happy welcome at the end of the day.
Brooke reached over and turned off the porch light, and the living room was bathed in darkness. “Good girl.” Daisy barked, and Brooke raised her finger to her lips. “Shh. I don’t want you to wake up Aunt Mitzi.”
Someone switched on a light, and Brooke adjusted her eyes to the brightness. Aunt Mitzi sat on the sofa, sipping from her glass of water, her gaze showing every expectation of receiving some juicy tidbit about Brooke’s boring, nonexistent love life.
“Too late. I’m wondering if Mysterious Cute Guy has anything to do with why your cheeks are pink.”
“Sorry. Nothing for the beauty salon tomorrow.”
Hurt flashed in Aunt Mitzi’s eyes. “Brooke Amber. Do you really think I only asked that so I could gossip about you?”
Her cheeks warmed. “Old habits.”
Aunt Mitzi shifted on the couch, and Daisy left Brooke’s side and leaped onto the cushion next to Mitzi.
Traitor dog. “See you tomorrow.”
“Brooke, you know you’re not alone anymore, right?”
Her throat constricted. It had been a long time since anyone had said anything like that to her. “For years, I’ve had to depend on myself.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t offer my spare room earlier. You could have finished your online degree anywhere.”
Brooke shrugged but kept her distance. “I was supporting Colin.”
“More like you needed to make sure no one stole from you again.” Aunt Mitzi took another sip. “Yes, I know what my sister did to get rent money.”
“If it had just been for the rent, I could have understood.” Instead, her mother had blown Brooke’s hard-earned dollars on a week of partying.
“I’m sorry. I should have interfered, but I was reeling from finding out about Dwayne’s infidelity.”
“We were both betrayed by people we loved.” Another bond, but one she wouldn’t characterize as good.
“I learned a long time ago it’s easier to get through hard times with a friend. I don’t know what I’d have done without Patsy Appleby.”
“Your friends think the world of you.”
Aunt Mitzi placed her glass on t
he end table and petted Daisy, who leaned into the touch. “It’s taken a long time to build those friendships. Most good things don’t happen overnight. Hyacinth sometimes comes off like a chatterbox, but she’s fierce. Tina’s tough, and Fabiana? If she’s in your corner, watch out. She’s feisty and loyal. And you know Betty after working with her for a couple of weeks.”
The warmth from Brooke’s cheeks spread to the rest of her. “I’m going to turn in.”
“Don’t be afraid to ask for help, Brooke. I’m here.” She scratched behind Daisy’s ear and winked. “Except when I’m out with Owen. I love you, you know.”
“Sometimes it helps to hear the words.” Brooke headed upstairs, her aunt’s talk comforting and disconcerting at the same time. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to be able to depend on family. While Colin was an old soul, growing up fast, faster than she realized now that he was dating, she’d never hindered him with details about bills and tuition payments.
Aunt Mitzi, though, listened and cared. That wasn’t something she was used to. Daisy bounded beside her, nudging Brooke’s hand with her snout. Brooke obliged the cute gesture for attention, made all the more poignant by people who were starting to accept her. Needing someone wasn’t what she often did, but maybe being in Hollydale was the place to start.
CHAPTER NINE
THE FIRST FROST of the season brought a bite to the air. Jonathan relished the coolness against his cheeks while appreciating the orange and maroon foliage of the maples along Creekside Road in front of Mo’s Gas and Bait Stop. Officer Jillian Edwards exited the passenger side of Jonathan’s squad car and joined him with six photographs under her arm.
“It’s days like today when I miss Florida.” She pretended to shiver.
“Nah, this is a beautiful morning.” Especially compared to the lake-effect snow already falling in Chicago. It would be that much more beautiful if this photo lineup proved Colin’s innocence. “Thanks for interviewing Mo for me.”