How could someone’s life be so ruined, so young?
It was a question that had haunted her since walking out of that interview room. One she hadn’t been able to shake since.
Though she still considered herself young, not even yet thirty, she felt light-years away from Johnson. She had a job helping others. She had a family she cared about. And while things had certainly gone beyond sideways with Tate, her gaze had been firmly on her future.
Yet young men like Gunther traded their futures for violence and some sort of temporary accolade from an employer who couldn’t care less about them. Worse, one who found him disposable. It was a strange sort of belonging, doing business in an organization like Capital X. It didn’t make sense. And on a bigger level, she knew it would never make sense to her.
With that sobering thought, her mind drifted to Brody. For far too long, she’d only seen him not as a foster brother, but as the young man her father had been helping before her parents had been senselessly murdered. Although the cases weren’t related, she’d conflated them in her mind in a sort of resentful stew that had taken her several years to get past.
A fact that shamed her now.
Especially because all her siblings had pretty much taken to Brody. He hadn’t been ready for the pressures of real life, nor had he had any resources. Save one.
Her father, Graham Colton.
In his role as district attorney, her father had taken an interest in Brody’s case, determined to prove his innocence in a murder trial. It was a crime her father had been convinced Brody hadn’t committed. His tenacious work ethic had ultimately proved the young man innocent.
It was Graham’s belief in Brody—and her siblings’ desperate need to find some meaning after their parents’ deaths—that they’d taken Brody in as their own.
And ensured that he would have a better shot at a future than being left to his own devices.
It had mostly worked. Brody had built himself a future, ultimately going to college and law school and working hard to make something of himself. He was only a year younger than she and Vikki, but he’d always seemed younger, somehow. And when she wasn’t being stubborn, frustrated and—she’d own it—acting like the baby of the family, she knew he deserved better.
Something she’d come to understand since the RevitaYou case had been cracked wide open. Brody wanted more out of his life, but it was his investment in RevitaYou that had knocked him down.
Terribly.
And every step he’d worked for and pushed for over the past decade had seemingly vanished overnight.
She knew her feelings about Brody weren’t simple—especially the quiet one that liked to sneak in and claim he’d taken precious hours of her parents’ time in the months leading up to losing them—but she knew she needed to think differently.
Vikki’s voice echoed in her head—just like it did every time Sadie mentally went down her Brody rabbit hole. You can’t live his life for him, Sadie. And you need to cut him a break every now and again.
Although she had spent a lot of time working toward Vikki’s approach to Brody, she couldn’t deny he still had a future. And a rather bright one, in fact, once they got past this RevitaYou mess.
Something Gunther Johnson would never have.
Tripp closed his office door behind him, their continued secrecy at Sadie’s presence in the office still in full effect. “Why the sad face?”
“Just a lot to think about.”
“Gunther Johnson?”
“Yes, mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“I was thinking about Brody, too.”
Tripp’s gaze narrowed. “Brody Higgins?”
“That’s the one.” She waved a hand. “It’s complicated emotions.”
“I know I said it before, but I’m a good listener.”
He was, but in this case she wasn’t quite ready to share. She wasn’t proud of how she felt about Brody and wasn’t quite sure how to put voice to those frustrations without her own biases coming out.
“Maybe some other time. What I was really thinking about was Gunther Johnson. And the fact that he’s basically traded every bit of his future.”
Tripp took the chair next to her, one of the two seats opposite his desk. “I was thinking along the same lines as we talked to him. He’s set his future on a boss and an organization that see him as disposable.”
“But he doesn’t see it,” Sadie said.
“No, I don’t think he does.”
“It puts one more check mark in the Tate-is-a-world-class-jerk column.”
Tripp cocked his head, and she saw the thoughts playing through his mind. Curious, she pressed on. “You don’t think so?”
“Oh, I won’t argue the world-class jerk point. In fact, I’ve used a few more choice descriptions. But I’m not sure I would let Gunther off so easily, either.”
“He’s a kid.”
“He was a kid when he started at Capital X. Now he’s a young man. Let’s not lose sight of the choices he has made and continues to make.”
“You mean like not helping us?”
“That, yes. He’s been in here for two and a half months and, other than seeing a shot at reducing a Murder One charge, he hasn’t done a whole lot to help himself.”
While she didn’t want to give her bleeding heart too much credit, she couldn’t ignore Tripp’s counterargument. And it would be highly perilous to give too much sympathy to a dangerous criminal like Johnson. “Something to think about.”
“Yeah, it is. One of the unexpected bonuses that come with this job.”
She heard his light chuckle, one without any trace of humor, before she continued. “Does it ever get to be too much?”
“Some days.”
“What do you do about it? On those days when it gets to be too much.”
It was something, Sadie realized, she really wanted to know. How did Tripp manage the pressures of his job? Both the dangers he put himself in, and the human depravity he saw on a regular basis.
“Believe it or not, a burger usually helps.”
