So This Is Love (8 page)

"I thought you were working on the arson case."

"They're tied together."

"I don't like the idea of you getting involved in a murder," he said with a frown.

"I can handle it. Don't go all big-brother on me."

"I can't help it. You'll always be my little sister."

She smiled. "I get it, but I'm a big girl now." She decided to change the subject. "Are you really going to give up smokejumping, Aiden?"

"I'm not sure. I know what it's like for the wives of the smokejumpers, and I don't know that I want to put Sara through that."

"Are you already thinking marriage? That's big news."

"Not that big. There's no ring yet. So don't get too excited."

"When you do pick out a ring, you should take me with you. I know Sara's taste."

"I'll think about it."

"So much thinking," she teased. "You usually jump, then consider the consequences."

He grinned. "You know me too well."

"I'm glad you're taking it slow. I thought I was in love with Jon, but I was wrong. I'm just glad he never asked me to marry him. I might have said yes. I might have had kids with him, and then we'd be in the middle of a horrible divorce right now. The last thing I ever want to do is put my children through a divorce. Even though I was really young when it happened to my mom and dad, I've never forgotten that horrible feeling when I saw my dad move out."

"I didn't realize you remembered that," Aiden said.

"Some things never leave your memory. Do you remember when your mom died?"

He nodded. "Worst day of my life. But I got a second mom who is wonderful."

"And I got a second dad, who is also great," she said, meeting his gaze. "I wasn't so sure about all the brothers that came with him, but you grew on me."

He smiled. "And you and Nicole grew on us. I can't imagine our family without everyone in it."

"Neither can I."

"I have to run an errand. I'll see you at dinner, Em."

"Okay." As she headed inside the house, she thought how lucky she was to be a Callaway. No matter what happened in her life, she could always count on her family to be there for her, the whole crazy bunch of them.

Chapter Six

Family dinner was excruciating, Max thought. They were sitting in the dining room of his childhood home. The house was the one thing his mother had gotten in the divorce, and it had taken all she had to hang on to it all these years. But after his dad moved out, they'd rarely eaten in the dining room. In fact, his mom had refused to set this table for at least a decade, saying it reminded her too much of his father, Steve.

Why she'd decided to hold this family reunion in the formal dining room, he did not understand. There weren't any good memories in this room, and he didn't think tonight's meal was going to change that.

His mom had cooked up a feast fit for a king, but he didn't think any of them were really enjoying it. The few words of casual conversation they'd exchanged hadn't made it past the salad. Since then the silence had grown tense and uncomfortable.

His appetite gone, Max set down his fork and looked across the table at his brother. His mom had obviously picked up new clothes for Spencer as he now wore a crisp button-down shirt and a pair of gray slacks. He looked more like the old Spencer, the one who'd gone to college, and then gotten a job as a commodities trader, the one who'd been on the fast track to wealth and importance. But that life was gone. Spencer had destroyed it, and he was going to have start over. It wouldn't be easy now that he was an ex-convict.

Spencer met his gaze, but whatever he was thinking was impossible to read. Prison had taught Spencer the value of hiding his thoughts and emotions.

After a moment, Spencer looked down at his plate and forked the last piece of roast beef. Dinner might be awkward, but Spencer had obviously enjoyed having a home-cooked meal for a change.

Max glanced across the table at his mother, who seemed intent on sending him some sort of silent message. She wanted him to break the tension; he just wasn't sure how to do that. His mother and Spencer were far closer to each other than he was to either of them.

But he had to try something. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table. "I looked through some online employment sites earlier, and I wrote down a couple of possibilities."

Spencer didn't bother to pick up the paper. "I can find my own job," he said flatly.

"I'd like to help."

"So you can stop feeling guilty?" Spencer's gaze filled with anger. Apparently, his brother was done hiding his feelings.

He knew Spencer was baiting him, itching for some kind of fight, although he didn't know why. Spencer should be happy to be free, but instead he was extremely pissed off. Obviously, he found some comfort in anger, but Max was tired of being the focus of his brother's rage.

