CHAPTER 18
Brooke returned to the lab, but she felt too agitated to be there. She worked her way through two evidence envelopes, all the while replaying the exchange with the prosecutor. Of course, in hindsight it was easy to think of all the perfect retorts that had eluded her in the heat of the moment.
Roland plopped a drinking glass on the worktable beside her. “You missed a print.”
She glanced up at him. “I did not.”
He switched off the spotlight above her head. Then he took out a flashlight and aimed it through the glass at an oblique angle, illuminating a partial fingerprint that had somehow escaped her black powder.
“Oh.”
His eyebrows shot up. “That’s it? ‘Oh’?”
“What do you want me to say? I made a mistake.”
“Yeah, no kidding. What the fuck’s with you today?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” He went back to his table.
Brooke stared at the glass. Roland was right. Her concentration was crap this afternoon and so was her work product. And she had no right to be sitting here handling evidence.
She stopped what she was doing and put it away for tomorrow. Then she packaged up the drinking glass to reexamine later. She grabbed her purse and left the lab without a word. It was almost five, which was ahead of her typical departure time, but she was better off leaving early than staying here and screwing things up.
On the way to her car she scrolled through her phone until she found Kaitlyn Spence’s number. By the third ring, Brooke’s heart was racing. When Kaitlyn finally picked up, Brooke felt a wave of relief.
“Hi, it’s Brooke Porter.”
“Hi.” Kaitlyn sounded surprised but not hostile. For some crazy reason, she didn’t seem to blame Brooke for what had happened last night.
“I just wanted to check on you and Cameron.” From the background noise, it sounded like Kaitlyn was in her car. “How’s everything going today?”
“You really want to know? Terrible.”
Brooke slid behind the wheel, but didn’t start the engine. She heard shuffling noises and then Cameron’s voice in the background asking for McDonald’s.
“I told you, Cam, no more fast food. . . . Brooke? Sorry, you’re on speakerphone. We’re in the car.” Kaitlyn sighed. “It’s been a bad day.”
“What happened?”
“They want us to spend the night at the shelter again. And I’m missing another dinner shift, but my boss won’t reschedule me. But who cares, right? It’s only money.” Brooke heard the stress in Kaitlyn’s voice. “And to top it off, I just left the police station, where they totally grilled me like they think I’m some drug dealer or something. Or maybe they think Sam was. Those guys need to get a clue. Sam didn’t touch drugs or even alcohol. She ate freaking veggie shakes for breakfast.”
“I’m sorry you’re dealing with all this. Is there anything you two need? I can swing by the shelter.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Kaitlyn sounded taken off guard by the offer. “I think we’re good.”
“How’s your arm?”
“Fine,” she said, but Brooke caught something in her voice and wondered what the answer would have been if Cameron weren’t listening. It had to be painful for her to do her job with fresh stitches in her arm.
“Well . . . let me know if I can do anything. Do you guys need me to check on Fenway?”
“Yes!” Cameron yelled. “Can you bring him over?”
“No, she cannot bring him over, Cam. I told you, they don’t allow dogs.”
“Please, Mom?”
“No. . . . Sorry, Brooke? Don’t worry about Fenway. Our neighbor is taking care of him.”
“Okay, well . . . if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Thanks. That’s nice of you to offer.”
“You guys take care.”
Brooke ended the call and analyzed the conversation as she drove home. She hated that they’d had such a miserable day. But Kaitlyn had mentioned nothing about a forensic artist, so maybe that wasn’t happening, which eased Brooke’s worry, as did their plans to spend another night at the shelter. The place had an armed guard and plenty of security. They couldn’t stay there forever, but at least Brooke knew they’d be safe tonight.
The tightness in Brooke’s shoulders started to loosen. She didn’t feel relaxed—not by a long shot—but she felt better as she swung by the grocery store and picked up some ingredients for dinner. By the time she made it home, she was looking forward to a restful evening.
Until she stepped through her door and confronted the mountain range of laundry in her living room. It had been weeks since she’d done any chores. Her entire house was in disarray, just like her personal life, and she couldn’t stand it another minute.