Whatever she was expecting him to say, that wasn’t it. “Thinking of your stomach?”
“Always.” He leaned back and patted his delectably flat abs. “But, seriously, a beer on the back porch as I get the grill going? It usually helps.”
They hadn’t talked about their kiss the night before. In fact, they had both sort of silently agreed to ignore it. But in that quiet moment of camaraderie and solidarity, Sadie couldn’t resist a bit more human touch.
Extending a hand between their chairs, she turned it palm up. “Want to go home and make a burger?”
He hesitated, and she thought he might be looking for a way to avoid making contact. Until his large hand came out, taking hers firmly in his own. “I think that’s an outstanding idea. Let’s go.”
* * *
Gunther Johnson stared up at the ceiling of his jail cell and considered the conversation with Sadie Colton. He figured Tate was pissed about the whole Capital X thing, and the exposure Gunther had unleashed, but he’d done right by the boss, hadn’t he?
He was the one who’d got Greer the address to the safe house. And he was also the one who’d kept his ears wide-open since he’d been inside this hellhole.
But killing Tommy?
It sent a shudder through him. And, damn it, it made a man think, too. Tommy had been a big man in the organization. Tate had always joked with him, making it seem like Tommy was indispensable.
Then he’d killed the guy?
Gunther’d had the briefest suspicion that Sadie had been lying about that, but her description of Tommy was spot-on. And there was no way she had made up that bruise on her jaw. While he didn’t have sympathy for the cops, he’d never taken Greer for one to go around hitting women, either.
And damn
, the boss had played her. Gunther had watched it all from afar and knew way more than he had let on to the cops. Tate had worked her and worked her, making her feel so special, telling her how important she was. And all the while he’d kept poking around in her files, trying to get more details on the GRPD and on her family.
Yeah, Gunther knew who the Coltons were. Everybody in this part of Michigan knew who the Coltons were. And that was what Tate had wanted when he’d gone after their precious baby girl. Information from the easiest in he could find.
Gunther had quietly listened when Tate would laugh about her, mentioning an upcoming “date” or weekend trip she was all excited about. Greer had laughed and laughed, like she was the dumbest mark he’d ever seen.
Only she hadn’t seemed dumb today. In fact, if he had to guess, she was smart as hell and was now nursing a serious vendetta against Greer.
It made her dangerous. And, he wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself, sort of hot. Those sexy green eyes had sized him up and he’d liked it. But he wasn’t dumb enough to let his dick do the thinking. Sadie Colton was in that interview room today for a reason and he had to figure it out.
Before he ended up as dead as Tommy.
CHAPTER 8
Tripp took a long drag on his beer as he checked the temperature of the grill. He could already feel some of that relaxation and sense of calm returning, just like he’d told Sadie.
Even if the woman was driving him a little out of his mind.
He glanced down at his hand where it rested on the edge of a chair that went with his backyard dining set, and could feel the way her smaller one had fit so neatly in his earlier. He’d nearly held back when she’d stretched out her hand, but after the day they’d had and the underlying sadness of their conversation about wasted futures, he hadn’t been able to resist.
A situation he continued to find himself in, more and more.
Determined not to dwell on the things he couldn’t have, Tripp considered the conversation with Johnson. Sadie had been impressive, her interview skills incredibly advanced. Whether it was her role as the youngest of six that had made her a good negotiator, he wasn’t sure, but she’d hit all the right notes.
She had also left him something to think about when it came to whom Johnson had had ready access to.
Tripp had pulled the log files for the past month before they’d left his office and included anyone who had been on duty at the prison or had checked in for any reason. He wanted to settle into them after dinner.
Sadie came through the back door and out onto the porch. Even though it was December, he had set up heaters at both ends and it made for a cozy space outdoors.
“You’ve got quite a setup out here.” She looked around. “Those space heaters are incredible. I never would’ve expected you could sit out here, no matter how many heat sources you put up.”
“It’s a bit of an oasis. Add that I like to grill and needed to find some way to do it year-round.”
She slid a plate of uncooked burger patties beside the grill. “Nicely done. And proof that one should never underestimate a man’s ingenuity when it comes to his ability to cook meat outside.”
“You’ve made a study of it?”
“My brothers love it. Griffin, especially.” Sadie smiled at that, and he saw the clear and genuine affection on her face. “Though I suspect he’s grilling less now that he’s got Abigail and baby Maya in his life. I’ve really missed seeing that little one for the past month. She’s got to be changing every day. And I missed her first birthday.”
Tripp saw the brief bit of sadness and tried to cheer her up. “You’ve got two things in your favor on that count. First, she likely didn’t realize it was her birthday. And second, a well-placed gift from a doting aunt is always a happy occasion.”
“You’re right.” Sadie picked up the beer he’d left for her on the table and took a sip. “You’re also surprisingly optimistic. I’m not sure I would’ve thought that about you.”
“You think I’m a downer?”