Actually, he was just tired, another reason he should bite his tongue.

"Nothing to say?" Spencer persisted.

"You obviously have a lot to say, so say it."

"Let's not do this now," his mother interjected, giving them both a worried look. "Can't we enjoy the fact that we're finally together again?"

"I don't think Spencer can," he said, staring at his brother.

"No, I can't." Spencer looked him directly in the eye. "You let me go to prison. You let me rot in that hell-hole for seven years."

"I tried to help you. There was nothing I could do."

"You were thinking like a cop and not like a brother."

That was so untrue, it was almost laughable. He'd almost lost his job for interfering with the investigation. But Spencer had never understood the difficult position he had been placed in. No amount of explanation would ever make Spencer see things differently, so Max was done trying.

Spencer threw down his napkin and stood up. "I've had enough."

As Spencer strode out of the dining room, his mother gave him a disappointed look. "I was hoping you two could make peace, Max."

"I'm not the one you should be talking to."

"I know Spencer is angry and bitter, but who can blame him? He tried to save the life of the woman he loved, and he went to prison for it. You have to find a way to reach your brother, Max. It can't be on him. He has enough to deal with. He needs your support whether or not he asks for it or wants it."

He hadn't heard his mom so passionate about anything or anyone in a very long time.

"Please, Max," she said, desperation in her eyes. "He's so angry. I'm worried what he'll do. I'm afraid I could lose him all over again."

"I'll talk to him," he said, getting to his feet. It probably wouldn't help, but he'd give it a shot.

He found Spencer out on the back deck. He was sitting in a deck chair, staring out at the night.

Max took the chair opposite him and for a few minutes there was nothing but the quiet of the night, and in the distance, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked after a moment. "Fight some more? We might as well clear the air."

"I don't feel like fighting anymore."

He was surprised but also relieved. "All right."

A few minutes passed, and then Spencer added, "The flowers smell so strong. It's been a long time since I smelled anything so—pretty. I'd forgotten that the world could smell this way, that the stars could be so bright, that the air could feel so crisp against my face. I can taste the salt in the air, and it's both familiar and very odd."

There was less anger in his tone now, more of a dreamy quality, as if he was experiencing some surreal moment.

"I feel like a stranger in a strange land," Spencer continued. "I don't know how I'll fit in here."

It was the most his brother had said to him in years and revealed some of the vulnerability that Spencer had been hiding behind his anger.

"You have to give yourself some time, Spencer."

"Time has passed so slowly the last seven years. I don't want to waste any more of it." He glanced at Max. "I can't imagine anyone will want to hire me with my record."

"It won't be easy," Max agreed. "But you'll find something. You're smart and well-educated."

"And a murderer. Who's going to trust me? People will probably cross the street when they see me coming."

"You can't think of yourself that way. The worst is behind you, Spence. You're a free man, and you're starting a new chapter in your life."

"A new chapter?" he asked, doubt in his eyes. "I'm a thirty-six-year-old man living in his mother's house. I have no money, no car, and no job prospects."

"That's all temporary." He hated to see Spencer getting bogged down in the negative, but he doubted there was anything he could say to change that. Spencer would have to find his own way forward.

"Where do you live?" Spencer asked.

"An apartment a couple of miles from here. It's a one bedroom," he added.

"Don't worry. I wasn't going to ask if I could move in."

He was happy to hear that. "Mom isn't around that much. She works nine to five at the insurance company. You'll have time to yourself during the day."

"Yeah." Silence fell between them for a few moments, then Spencer said, "Do you know what happened to her?"

His body stiffened at the question he'd hoped he'd never hear. "Are you talking about Stephanie?"

"Who else would I be asking about?"

"Does it matter what happened to her? She let you down at the trial, Spencer. Her testimony was half-hearted and vague. She couldn't remember things she'd told you. She had text messages she couldn't explain. She's the reason the jury didn't believe you."

