Authors: Mary Burton
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Thrillers, #Suspense
She didn’t think about where she was going because she knew if she thought too hard about her destination she’d find a way to second-guess herself. Going to Brody was getting to be a habit. A bad habit. And if she had sense, she’d find another way. But right now, she couldn’t think of another person to be with when she opened the box.
Fifteen minutes later, Jo walked through the main doors of the Rangers’ Austin office and stopped at the reception desk. ‘Is Ranger Winchester here? Jo Granger to see him.’
‘Let me check.’ The officer cast her a skeptical gaze when he announced her on the phone. His eyes widened with a startled surprise. Brody was coming.
Seconds later, Brody emerged from a side door. Jacketless and hatless, he had rolled up his sleeves to reveal tanned, muscled forearms. ‘Jo, is everything all right?’
A week ago he’d called her Dr. Granger. Formality had been a polite barrier between them. Somewhere along the way that fence had dropped and awareness had developed. They’d never be lovers again, but maybe there could be room for friendship. She certainly needed a friend right now.
‘Is there somewhere private where we could talk?’
‘Up in my office.’ He pulled the box out of her hands as if he understood she hated touching it.
She flexed her fingers as they made their way to his office and didn’t release the breath she was holding until he closed the door behind them.
‘Who sent you the box?’
She explained about Gentry and the call.
Brody’s jaw tightened, released. ‘First the visit. Now the box. Smith can’t stay out of your life.’
‘Don’t forget the letter.’
‘Smith didn’t write it. It’s a great forgery.’
She smoothed her hands over her skirt, trying to erase the weight of the box from her hands. ‘They’re taking over my life.’
‘No, they are not.’ Brody reached in his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife, flipped it open and pressed it to the old, cracked tape. ‘I’m going to open this?’
A single nod was all she offered as she folded her arms over her chest and watched.
With a quick, sure stroke he pulled the blade over the tape’s crease between the lid and the box and sliced it open. Carefully, he removed the top.
Inside were stacks of letters. He picked up the first and studied the address. ‘It’s addressed to you. Dated twenty years ago. March 24.’
She frowned. ‘My birthday.’
Inside was a birthday card featuring a pink bunny and a large number twelve. Smith had written a note, which Brody read. ‘Jo, wishing you all the best on this important day of your life.’
It had been her twelfth birthday and the card included a picture of her at her one beauty contest. Her hands trembled a little when she studied the picture of her hideously teased hair and heavy makeup. She’d been holding the fifth-place trophy. Off to the side her mother grinned and beamed.
She closed her eyes, absorbing the enormity of the moment. ‘He believed he was my father.’
Brody studied the other envelopes. They were all birthday cards, written and dated in sequential order.
Her gaze remained locked on the picture. ‘He couldn’t have been more than twenty feet from me.’
‘Do you remember anything about that day?’
‘Only that I did not want to be there. My head itched from the hairspray, and my dress was so tight I couldn’t breathe. Mom was in her glory, and I was miserable.’
‘Did your mother act strange that day? Did she notice anything?’
‘If she did, I never knew. She was all about the pageant that day.’ She shook her head. ‘And Smith was right there watching.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I’ve asked Mother directly if he is my father and she becomes offended. Which, of course, is classic avoidance.’
‘Happens in the best of families.’
Her attempted smile fell short. ‘Brody, could he really be my father? I mean I know I never fit into my family, but lots of kids feel that way. Doesn’t mean anything. But now as I look at this, I’m afraid.’
‘Jo, don’t borrow trouble.’
She lifted her gaze to find his boring into her. ‘I didn’t go looking for it. It came to me.’
Brody was all about action … the battle plan. ‘We’ll go to the DNA lab and get you tested right now.’
We. A unit.
‘I’ll get by the lab soon.’ Days ago, she’d have marked the idea insane. Now she couldn’t deny a possible connection.
‘Let’s go now and take care of business.’
Absently, she shook her head. ‘And what if he is my father?’
His expression was as practical as his tone. ‘You’ve got a biological fact you can tuck in your file box and forget.’
It was that simple, and it wasn’t. ‘I’d be the daughter of a serial killer.’
He shrugged. ‘I remember how you talked about your dad, your real dad. It was clear he loved you.’
‘Biology is a powerful predictor.’
He arched a brow. ‘I don’t buy it.’
