“You’ve talked about kids, and you say it’s not serious?”
“It’s not like…He told me about his breakup with his ex. His not wanting kids was part of their problem.”
He sat there, eyes unfocused—the way he always did when digesting information. “Did you tell him about Todd?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You obviously trust this guy. Why do I get the feeling it’s more serious than you want to believe it is?”
“Maybe because you got hit on the head and are imagining things,” she snapped.
“I don’t think so. But I think it’s unfair.”
“What’s unfair?”
“That I wind up in a coma while you fall for some hot blond without me getting to hear about it.” He cleared his throat. “I missed the fun part.”
She frowned. “It wasn’t all that fun. I thought my best friend was dying. In fact, if you hadn’t been in a coma, you’d have kept me from doing this!”
“Are you kidding? You needed to be laid. Besides, I’m too stubborn to die.” He chuckled. “Is he good in the sack?”
“I’m not talking about that.”
He smirked and shut his eyes.
She sat on the corner of his bed. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”
He looked up. “Thank you, for everything.”
“It’s what friends do.” She caught his hand and squeezed.
“So how’s this party with Armand’s cousin going to go down?”
“It’s not until Thursday.”
Carlos paused, then said, “I don’t like it. If this guy—”
“You know I can handle myself.”
“Shit happens, Brie. Look at me. I’m worried.”
“Well, stop. APD’s got this.”
She believed it. She did. The bone-cold chill running through her didn’t mean anything.
“I’m not crazy about the idea either.” The deep, familiar voice echoed behind her. “But I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe.”
Brie looked up to see Connor standing at the door. Emotion washed over her. He was right there, yet she was already missing him.
Chapter Thirty
The ride to Henderson was hard. Brie sat in the passenger seat, worrying about Candy and unsure of what to say to her dad. She didn’t know what to say to Connor either.
He’d been quiet. She’d been quiet. The GPS spoke more than they did.
Were they already trying to say goodbye? Why did the right thing have to hurt? Maybe because she’d done wrong by letting anything start between them. Hadn’t she known the first night she’d kissed him that it was a mistake?
“Agent Bara dropped by my office before I left the station,” Connor said. “He said the FBI has assigned a senior agent to the Baton Rouge office. And he’s been asked to return to Louisiana. Supposedly, there’s going to be an in-depth look into the whole unit.”
Brie closed her eyes. “I owe him an apology. I thought—”
“It was an investigation. You were doing your job.”
“No, I was on leave. And even if I weren’t—”
“Your partner was shot.” Connor’s phone dinged with a text. He stopped at a red light and grabbed it from the cup holder to read it.
“What?” she asked when his expression soured.
“Juan’s been going through the evidence from Allen Madden’s place. There was a computer. On it was evidence that Madden’s roommates were trying to sell the baby.”
Brie’s gut knotted. “Sell her?” Her heart tightened painfully. “I’m so fracking tired of seeing the seedy side of life!”
“That’s the hazard of working in law enforcement.”
“Yeah.” She looked out the window and muttered, “I should’ve opened a cupcake shop instead of joining the FBI.”
“You wanted to open a bakery?”
She glanced at him. “No, I just think it’d be nice to be surrounded by things like cupcakes, icing, and sprinkles. Good things. In a cupcake shop, everything smells sweet and people are happy. Instead, I’m surrounded by hit men, human trafficking, and scum who’d sell a baby.”
Connor didn’t get a chance to respond as his GPS said they’d arrived. He pulled into the parking lot.
She looked up at the building with a sign that read RONAN REALTOR. Squaring her shoulders, she told herself she was ready to face the music. But who was she kidding? She didn’t even know the lyrics.
They both exited the car. When she got to the door, she recalled the last time she’d seen her father. He’d kissed her on her cheek. “Bye, pumpkin.”
“You okay?” Connor asked.
“Yeah.” Hell no!
“Do you want to lead this, or do you want me to?”
She met his gaze and was certain he saw everything she felt.
“We can play it by ear,” he said.
She nodded.
He touched her arm. “Last night. Being with you, cooking pancakes, watching boring TV, and waking up with you, that was…It was the good cupcake stuff.”
His words eased the ache in her chest. “Yeah.” If only it wasn’t ending.
The door to the office swung open. A man stepped out then stopped abruptly. His hair was light but touched with silver. His eyes were blue, light blue. “Bye pumpkin.”
His gaze zeroed in on her. “It’s been a long time.” No shame, no regret, no emotion, sounded in his tone. How could he not feel anything when her chest was a swarm of emotions? Had she never meant anything to him?
“I’m Detective Pierce.” Connor’s hand rested on Brie’s lower back. A touch meant to offer support.
Her father turned back to her. “I wasn’t aware you were coming.”
A collection of memories played in her mind like an old movie reel—he handing her a souvenir from his latest trip, sitting at the end of the table with a glass of Jack and Coke, walking out the door with his suitcase.
“Sorry to surprise you.” She forced herself to speak, not wanting him to know that seeing him hurt her.
