CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Thankfully, the night passed without incident. Brandon woke to find his phone had no missed calls. His shoulder throbbed but wasn’t painful enough to keep him down. In the bathroom, he popped three Advil tablets, showered, shaved and decided he was ready to face the day.
After a cup of coffee—or three.
In the kitchen, he found Jordan sitting at the table reading the morning paper on his iPad. “You get any sleep last night?” Brandon asked him.
“A little.”
“You didn’t have to play bodyguard, you know.”
“I know, but you slept better knowing I was doing it, didn’t you?”
Brandon let out a short laugh. “Yeah, actually I did.”
“Then it was worth it. How’s the shoulder this morning?”
“Sore.”
“You need me for anything today?”
Brandon shook his head. “No.” He glanced at his phone. “I’m waiting for Hector to get back to me on a few things. I need to know where Ms. Gold is and I want to know about the ballistics report. Once I have those two things, I’ll be able to plan the next course of action.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and added cream and sugar. “Other than that, I plan to send Max and Peter home and spend the day with Sonya, making sure she’s safe.” He took his first sip of the brew and closed his eyes with pleasure. Three more sips and he felt himself start to wake up.
“You don’t think it’s over.”
Brandon looked at his roommate and lifted a brow. “Do you?”
Jordan shrugged. “I don’t know. But I think you’re doing the right thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Staying on guard, until you know for sure.”
He nodded and slipped into the chair opposite Jordan. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Of course not. You’ve never asked permission before.”
Brandon smirked. “Right.” He sighed. “How’d you know Katie was the one?”
“Ahhhh…”
“What’s that mean?”
“Sonya.”
Brandon flushed. “Yeah.”
Instead of teasing him like he thought he would, Jordan turned thoughtful. “You know, when we first met, she was looking for Molly. Erica was a basket case and I wasn’t exactly in a good frame of mind. But last year—” he shook his head “—when Katie was in all that danger because she was looking for her sister and we were working together, something just sparked, you know?” He lifted a shoulder. “She was spunky and determined and—hurting. But she was a fighter and I really liked that about her. Like eventually turned to love.”
“She and Sonya sound a lot alike.”
Jordan nodded. “Then she’s a keeper.”
“It’s looking like it.”
“But?”
“But you know my history. And you know about Krystal. How do I know Sonya will be able to deal with my baggage? My family?”
“You don’t. Until you trust her with it.”
“Right. Easier said than done.”
Jordan hesitated. “You know, it’s not my place to lecture you, but your parents are trying to do the right thing. If you’d let go of all that anger, there’s still time to build a relationship with them.”
Tension immediately filled Brandon. “You sound like Peter.”
“Sounds like Peter’s getting some smarts.” Jordan shut off the iPad and stood. “On that note, I’m going to go into the office.”
“And I’m going to head over to Missy’s.”
“You want me to follow you?”
Brandon paused. “It’s on the way, so why not? Keep an eye on my tail and see if you spot anything.”
“Will do.”
Brandon arrived at Missy’s house with no tail in sight. As Jordan pulled away with a wave, Brandon wondered if he’d crossed the line onto the paranoia side. Max gave him a salute and left. Brandon knew he and Erica were having breakfast together. Peter lingered at the curb, so Brandon walked over to speak to his brother. He had the window down and was sipping on coffee he’d brought in a thermos. “How’s it going?”
“It’s been quiet.” He lifted the thermos top posing as a cup. “Good thing I had this stuff or I would have been snoozing.”
“But you didn’t snooze, right?”
Peter’s face darkened. “Of course not. You gave me a job to do and I’m doing it.”
Brandon let his gaze linger on his younger brother’s face. “Yeah. You are. And you’re doing a good job, too. Thanks.”
The darkness cleared and Peter swallowed. “It’s the least I can do. You’re giving me a second chance.” He snorted. “Or maybe it’s a third, fourth or fifth chance. I don’t know. I’ve lost count at this point, I guess.”
“I’m not keeping track. You’re putting your life back together. That’s all that matters.”
“Are you coming to Mom and Dad’s for dinner Sunday night?”
Brandon straightened and, at the mention of his parents, felt the familiar squeeze in the vicinity of his temple. “No.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.” He kept his words low and even, not letting them explode like he wanted to.
Peter snorted. “They’re trying, Brandon. They were young and on their own and didn’t know what they were doing. Can’t you find a way to forgive and move on?”
For a second, he almost relented. But the bad memories crowded out the moment. “I…I…can’t. It’s too late.”
Peter sighed. “Don’t you want a relationship with them?”
Brandon flinched. “No. Not really.” As soon as the words left his lips, he realized they were a lie. He did want a relationship with his parents. He just didn’t know how to get over the past. How did he let go of all the disappointment and hurt that had been such a part of his life? The pain that had shaped him into part of who he was today? He shook his head. “No, I’m not ready for that. Not yet.”