She tipped her head back. ‘This is like a bad dream.’
He rose and closed the gap between them, coming short of touching her. ‘
If
it’s true. And
if
it is, remember it is a fact you have no control over. A fact that does not undo who you are.’
He was right, of course. A quirk of genetics didn’t define her. Why did she feel as if she’d done something wrong?
Jo had left Brody’s office and gone directly to the medical lab for the DNA test. Brody had wanted to go with her, been annoyed when she’d said no and only been soothed when she’d promised to share the results as soon as they arrived.
She’d picked up the test kit just before the office closed. She’d swipe her cheek. She would. Just not right this second.
Jo arrived at the Austin bar where the
Find Christa!
group had gathered after seven. The bar was loud, smoky and full of laughter. She wasn’t fond of bars. All the revelry, the laughter – neither fit her well. Work, dedication she understood, this culture she did not. As tempted as she was to turn and leave, she didn’t, reminding herself she knew these folks. Had spent countless hours in the cold, searching for Christa. Though they’d all come from different walks of life, they’d shared a bond that merited a drink.
Across the bar in a private room she saw a group of folks and behind them the battered
Find Christa!
banner that had hung on the side of Tim’s truck.
Straightening her shoulders, she went to the bar, ordered a white wine and cut through the crowds toward the group. She didn’t see Rucker but spotted several faces she recognized.
A redhead with pale skin and aqua glasses approached her. ‘I’m Casey. I remember you. Jo, right?’
She extended her hand. ‘I think we were on a couple of the search teams together.’
‘Cold day from what I remember. Wind kinda cut like a knife that day.’
Jo sipped her wine and decided it tasted decent. ‘Not the best of circumstances.’ Across the crowd her gaze connected with Tim’s. He raised a beer and smiled.
‘Tim’s got a lot to be proud of,’ Casey said. ‘A hero in my book.’
She smiled. ‘He does.’ She glanced around the room. ‘I don’t see Scott or Ester.’
‘Tim said they were too torn up to come. I can understand. I’m not sure if I could be here if it were my sister.’ Casey took a deep sip of her beer. ‘Were you at the funeral?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Sad. Real sad. You see that Ranger there?’
‘I did.’
‘Badass. I’d hate to have him on my trail.’
Jo sipped her wine. ‘Yeah.’
Casey finished her beer. ‘How did you get recruited into the search? Were you a friend?’
‘No. Tim was my Realtor.’
‘Oh, me too.’ A short guy with thinning hair pushed through the group up to Jo and Casey. He tossed a halfhearted smile toward Jo before focusing on Casey. ‘Hey, I was hoping you’d be here.’
Casey grinned. ‘Luke. Great to see you, man. Hey, did you meet Jo?’
He tore his gaze from Casey for a moment. ‘Jo, nice to meet you.’
She smiled, amused by his clear adoration for Casey. ‘Luke.’
‘Hey, Jo, do you mind if I steal Casey for a moment? I got something I’d like to show her.’
Jo shrugged. ‘Have fun.’
Casey stopped and turned. ‘Jo, I almost forgot. I have a message from one of your friends.’
‘Who?’
‘Aaron. He was on his way in here tonight but received a last-minute call. He told me to tell you he’d catch up with you soon.’
Her smile froze. ‘Aaron?’
‘Yeah.’
Aaron Dayton. He was out there. Interfacing with people she knew.
Luke tugged on Casey’s hand. ‘Nice meeting you again.’
‘Yeah, sure.’
‘Bye.’ Casey sounded breathless and excited as Luke took her by the hand and led her away.
Anger and frustration prodded Jo. Dayton was like a spider.
Tim shouldered his way through the crowd toward her. He picked up on her tension immediately. ‘What’s wrong?’
If her anger weren’t raw and fresh, she’d have done a better job of hiding it. ‘There’s a man. He’s stalking me.’
Tim cocked his head. ‘Who?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It does.’ His gaze scanned the room. ‘Is he here?’
‘No. He was outside and sent a message through Casey, who has no idea what he’s doing.’
‘Jo, who was it?’
‘Aaron Dayton.’ She sipped her wine and struggled to regain her composure. ‘Hey, I’m okay. It was likely nothing.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. You look rattled.’
‘No. I’m fine. Really.’ Grateful for a familiar face, her smile warmed. ‘Nice crowd.’
