Remote Consequences (22 page)

"Allyson Harlow," Ty said. "But what would she be doing stealing your car and picking up Paget?"

"I don't know exactly, but I know she's involved with Officer Trask, and I know he's involved in this case somehow."

"This case? You mean the Caden Brooks case?"

I nodded and then wiped my face with the back of my hand. I watched as his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

"Mandy, if one of my officers is involved in this mess then why didn't you tell me before now?"

"I don't know." I swallowed, and my throat felt absolutely swollen shut.

"You don't know?" He sounded incredulous.

"Colin and I have been trying to figure this out, but—"

"You and Colin? Geez, Mandy!" He stepped back and looked down at the ground. His hand went to the butt of his gun, which was attached to a hip holster on his belt.

"Don't yell at me," I said. Tears threatened the back of my eyes again.

"Uh, Detective Dempsey." Adam's voice sounded from nearby, but neither of us looked his way. We were too busy glaring at each other.

"Detective Dempsey." This time Adam's voice was a little louder.

"What is it, Adam?" Ty broke our stare-down to acknowledge the boy.

"Isn't that Ms. Murrin's car right there?" Adam pointed to Main Street, which ran just above the school.

I jumped up out of the car and we both focused on a Hollon Brothers' tow truck as it slowly made its way down the street. Its yellow light was flashing on top and Stella was chained to the back end. Stella's front end was smashed.

I screamed.

The tongue ties knots that the teeth cannot loosen. –Irish Proverb

Paget was missing. Stella was wrecked. And I was a bundle of raw nerves and energy. So I spent the remainder of the evening cleaning the house. The thing is…I never clean. Unless I'm frustrated. When something is bothering me, I clean. The real kind of cleaning that people do about once a decade. The "crawling around on the floor and scrubbing" kind of cleaning. The "polishing the tile's grout with a toothbrush" kind of cleaning.

I was worried, frustrated, and more than a little bit pissed off. I wanted to blame someone, and the more I scrubbed, the more I wanted to find Allyson Harlow and punch her face in. What kind of dangerous games was that hussy playing?

I'd skipped dinner, and that was serious business. Ty had all but forced me to go home after we'd stopped the Hollon Brothers' truck and asked about how they'd come into possession of Stella. Apparently, Stella had been driven into a tree just blocks away from the school, and they'd gotten a call from the mailman when it had blocked his way in finishing his afternoon route. No one had seen the driver, and no one had seen Paget.

We were back at square one. And even though Ty and I suspected Allyson, we didn't have any hard proof that she was the one who'd picked up Paget. At my insistence, we'd driven by her apartment, but she hadn't been there. Ty had asked me to go home while he checked on her whereabouts and put together a search team for Paget. And he was going to question both Officer Trask and Matson Mills.

I'd gone ahead and spilled the beans about his fingerprints being on my drugged-up cocktail glass at O'Hannigan's. Ty had given me another deep frown and scolding headshake when I'd told him how I'd come into the information. He'd told me that the evidence would never stand up in court because of how it was illegally obtained and the fact that the chain of evidence was nonexistent.

I'd shrugged. I didn't really care about that. I didn't care about this stupid case. I only cared that Paget was found safe and sound. I wanted my sister back.

He'd taken me home, and Adam had agreed to drive Ms. Lanier's Caddy back to her. Ty had told me that he had to get the captain and the chief involved at this point. I didn't trust them, but he'd told me that procedure was procedure and that my opinions of the captain were a moot point.

I wanted to be the one out there searching, but he'd told me that being at home where she could find me was the best thing. I'd argued but had finally admitted he was right. When he'd mentioned that I should remain alert for a ransom notice, I'd crumbled into his arms.

The thought had been sobering and terrifying. I'd come home and turned into a cleaning, non-eating machine while I waited for news—hopefully good news—from Ty.

I tried not to panic. Paget had gone missing many times before. But the nefarious way in which she was picked up at school and my wrecked car left me feeling wrung out.