Brooke deposited her groceries on the counter and changed into yoga pants. She hauled four overflowing laundry baskets into the utility room and dumped them onto the floor, then sorted everything by category—towels, clothes, and delicates. She heaved a load into the machine and got it going.
Next, she poured herself a generous glass of wine and started chopping. Brooke didn’t cook often, but when she did, it relaxed her. Tonight was all about comfort food, and she was making one of her grandmother’s soup recipes. She cut up vegetables, letting her mind wander as she sliced and diced. She sipped her merlot and tried to unwind, but her thoughts kept going back to Sean.
Don’t compare me to him.
She’d hated the look on his face when he’d said that. And she’d hated the words, too, because he was right.
She tried to block out everything and focus on the task at hand as she sautéed onions and celery. She rinsed a batch of Roma tomatoes and started carving out the stems. The recipe made way too much for one person—maybe she’d take some over to Owen and Lin.
The doorbell rang, and Brooke’s hands froze.
Sean.
She grabbed a dish towel and wiped her fingers. Then she smoothed her hair before hurrying to the door. Her pulse pounded as she checked the peephole.
Not Sean, but Maddie.
“Hey, stranger,” Maddie said as Brooke let her inside. “I had to come check on you. You missed our coffee klatch.”
Brooke gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God, it’s Monday.”
“Yes, it is.”
Brooke had a weekly coffee date with her friends at Delphi.
“I totally forgot.” Brooke sighed and closed the door. “You want a glass of wine? Or a beer?” She led Maddie into the kitchen. “I’ve got Corona, but no lime.”
“Corona sounds good. And something smells incredible. What are you making?”
“Tomato bisque and grilled cheese. Can you stay for dinner?”
“Yum. Wish I could, but Brian’s bringing home steaks.”
Maddie took a stool at the counter while Brooke retrieved a beer from the fridge and popped off the top.
Out of all of Brooke’s girlfriends, Maddie was the easiest to talk to, especially lately. She was a newlywed, but she wasn’t all starry-eyed and gleefully playing house with her husband. This was a second go-round for her. Years ago, Maddie had lost a child and gone through a messy divorce. She tended to have a realistic, grounded outlook on life.
“Sorry about our coffee klatch.” Brooke set the Corona in front of Maddie. “I completely blanked. It’s been a crazy day. Two days, actually.”
She brought Maddie up to speed on everything, including the shooting, but omitting the part about seeing Sean afterward.
“Wow. Forget coffee. I’m surprised you didn’t call in sick today. You okay?”
“Pretty much. Mind if I chop while we talk?”
“Go ahead.”
“So, how are you doing?”
“Um, nice try, but we’re not done with you yet.” Maddie smiled. “How’s Sean?”
Brooke continued chopping, stalling for time. “How do you know about Sean?”
“I knew it! Alex owes me five dollars.”
Brooke stopped chopping. “You guys made a bet?”
“She said you were still off men, but I told her I thought you and Sean had a thing.”
“Where’d you get that?”
“Oh, please. I’ve seen the way you look at each other.”
“What way?” Brooke took a sip of wine to hide her reaction.
“Oh, I don’t know. Like you want to eat each other alive?”
Damn it, who else had noticed? Brooke set her glass down and took a deep breath. “I spent last night at his house.”
Maddie slapped the counter. “You did not!”
“I did.”
Brooke’s stomach flitted with nerves. It felt strange to tell someone. Talking about it somehow made it more real, and it would be harder to chalk it up as a one-night stand.
“And?”
“And what?” Brooke rinsed some basil leaves.
“And how was it?” Maddie grinned. “I’ve always wondered about that man.”
“Hey. Stick to your FBI agent.”
“Ha! Jealousy, too. This sounds serious.”
“It isn’t.” The instant the words were out, Brooke felt guilty.
“So . . . was it okay? Better than okay?”
Brooke felt her cheeks warm as she tore basil and sprinkled it into the soup. “I don’t really have words to describe it.”
“Try.”
Brooke sighed. “He’s very . . . thorough.” She smiled and picked up her wine.
“Oh, my God.” Maddie fanned her face. “That is so hot. And I’m so damn happy for you.”
Brooke set down the glass, and the nerves were back in her stomach.