He searched the room. ‘Yeah, good group of people. I’m glad they could all come and support each other.’
His aftershave hinted of spice. ‘Weird seeing a Ranger at the funeral. But good Christa’s case is still on their radar.’
‘It is. She deserves justice.’
Tim’s expression turned grim. ‘The day I heard about her death was one of the hardest of my life. I was sure that we’d find her alive.’
‘You did an amazing job. How many volunteers did you muster?’
‘A couple of hundred. I wish we’d found her. Damn.’
Casey and Luke called out to Tim. They wanted him to say a few words.
Tim tried to wave them off but finally nodded acceptance. ‘Sorry, got to go.’
‘Don’t be sorry. You should speak.’
She watched him weave through the crowd. Men patted him on the back. Women shook his hand. Jo set her glass down, suddenly a little suffocated by the crowd.
As Tim spoke, she turned and made her way through the bar. Outside, the cool air washed away the stale air and the tightness in her chest. She dug her keys out of her purse and took two steps before she heard a familiar voice.
‘You should have had those keys in hand before you came outside.’ Brody.
Tensing, she turned, grateful it wasn’t Dayton. She thought about telling Brody but caught herself. He was a habit she had to break. ‘Do you always follow Texans around and offer safety tips?’
His hands tucked into the pockets of a heavy, worn, brown jacket, he pushed away from the pub’s wall. ‘Only ones who have their nose stuck in books.’
‘I wasn’t studying. I was socializing.’ Being close to him steadied her.
‘Something I’ve heard you don’t do too often.’
She shrugged. ‘Times change.’
Amusement danced in his gaze. ‘See anyone of interest?’
His height and size tempted her to step back, but she didn’t. ‘Why are you here?’
He leaned a little closer. ‘Thought you might have picked up something of interest with that group.’
‘The noble cause that brought them together is quickly vanishing, and they are fast becoming a group of people enjoying a drink and a laugh.’
‘Nothing that caught your attention?’
As she tucked a stray curl behind her ear, she considered telling him about Dayton but rejected it. She did not need him hovering. ‘There is a guy inside who looks like he wants to score with a chick named Casey.’
He cocked a brow. ‘Imagine. A man in a bar looking for a woman.’
‘Tim was giving a nice speech when I left about community spirit and commitment.’
‘Why didn’t you stay for the show?’
‘I’ve heard his speech before. He used it to rally the volunteers before each search. A little bitter now knowing Christa is dead.’
‘We wouldn’t have found her if not for you. Smith only spoke to you.’
‘He wanted to talk. He knew he was dying, and he didn’t want to take his secrets with him.’
‘Don’t bet on it. He’d have taken the secrets to the grave.’ He hesitated. ‘Did you go to the lab?’
She moved toward her car. ‘I did.’
‘Take the test?’
Astute. ‘I will in the morning.’
He followed, slowing his pace to match hers. ‘Results take two or three weeks, which gives you an end date.’
‘If the test is negative. But if it’s positive, the trouble’s just getting started. My mother will not be happy.’
‘She’ll survive. Better to have the truth.’
With a click of a button, she unlocked her car door. ‘That’s what I always tell my patients. But after a lifetime of lying, the truth is scary.’ She stopped at her car. ‘This is my stop.’
‘Always better to know, Jo.’
‘I’ll keep telling myself that.’
He opened her door for her. ‘Be careful, Jo.’
‘You keep saying that.’
‘Smith tangled you up in this mess. And he might be dead and gone but his little helper is not.’
She slid behind the wheel. ‘You think his apprentice has a bigger plan?’
‘I do.’ He braced one hand on the door and the other on the roof of the car. ‘Did you call the security company?’
‘In the morning right after the DNA test.’
‘Don’t delay on that, Jo.’
‘I won’t.’
He slammed her door closed, and she started up the engine. As she pulled away, she glanced in the rearview mirror. He was staring at her.
Jo’s head throbbed when she pulled into her driveway after nine. The day had not only been long but chock-full of so many unwanted emotions.
Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she sorted through her keys. She found the gold key, and as she pushed it toward the lock, the dog next door barked and howled, startling her. She looked toward Rucker’s house. His Lab, Greta, was inside and had heard Jo arrive. As with most nights when Jo arrived home the dog barked.