“Do you have an office where we can talk?” Connor asked.
Her father frowned but walked back inside. She followed. Head high. Shoulders tight. Remembering what it felt like to have your heart broken by your first hero.
Motioning to the two straight-back seats in front of a big mahogany desk, he slipped into the larger cushioned chair behind it. She sensed he’d chosen the furniture in the room to make himself feel important—to make anyone on the other side of the desk feel small. It worked. She felt about seven.
How could she have loved this man? Were children just conditioned to adore their parents? To yearn for their love, acceptance?
“So what’s so important that it required a face-to-face meeting?”
Connor spoke up. “When was the last time you spoke to your daughter Alma?”
“I don’t remember exactly.”
“Did you know she had a baby?” Brie blurted out.
Her father’s gaze shifted to her.
“Did you?” she asked again. In the corner of her eye, she saw Connor settle back in his chair.
“I offered to help…take care of the problem.”
“An abortion? You wanted her to kill your grandbaby?” Suddenly this wasn’t about her but about her sister. If Brie was let down by this man, what must her sister have felt?
His expression hardened. “She wasn’t ready to be a parent. She was using drugs.”
“But she wouldn’t do it, would she? She wanted the baby. So she got sober. Did you ever even see your granddaughter?”
He stiffened his posture. “She came by once.”
“Does Alma’s mother know about the baby?”
“She told Alma the same thing I did. That she should give it up to someone who could care for it properly.”
Connor spoke up, his tone filled with animosity. “Why didn’t you mention the child when you reported your daughter missing?”
“Well, I…For all I knew she’d given it away
. She was flighty.”
“Who’s the child’s father?” Brie asked, her heart hurting, realizing that like her sister’s parents, she’d let Alma down.
“She never said. I assumed she didn’t know.”
“What else did you keep from us?” Connor asked.
“Nothing,” her father said. “I told the police what I knew. And I don’t like being accused of doing something wrong.”
Brie slapped her hand on his desk. “The right thing would have been helping when she asked for it.”
He pushed away from the desk. “Why is this coming up now? Have you found the child?”
“Yes,” Brie said. “No thanks to you.”
Her father put up his hands. “Well, I can’t take her. I can’t deal with a child.”
“Don’t worry,” Brie said. “I wouldn’t let you near her. You know, there was a time in my life when I thought Alma was the lucky one. Because you chose her over me. But now I know—I was the lucky one.”
Brie stood so fast her chair fell back. She looked at Connor. “He makes me sick. I’ll wait outside.”
“Don’t judge me.” Her father jumped up and went around to block the door.
“Get out of my way,” Brie said.
He didn’t. “I didn’t choose to leave you. That was your mother. She told me to leave.”
“She said to get out of her way!” Connor’s words echoed loudly. Seriously.
When her father didn’t heed the warning, Connor picked him up by his shirt and pushed him against the wall. “In my ten-year career as a law enforcement officer, I’ve met some lowlife fuckers. But you outshine them all.”
“Stop!” Brie put a hand on Connor’s back. “He’s not worth it.”
Connor released her father, who slumped against the wall as they left.
Tears clouded her vision when she crawled into the front seat. Connor got in and started his car.
“He’s a piece of kangaroo dung.” Using her language and smiling.
As much as she knew he was trying to help, she couldn’t even smile. Her heart hurt. Her chest hurt. Her head hurt.
“I’m sorry,” Connor said, his humor dying a short death.
“Yeah.” Eyes on the window, she watched the world go by as he drove back to Anniston. She didn’t still love her father. But somehow a little girl inside her still had a broken heart.
* * *
Eliot had called to check on how things went. Just talking to him brought a knot to her throat. She cut him short and said she’d see him in a bit. Thirty minutes later, Connor parked beside her car at the hospital.
Brie turned to him. “Is there anything I can do to help search for Candy? I could—”
“Brown has ten people chasing down every possible lead. And there aren’t that many to begin with.”
She nodded. “I hate thinking…Can you imagine how scared she is?”
“I know.”
Her chest filled with liquid pain. “She’s like my sister. She has no one in her corner. No one who cares.”
“She has you.” He put his hand on her shoulder. His touch sent even more pain across her tender nerves, landing with a thud in her chest.
“You want to come to my place tonight?” he asked. “I’ll grill some steaks and we can watch the antique show again.”
Brie’s head ached and Connor’s question made it throb harder. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Then I’ll come back to your place.”
She swallowed, her throat raw. “I don’t think that’s a good idea either.”
“Brie, Armand could get to you. We talked about this.”
“I’ll stay with Eliot or get Eliot to stay at my place.”
He drew in a loud breath. “What did I do now?”
“You didn’t do anything. But can we stop pretending there’s nothing wrong? The longer we let this go on, the harder it’ll be to—”
“Even if you move to San Francisco…we could visit. I have tons of vacation time.”
“You know it’s not just about the move.”
A wrinkle appeared between his brows. “No, I don’t know. I don’t know shit. What’s this about?”
“We’re on different paths.”