"I didn't ask for a rehash; I asked if you knew what happened to her," Spencer said, an edge to his voice now.

"You have to forget about her. You can never see her again. This is your second chance, and you cannot let her mess it up for you."

"Is she married?"

He let out a sigh, knowing that he was only postponing the inevitable. If he didn't give Spencer answers, his brother would go looking for them, and that would be even worse. "Yes, she's married. And she has a kid."

"How old?"

"Around two, I think."

"You kept tabs on her."

He had kept an eye on Stephanie because he'd always believed she'd been hiding something, and during the course of appeals, he'd hoped she'd reveal the truth. But she never had.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Spencer asked.

"Boy."

"She had a son," Spencer said, drawing a shaky breath. "We talked about having a child together."

"How can you have an ounce of feeling for her?" he asked harshly.

Spencer looked at him with agony in his eyes. "I loved her more than I've ever loved anyone in my life."

He knew he was being harsh and not at all understanding, but he couldn't support this part of Spencer's re-entry into the world. "You paid for your love. She's moved on, and you need to do the same."

Spencer stood up. "Don't worry about me, Max. I know exactly what I need to do."

* * *

After the Callaway family dinner, Emma went upstairs to her bedroom, grabbed her laptop computer and sat down on her bed. She'd been thinking about Max all evening, wondering how his reunion was going with his mother and brother. While he'd told her the basics, she wanted to know the whole story.

She opened her search engine and typed in Spencer Harrison, then waited for the results. It didn't take long to find a series of news articles about his trial. The first one was from the
San Francisco Chronicle
and gave the basics of the case.

Spencer Harrison, age twenty-nine, a rising commodities trader at Harrington and Stowe, was arrested after a fight outside his girlfriend's apartment building that resulted in the death of Kurt Halstead, age twenty-seven. Harrison claimed that Halstead was stalking his girlfriend, Stephanie Porter. But Halstead's attorneys stated that Harrison had a jealous temper and had mistaken a friendship between the two for something more.

Emma pulled up another article, this one discussing the deceased Kurt Halstead, who was also the son of a former San Francisco Supervisor. That couldn't have helped Spencer's case. She could only imagine the kind of influence the Halstead family might have had on the investigation.

Further searching led Emma to a video shot outside the courthouse the day of Spencer's conviction. A tearful Susan Harrison, Max's mother, spoke about her wonderful son and the miscarriage of justice. Susan wore her brown hair pulled back in a knot, and had on a navy blue suit. She was very thin and quite distraught. Her voice shook with every word, and tears streamed down her face as she looked into the camera and pleaded for someone to help her right a terrible wrong.

Emma's stomach clenched at the raw pain in her voice. It was obvious she believed completely in Spencer's innocence.

What had Max thought?

There was no sign of Max in the video. And he'd told her enough to know that there had been some break in his family. Had that break come with Spencer's arrest? Had Max doubted his brother's story?

He would have been a young cop at the time of Spencer's arrest, and Max had told her that he'd started at the LAPD, so he'd been a long way from the scene of the crime. But he must have gotten involved. It wasn't his personality to stay on the sidelines. He would have contacted the detectives in San Francisco. He would have used whatever connections he had to make sure that his brother got justice.

She really wanted to talk to Max, to ask him what had happened and how he'd felt about it all, but she doubted he'd be interested in answering her questions.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard and then she gave into an impulse and typed Max's name into the search box. The Internet might reveal some secrets about the man of mystery. Maybe if she knew more about him, she'd find new energy to dislike him, because at some point in the last two days she'd found herself softening towards him. She'd seen another side to the cocky cop, a side she liked way too much.

Unfortunately, when his picture appeared on the screen, she liked him even more. Even in a formal police department headshot, he looked handsome, with his brown hair, penetrating green eyes, and very sexy mouth. She felt a tingle run down her spine. How could one man's kiss be so good?