“Will you ever be ready?”
“That’s a question I can’t answer right now.”
“You know, in rehab we talked a lot about forgiveness—forgiving ourselves and asking forgiveness of others. Been going to church, too, and listening to sermons on the topic. It’s been pretty eye-opening.”
Brandon took a step back and planted his hands on his hips. He opened his mouth, but Peter lifted a hand to cut him off. “I’m not giving you a speech, just saying bitterness and an unforgiving heart can be as destructive as cocaine or meth. I may be the recovering addict, but you’re the one who needs some rehab. Some heart rehab. Think about it.” He cranked the car and drove off without another word.
Brandon let his brother’s words rattle around in his brain for the next ten seconds. Then he turned to find Sonya standing behind him, face bright red, looking awkward and uncomfortable. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Or eavesdrop.”
“It’s a long-standing argument. Don’t worry about it.” He managed to get the words through his clenched teeth.
She chewed her bottom lip for a moment and he waited for the question. “Is he right?”
“No.” His conscience shouted liar, but he ignored it.
“Hmm. Okay.”
He motioned to his car. “Come on. I don’t want you standing out here in the open.”
“The shooter’s dead, remember?”
“Right, but until we know for sure that this is over, I want you inside.”
“Okay.” She sighed and turned to go back into the house. He followed her, head swiveling left then right. He saw nothing that alarmed him, but wasn’t dropping his guard. “Want to grab some breakfast?”
She eyed him and shrugged. “Sure. Are you feeling okay?”
“Food will take my mind off the aggravation.”
“All right, then. Just let me get my purse.”
“Hey, bring those pictures Don gave you, okay? I want to look over them.”
“Sure.” She disappeared inside.
Brandon’s internal struggle didn’t cease just because Peter had left and Sonya’s all-seeing eyes were no longer on him. He stepped onto the porch and sat in one of the white wicker rockers. He let his gaze roam the street, probing into the shadows, watching for anything that looked as if it shouldn’t belong. Even as he stayed alert and focused on his surroundings, Peter’s words continued to ring in his mind. Bitterness and an unforgiving heart can be as destructive as cocaine or meth.
On an intellectual level, Brandon knew his brother was right. On an emotional one, he wanted to deny it. He remembered after Peter came home from rehab, one of the first things he’d done was ask his family for forgiveness. And Brandon had granted it without reservation.
He wasn’t bitter or unforgiving; he was apathetic. Toward his parents, anyway. They hadn’t needed him when he was younger, hadn’t been supportive or even very caring. They’d been indifferent—and selfish. More focused on having a good time and partying than they’d been on raising kids.
It wasn’t that he was even still angry with them. Was he? Brandon snorted. Yes, he was. He was angry, but he didn’t need them. Or their sudden desire to be involved in his and his siblings’ lives.
He flashed back to a day at the park. He’d been about eight years old. They’d had a family picnic, and he recalled laughter and his father pushing him on a swing, high-fiving him after his descent down the slide.
Brandon blinked. Where had that come from? Had he made it up? No. He remembered the park. He frowned. Were there other good memories he’d suppressed in his determination to hold on to his anger?
“I’m ready.”
Her soft voice pulled Brandon from his thoughts. Casually dressed in a pink tank top and khaki capris, he thought she looked beautiful. Even the stitches covered by a small Band-Aid at the base of her throat didn’t detract from her loveliness.
He rose and took her elbow to help guide her down the steps and over to his car. Warmth radiated from her and he swallowed. She was warm and compassionate, caring and generous. Everything his ex-fiancée had appeared to be on the surface. She’d enjoyed the status dating him had given her among her friends. Dating a police detective had been a big deal to her.
Until she’d gotten tired of the long hours. And the fact that he didn’t make enough to support her in the lifestyle she wanted.
He wondered if Sonya would be able to handle it. As a nurse, she understood long hours and hard work. The irony of her profession hadn’t escaped him. A nurse. Just like his mother. And yet, the two women seemed vastly different. He just couldn’t picture his mother as compassionate.
Then again, he hadn’t really been around her that much lately to make that judgment.
But he didn’t think he could possibly be wrong.
* * *
Sonya wondered if Brandon could possibly be wrong. Wrong about it not being over. Ever since the shooter’s death, things had been quiet.
Ominously quiet?
Maybe. She shivered.
He drove with precision. She watched him navigate the roads, clearly thinking deeply about something, yet attentive and aware of their surroundings.
He glanced at her and caught her watching. She flushed and looked away.
“Why did you become a nurse, almost a doctor?” he asked.