“Paths? I don’t—”
“You don’t want kids, Connor. And I’m about to become a parent.”
“Where are you getting…?” He cupped his hands behind his neck and squeezed. “That’s what you got out of our talk? That wasn’t the damn point. And I never said—”
“I know that wasn’t all you were saying. I know you cared, and your ex blamed you for something that wasn’t your fault. But in that information was the fact that you didn’t want—”
“No! Damn it. This isn’t even about that. This is you being scared. This is you seeing your dad and being afraid of letting anyone close.”
She opened her mouth to deny it but couldn’t. “Seeing him made me remember what the odds are of someone letting me down. Even someone I believe in.”
“And you don’t believe in me?” He sounded angry, hurt, desperate.
“From the start, you’ve made it clear that you don’t do long-term. So yes, it’s fear. But fear is a tool we use to navigate our lives. It makes us see the risks. And this is too risky.”
With nothing left to say, she grabbed her phone, her purse, and her bruised and battered heart and got out of his car.
* * *
“You look like you lost your best friend,” Flora said.
The diner was extra quiet tonight. There was only one other customer, a man sitting in the front, reading a book. It wasn’t time for the drunks yet.
Connor looked up from the newspaper. Not that he was reading it. It just gave him something to focus on besides the damn hole in his chest. He’d quit trying to sleep around midnight and had driven here.
“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate, yet Flora stood there, as if expecting he would. “I’ll take the usual.”
“So the blonde didn’t like your pancake party?”
He hadn’t told her who he’d been planning on cooking pancakes for last night, but she’d obviously guessed. “I’ll bring the frying pan back tomorrow. Sorry.”
She frowned. “No. I’m sorry.” She set a cup on the table and filled it with coffee. Then she pulled four creams from her apron and dropped them on the table. “I was hoping she would help you.”
“Help me what?”
“Be happier. When she came here and shared your food, you…you lost the sadness in your eyes.”
That hole in his chest suddenly felt larger. “You think I should be happier? Even when…when I’m the reason you’re sad?”
She set the coffeepot on the table and dropped into a chair. “At one time, I would have said no. I blamed you. I blamed you so I wouldn’t blame myself.”
“Yourself?” He didn’t understand.
“He was not a bad boy. Moses was trying to help me pay for the insulin for his sister. The month before, he had brought me money, I asked him where he got it from. He told me he was working at a grocery store, but I knew he was lying. I knew he had gotten the money doing something illegal.” Tears filled her eyes. “But I took it. If I had refused it, he would have stopped.”
Tears slipped down Flora’s cheeks, and he forgot his own pain and felt hers. “You were desperate.”
“I was wrong. So I blamed you. For a year, I lived off that hate. Then I went to the prison and spoke with Carter, the boy you arrested for killing your partner. I wanted to know that Moses was not part of the shooting. I wanted to find a lawyer and make you go to jail because you had wrongly killed my boy. But Carter told me the truth. That Moses had fired. That he was scared. That he just wanted to get away. That they both just wanted to get away.”
“It wasn’t your son’s bullet that killed my partner,” Connor told her.
“I know. But you did not know that in the moment, did you?”
“No.” Connor wiped a hand over his face. He hesitated for tw
o painful seconds. “I’ve wished a thousand times that I’d tried harder to get your son to surrender. I did tell him to throw down the weapon. To come out. But another gun went off, and I didn’t know if it was him shooting or the other guy. Had I known he was a kid…”
She nodded. “When you started coming here, I still wanted to hate you. Then I saw your eyes, and I knew you hated yourself. Like I hated myself. And somehow, I knew. I went to the church and demanded to know who gave the money every month to help pay for my daughter’s medicine. The pastor didn’t want to tell me but I made him. I almost didn’t take it anymore. But I couldn’t afford not to. And it would have made Moses’s death even more senseless. I should have said thank you, but I knew it would require me to admit my own blame. It was easier to stay silent.”
“I know.”
She nodded. “But I went to the pastor last Sunday. I do not need the money anymore.”
“Why? You get a better job?”
“I start work next week at the hospital. Before my husband left us, I was going to school to be a nurse. I only had one more year. The reason I started working third shift here was so I could finish school. I graduated last month.”
“Congratulations.”
She nodded. “It is because of your money that I have been able to go to school. Now, I want to pay it back. I have kept a record of all you have given me.”
“No. The money is from my mother’s life insurance. She would’ve wanted you to have it.”
A few more tears filled her eyes. “She was a good woman. And she raised a good son.”
“Thank you.”
“If you do not take the money then I will…how do you say? Pay it forward.”
He smiled. “Yes.”
“Like me, you need to let go of the blame. I am almost there.”
He pulled his coffee over. “Yeah.”
“So what happened with the blond lady?”
He opened a creamer and added it to his cup. “I think she has things she needs to move past, too.”
Flora nodded. “Then maybe you should not give up on her. If we can heal, maybe she can, too. Or maybe you two can help heal each other.”
That’s what he’d thought, too, but…“She’s moving to San Francisco. She doesn’t want me in her life.”
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