“No.” She seemed to consider her words. “But you are serious. And I think I’d likely misjudged that seriousness for negativity.”
“I have my days.”
“We all have our days. But here you are in the midst of a highly stressful case and yet you’ve still found numerous opportunities to make me feel better.” She lifted her beer to his in a toast. “Thank you for that.”
He clinked his bottle to hers. “You have to admit, you kinda make it easy. You are the sunshine of the Colton family.”
She set her beer down, a look of horror on her face. “Oh no, that’s what you really think of me?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Sunshine? The next thing you’ll tell me is that I’m cute like a baby kitten and should be patted on the head for my efforts.”
“That’s not what I meant. Although, what’s wrong with being cute?”
“At the risk of borrowing too heavily from Susan Sarandon’s rant in Bull Durham, let me tell you, a woman would far prefer to be called sexy than cute.”
“Can’t you be both?”
“In my experience, people tend to prefer to put you in one category and leave you there.”
He suddenly realized they weren’t talking about cute or sexy, but something that ran far deeper. Something that felt a lot like the lifelong expectations others carried for you.
“It’s hard to be the youngest?”
“Probably no harder than being the oldest or the middle or anywhere in between. But when it’s your life, it does have its challenges.”
“Your family cares about you.”
“Yes, they do.” She smiled, with a benevolent sort of acceptance. “And I love them back. But it doesn’t change the fact that we drive each other nuts on a regular basis.”
“It’s nice to have that.”
“You don’t?”
He didn’t, and while it wasn’t something he thought about often, faced with someone who had five siblings, it was interesting to compare. “No. I was a late-in-life baby and it was just me.”
“I would imagine that has its challenges, too. We may have our fair share of sibling spats, but they’re there for me. And I can’t imagine life without them.”
“Like you said, we know what we’ve lived. I don’t think about it all that often. Mostly, in conversations like this one, when it’s hard to really picture myself in your situation.”
She studied him, keenly interested in what he was saying. Although he got that sort of ready acceptance at work, it was rare to have a personal conversation with someone so present, so thoroughly in the moment.
“What situation is that?” she asked.
“The assumption that because they dote on you, they don’t see you as a fully capable person.”
He wasn’t sure where he was going with this, nor was he sure why he felt it was his business to butt in. But that hadn’t seemed to stop him with any conversation they’d had so far. In fact, an odd intimacy had sprung up between them, where he didn’t really feel the need to hold back the things he was thinking.
“It’s not an assumption, to be honest. It also comes from their actions and the things they say.”
“What do they say?”
“About what? My job? My personal life? Where I’m going to live? Who I’m going to live with? What my future looks like?” She stopped, a broad smile suffusing her face. “Gee, that’s sort of whiny, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t use that term.”
“Then your mother clearly raised you right. But even if I quit my bitching, I can’t say I’m entirely in the wrong about them. My brother Riley had a really difficult time when I went out for the force. And Kiely and Pippa, as the older set of twins, love playing mother hen to Vikki and me.”
“You don’t do the same for them?”
&nbs
p; Her eyes went wide at the suggestion. “Of course not. Like they would take that from me.”
“Then you didn’t see what I saw. Last night at the hospital, for instance. I was waiting out in the hallway and I could hear the way you maneuvered the end of the conversation. You were quick to shoo everybody on after they’d hovered too close. They listened to you.”
She reached for her beer, her gaze fully focused on him. “There you go again, making me feel good. And seen.”
“Because you are.”
“So you say. But I think it’s something else. You see a lot, Tripp McKellar. It’s interesting and affirming, and a little unnerving.”
There was that idea again, about being seen. He’d gotten the sense the night before that he’d touched her with his words in the SUV. Statements that he took as simple fact, about her competence and her capabilities. Yet she clearly saw it as so much more.
“That’s probably because I’m prying again.”
“No, I wouldn’t put it that way. You see things, because you’re an observer. Things that sometimes the person in the middle can’t see very accurately or without being clouded by their own judgment.”
“Only-child observer syndrome?”
“Maybe.” She tilted her head, considering. “Maybe it’s something more.”
“Too many years on the force, being suspicious of anyone and everyone?”
“That one probably has a bit of merit. But it makes you a good detective.”
He saw the split second of hesitation, curious as to what she held back. Every moment they had spent together over the past twenty-four hours had suggested Sadie hesitated over very little. Yet even with his curiosity, he couldn’t quite reconcile that with the serious way she looked at him.
Ducking away from her close observation, he tilted his head toward the edge of the patio. “I should probably get the burgers on.”
He moved to the grill but stopped when her hand reached out and settled on his forearm. “I do think it’s something else, Tripp.”
Without his even asking, she continued. “I think you’re a good man. An all-the-way-down-deep good man. And I’m afraid there aren’t nearly as many of you as I had believed there would be when I grew up.”
Harlequin Romantic Suspense December 2020 Box Set Page 10