She blinked at the random question. “Because I care about people, about helping them.” She shrugged. “And I like science and medicine. The human body is a fascinating, intricately designed machine. That intrigues me.”
“Do you plan to go back to school and finish the classes you need to become a doctor?”
“Yes. As soon as I can.” Sadness engulfed her. “My mother would want that. She felt so bad that I had to quit school to come back and take care of her.”
“Did she have any brothers or sisters?”
“No, both she and my dad were only children.”
Brandon pulled into the parking lot of one of the downtown cafés. As they walked into the building, he placed a hand at the small of her back to guide her. She shivered, feeling the warmth of his touch. First her elbow, then her back. He was comfortable enough with her to offer the simple touches. Innocent gestures that spoke of a growing closeness.
And she was comfortable enough to accept the touches—and the growing closeness. If only he could resolve his issues with his family. But he said he didn’t date clients. Which was something she could understand. Didn’t mean she liked it, but she could respect it.
She had a feeling he didn’t like it so much himself. A small smile pulled at her lips at the thought. “You like this place.”
He nodded. “I like their coffee. And just about everything else they serve here.”
“Are you really still concerned that someone is still after me?”
“Not as concerned as I was before we found out the shooter was dead.”
“But?”
“But I don’t think it hurts to stay cautious until we know for sure.”
Once they’d ordered, picked up their food and settled into a booth—facing the door, she noticed—Sonya said, “Do you mind if I bless it?”
He shifted, but didn’t seem uneasy. He nodded and she bowed her head. “Thank You, Lord, for this food. For Your protection. Please let this thing be over. And thank You for putting Brandon in my life at just the right time.”
When she lifted her head she found his eyes on her, warm and smoky. “That was a nice prayer.”
Embarrassed, she shrugged. “That was a really nice thing you did for Spike and his mother.”
“Spike’s a good kid. He got into a lot of trouble two years ago, was hooked on meth and any other kind of drug he could get his hands on. I busted him during a drug sting.”
“And now he thinks you hung the moon.”
Brandon flushed and shrugged. “I gave him a chance.”
“He reminded you of you—or what you could have been, didn’t he?” she asked softly.
He jerked and took a sip of his coffee then a bite of his bagel. “Yes.”
She nodded. “Why didn’t you end up like Spike?”
He sighed. “I don’t know.” He tapped his fingers on the table, then seemed to make up his mind. “I mean, my parents weren’t into criminal stuff—other than underage drinking—but I don’t think they ever used drugs. At least none that I saw. They just weren’t there. And while I was angry about it, I was still looking for something to connect with. That was sports. Football, basketball, anything to keep moving and not think too much. As much freedom as I had growing up, I knew if I got into drugs, I’d ruin my future.”
“So you decided to make the right choices?”
“In a roundabout way. I wanted to play sports and couldn’t do that if I was strung out or high. Once I got out of high school, I had a full ride to college on a football scholarship. I didn’t want to mess that up. Throw in Erica’s preaching and seeing what drugs had done to Peter—” He shrugged.
“So that’s why you’re so involved in Parker House. You want to give kids another alternative.”
“Yes.”
“You’re a good, strong man, Brandon Hayes.”
He flushed. “Thanks.” Silence descended as they ate. Then Brandon’s phone buzzed and he grabbed it. “Hector, just who I wanted to hear from. What do you have?”
“I’ve got an address on your nanny.”
“Great. Text it to me, will you?”
“Already done. I also found out she’s working as a nanny for another couple in Charlotte, North Carolina. Tomorrow’s her day off.”
“How’d you find that out?”
“I have my ways.”
Brandon grunted. “Thanks.” He hung up and looked at Sonya. “Feel like a road trip tomorrow?”
“Sure. Technically, I’m still on medical leave.”
His gaze dropped to her throat. “How’s it feeling?”
“Still sore, of course, but healing.”
“Are you staying with Missy tonight?”
“Do you think I should?”
“Probably.”
She gave a nod. “Then I will. Missy said I have an open invitation. The one good thing about this whole mess is that I think I’m making a lifelong friend.”
“Nothing like looking on the positive side of things.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s better than the alternative.”
“Did you bring those pictures Don gave you?”
She pulled them from her purse and handed them to him. “Why don’t you slide around here so we can look at them together,” he said.
Her heart tumbled over itself in eager agreement to be that close to him. She got up and slid in the booth next to him. He radiated warmth. Security. She scooted closer until her arm brushed his. She looked up at him and found him staring at her. His eyes dropped to her lips. Then he swallowed and fanned the pictures on the table. He cleared his throat. “So. Ah. Look.”