Half an hour, a phone call from Ms. Lanier, and two more clean rooms later, and I was bent over the side of the tub, trying to make the screw in the drain cover fit back in when a voice sounded behind me—almost making me fall headfirst inside.

"Very nice."

I slipped forward and dropped the screwdriver, making a loud clanging sound as I saw the inside of the tub rushing toward my face.

"Whoa…" A strong hand grabbed my arm and set me to rights before slowly lifting me backwards and helping me regain my balance.

I turned to look into the eyes—well, the toned abdomen—of Colin Brooks.

Heat flooded my face at the sight of him, and words started to spew forth.

"You. You are the person to blame here."

He took a step back, obviously caught off guard by my sudden mood swing.

"What are you doing here, anyway? Here to drop some more mysterious hints about things and then disappear? Here to bring me food and then take off when the cops get here—you're really good at avoiding them. Or…or…what are you here for? How do I even know that you
are
Colin Brooks? Maybe they were right. Maybe you are crazy like your mother. Maybe you killed Caden Brooks and you've just been sending me on a wild goose chase all week." I started running out of steam by this point in my rant, but something in his face had changed.

His face tightened, eyes locked with mine. A vein throbbed at his temple, and the scar I'd thought was charming before seemed to scream trouble at me. He was all business, and I hadn't seen this look in all the time I'd known him. It was downright scary, and I was suddenly more than a little afraid.

Oh, good job, Mandy. Go ahead and accuse him of being a murderer while you are here alone in the house with him and you're down on your knees with no weapon in sight. Brilliant!

He reached for me then, and I flinched. He stopped and then reached out again and helped me to my feet.

Now, face to face, I smelled his scent of clean linen and something spicy…just a little spicy…like…like…spiced orange…nutmeg and…a cup of warm tea that I wanted to snuggle up with? Oh, good grief. I was just plain starving again, but this man smelled amazing and my moments-ago fear had turned into…something entirely different.

His eyes softened, the thumb of his left hand traced the line of my jawbone, and his eyes searched mine.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he pressed his thumb over my lips and shook his head. He leaned forward as if to kiss me.

Did I want to be kissed by this man?

I didn't really know him. He was full of this mysterious past. He liked to disappear. He was mysteriously employed by the government. He may have been involved in his father's murder. He brought me food…he knew how to communicate with my sister…he looked and smelled just great…he was…

Not going to kiss me. I realized this just as I closed my eyes and felt the tip of his finger brush against my upper lip. Sort of a flicking-scooping-type motion.

I slowly opened one eye and then the other. He stared down at his finger, where a smudge of gray goop sat upon the tip. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed it. I tried to think of a way to inconspicuously crawl under the bathroom counter.

He looked up at me. "Caulking?" I nodded, and he shrugged. "You've been busy." He reached over and snatched a single square of toilet tissue off the roll and cleaned off his finger before tossing it in the trashcan.

I remained speechless and mortified.

Thankfully, he broke the silence. "How much do you want to know about me?"

Miraculously, my voice decided to work despite the fool I'd just made of myself. I waved my hand in front of me. "Everything."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Well…more than I know now, anyway."

He nodded. "Let me show you something." He reached down into the waistband of his jeans. I drew in a sharp intake of breath. What exactly was he going to show me?

He stopped moving at my reaction and then made eye contact with me. He smiled, and I blushed. He must think I was some desperate chick who craved male attention.

He was at least half right. Which half, I wasn't sure at the moment.

He continued his search and soon revealed a four-by-six photograph. I wondered if hiding pictures in the waistband of your jeans was some special trick they taught him at spy school.

As he lifted it up between us, there was a photo of a younger Caden Brooks, the same gray eyes as Colin, a beautiful blonde woman, and a toddler with a mischievous grin on his face.

I knew that grin. I'd just seen it right in front of me.

*  *  *

I took the photo and held it in front of me, studying it carefully. Something about the image haunted me, but I couldn't exactly figure out what it was. I flipped it over and read the back.
Caden, Maggie, and Colin on Christmas Day.