Sonya leaned forward to see the first one. Don and Ann Bradley stood on the front porch of their house. Don held Heather, and Ann stood with her hand on the baby’s head. They looked happy. “That must have been when they brought me home from the hospital.” She sighed. “It’s like staring at strangers. I can’t bring myself to even think of them as my parents.”
They continued to flip through the pictures. Sonya stopped and pulled one out. “Look. Who’s that?” A woman held her, but it wasn’t Ann—her mother—no, Ann. Sonya firmed her jaw.
She had a mother, and while that mother was dead, she’d have a hard time calling another by the name. “She looks similar to Ann. I wonder if that’s the sister who died.”
“Is anything written on the back?”
She flipped it over. “‘Miriam and Heather.’”
“Miriam. I don’t know that Hector ever said her name.” He frowned and picked up the phone. “I’ll call Don and ask him.” He dialed the man’s number and Sonya went through the rest of the pictures. It appeared that Heather had a couple of cousins, each who took turns holding her. “A happy family,” she whispered.
Brandon hung up and she jumped. She’d missed the conversation. “What did he say?”
“He said it was Miriam, Ann’s sister who died.”
“The one who fell down the steps,” she murmured. “Did they say how that happened exactly?”
“No, Mrs. Bradley—Ann—went to check on her sister and found her at the bottom of the steps.”
“That’s awful. Poor Ann.”
He nodded then went rigid, his hard gaze on something beyond her right shoulder. “Brandon? What is it?”
“My parents.”
Sonya turned and saw two people in their mid-forties heading their way.
The woman had her bright red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. The man had on an auto-mechanic uniform. Grease stains dotted the gray material.
“Brandon. I’m so glad we ran into you,” the woman gushed.
Brandon gave a brief nod. “We were just leaving.” He nudged Sonya, who stood. Brandon followed. Pain flashed in Shelby’s eyes, but she did her best to cover it with a smile. “Won’t you introduce us?”
After a brief hesitation, he placed a hand on Sonya’s back. “Sonya, this is my mother, Shelby Hayes, and my father, Brant Hayes.”
Sonya smiled and held out a hand to each of them. “So glad to meet you.”
Shelby gave her fingers a light squeeze then turned to her son. “Brandon, we’d love to have you come Sunday for dinner. Erica and Peter will be there and we’ve invited Jordan and Katie, too. Won’t you come?”
“Probably not. I’m working a case.”
The hope in his mother’s eyes faded to a deep sadness. Sonya felt her heart wrench for the woman. “Of course,” Shelby said. “I understand.”
“Well, I don’t,” his father growled. “You gonna punish us forever? You’re so perfect you’ve never made a mistake?”
“Back off.” Brandon’s low warning sent shivers up Sonya’s spine. “This isn’t the place.”
Brant shook his head. “Come on, Shelby. Give it up. He’s never going to let go of his anger.”
Brandon’s mother sighed and tears filled her eyes. “Why was it so easy to forgive Peter all the lousy things he’s done over the years, but you can’t find it in your heart to accept a plea for forgiveness from your parents? Can’t you just give us a chance to prove we’ve changed?”
Sonya’s heart ached at the coldness in Brandon’s gaze. Yet beneath the chill, she thought she saw a glimmer of longing. He didn’t answer, just took Sonya’s hand and pulled her from the restaurant.
Once outside and in the car he said, “All right, we have a game plan. I’m going to head back to my office and get some work done.”
“Which office?”
“Finding the Lost. I’ve got a couple days off from the force.”
“Okay. Then just drop me at Missy’s. It’ll be good to hang out with her for a while.”
“Fine.”
She wondered if he would say anything about his parents. His tight jaw and narrowed eyes said he was still thinking about the incident. After thirty seconds of silence he shook his head and looked at her. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, Brandon.”
“No, it’s not.”
“I’m wondering about the question your mother asked you.”
“Which one?”
“About why it seemed to be so easy for you to forgive Peter, but you can’t give them another chance.”
He flexed his fingers on the wheel. “I don’t know.” His low, agony-filled answer made her heart ache anew for him.
“Your father is right. They’re humans with faults just like all the rest of us. Keep trying to get past what happened when they were too young to be parents and focus on the fact that they want to right their wrongs.”
He took a deep breath and she thought he might argue with her. He didn’t. He simply stared out the window. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I’ll pick you up in the morning?”
“That’ll be fine.” She let the subject go. If he wouldn’t open up to her and let her help, he would have to work through the emotional baggage he carried by himself. She gripped his fingers. “I’m here if you need me, Brandon. I’ll just be a nonjudgmental listening ear if you need it.”
He gave her hand an answering squeeze. “I’ll be looking forward to tomorrow.”
The thought of spending the whole day with him tomorrow sent shivers chasing one another all over her skin. She only hoped they didn’t have to spend the day looking over their shoulders and dodging people who wanted them dead.