"This is you and your parents?" It came out as a question, but I already knew the answer.

"Yes. This was the last time we were all together. Shortly after that, my father started hitting my mother. She threatened to go to the police. He threatened to declare she was crazy and have her locked up. She took me and left town, and he made sure that all traces of us were erased."

"Wow. That's one way to tell your life story. Abbreviate much?"

"Mandy, it is not something I like to talk about much, but my father was not a good man. I never really got to know him, but there were times when I wanted to. Shortly before he was killed, I made contact with him. I wanted to seek him out. I needed to."

I reached out and took his hand. He gave it a short squeeze.

"Come on. Let's go to the kitchen. I brought you something," he said.

I tossed the screwdriver on the counter and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was frayed around the edges and partially loose from my effort at a pissed-off ponytail. My makeup was smeared, but at least my face was now sans the caulking paste. Then I lost sight of myself as he pulled me into the hallway.

When we arrived in the kitchen, I found Pickles lying there at his feet, chewing on a very large stick of something that looked like beef jerky. He grunted at me as I passed him. "You are so easily bought off." He grunted again.

A box of orange Tic Tacs sat at my place at the kitchen table.

I exhaled. This man may be full of mystery, a big fat snoop, a liar, a criminal. Heck, I had no idea what or who this man really was—but he knew how to make a girl happy. He knew how to make girls
and
dogs happy. He paid attention to things—the details. That's what he was—a detail man. If I only knew what the heck he was up to, he could very well be the man of my dreams.

He made his way to the counter. "I brought you one of the strawberry pies from the Back Porch. Ms. Maimie said it was one of your favorites."

"You spoke to Ms. Maimie about me?"

He pulled a knife from the drawer and started to slice up the pie. "Yes, when I heard about Paget…I knew you'd need a little something. Do you want one or two pieces?"

I sat down. I should feel insulted or embarrassed that he thought I would pig out on two pieces, but… "This feels like a two-piece kind of situation."

He grinned as he set down the plate in front of me. He was so infuriating…but cute. Insanely cute. At least something good could come out of this day. A hot guy serving me pie.

"Thank you."

"Mind if I join you?" Colin stood above with his piece of pie.

"Yeah. Yeah. Obviously you just come and go at will. What did you hear about Paget and why weren't you here when I needed you?"

He bit the inside of his cheek at my comment. I hadn't really meant to say it out loud, but the thought had been there and my filters weren't exactly working right today.

He sank into the chair and scooped up a bite of pie before responding. "I'm sorry about that, Mandy. Ty and his guys are out looking for her and I didn't think it was a good idea for me to stick my head into it right now. But if you want me to…just say the word."

"Not right now. I don't want to be alone. And, frankly, if you don't distract me here, I'll be out there searching for her with my Maglite." It had gotten dark outside and I wondered if Paget was alone or scared or hurt.

That was when I caught it—the look on his face. The first time I'd been able to read emotion on his face. I was actually seeing him for the first time, and it kind of felt good. It was only there for a second, and then it was gone. I had a feeling that he didn't get caught off guard too often.

"But I might need you to meet with Ty at some point."

His eyes bored into mine. He was the type of man that was rarely surprised—he had a knack for surprising everyone else, but he rarely had someone come at him, I could tell.

He placed the photo on the table and took a bite of pie. "Now why would I want to do that?"

"Colin, why me? Why did you come to me to help you with your father's case? How did you know that it was him—just based on overhearing my conversation with Penny that day? And why come back now?"

I didn't believe that Colin had anything to do with his father's death, but I wasn't one hundred percent sure of it. I did think that he knew more than he'd shared with me, and I intended on finding out what. Tonight.

"Mandy…" He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. I noticed the muscles in his forearms. It hadn't been the first time I'd noticed his arms and their attractiveness, but this time I followed them up to his throat, and I swore I could make out his steady pulse at the base of his neck.