“What’s wrong? You look all worried.”
“Well, I am.”
“I won’t tell anyone. My lips are sealed.”
“No, not that. Although, please don’t tell anyone. I just . . .” Brooke leaned back against the counter and combed her hands through her hair. “I feel like this is happening way too soon.”
“Too soon after Matt, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s been four months.” Maddie sipped her beer.
“Yes, but I’m still just getting out of it with him. He was here the other night.”
“Here as in here?” Maddie set her bottle down.
“He’s still lurking.”
“Damn it. I should have Brian talk to him.”
“No. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, Brooke.”
“I can handle everything with him. It’s Sean I’m confused about. My head’s all over the place and I feel like I’m making a mess of everything.”
Brooke stirred the soup with a wooden spoon.
“It sounds like me when Brian and I first got together.” Maddie shook her head. “I was a wreck. After Emma died, I was basically in emotional lockdown. I stopped caring about my job, my marriage. When Brian met me, I was completely missing in action emotionally.”
“I can’t imagine what you went through. I’m sure my problems seem silly by comparison.”
“They’re not silly at all. In fact, it sounds familiar. I liked Brian a lot, but that alone confused the hell out of me, and I kept pushing him away.”
“So, what happened?”
“He saw straight through my bullshit and called me out on it.”
Brooke thought again about her argument with Sean. Don’t compare me to him. “I keep thinking I need to follow my plan, which was to take some time off for myself to get my footing back. Whenever Sean’s around, though, all that goes right out the window and all I want to do is be with him.”
“So, be with him.”
“But the logical side of me knows I’d be making another mistake by rushing into something like I did when Matt and I started. I’d be falling into the same pattern I had with Matt.”
“Well . . . is Sean like Matt?”
“No. They’re completely different, and I think that’s what scares me.”
Maddie watched her, looking pensive. “For years I convinced myself every guy I met was going to be just like the guy I divorced. Kind of put a damper on things. I had to stop listening to my brain so much. When Brian came along, nothing was logical, so I had to suck it up and go with my heart.”
Brooke stirred the soup, and her throat tightened as she thought of Sean. Why was she so conflicted? Maybe that in itself was a sign she shouldn’t be getting involved with anyone new right now.
“I hate how indecisive I am. I never used to be this way. I used to set my sights on something I wanted and just go for it. It pisses me off that he took that away from me. That I let him take that away from me.”
Maddie gave her a worried smile. “You’ll get it back. You’re going through a transition right now.”
“I hate that. I feel like I’m in limbo.”
Maddie’s phone dinged and she dug it from her purse. “Well, dinner calls. I need to get home.” She walked over to Brooke and gave her a hug.
“Thanks for coming by.” Brooke led her to the door. “And sorry about our coffee klatch. Any good gossip?”
“Oh, yes. We got to hear all about Kelsey’s sexcapades. She and Gage are trying to have a baby.”
“Sorry I missed that.”
Maddie smiled. “You get a pass this time. But don’t miss the next one or we’ll be forced to talk about you.”
• • •
Brooke was home. The front windows were dark, but Sean saw the warm yellow glow from the kitchen spilling out onto the driveway. He parked at the curb and checked his watch as he walked up her sidewalk and rang the bell.
“Hey,” she said when she pulled the door back.
“Hi.”
Sean could tell he’d surprised her, but he couldn’t tell if that was good or bad. Her hair was down and she’d changed into yoga clothes—some tight black top that clung to her breasts.
She caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to come in?”
He stepped into the darkened living room, and for a moment they just stood there, looking at each other.
“Something smells good.”
She yelped and rushed into the kitchen. He trailed behind and found her at the stove, flipping over a perfectly golden-brown grilled-cheese sandwich.
Sean’s mouth began to water as he looked around. Something simmered in a pot on the stove, and a glass of red wine sat beside a cutting board.
Sean spotted the half-empty beer on the counter.
Brooke noticed his look. “Maddie was here.”
“Oh, yeah? How’s Maddie?”
“Good.”
She avoided eye contact in a way that told him they’d talked about him, and Sean wished to hell he knew what Brooke had said.
She slid the finished sandwich onto the cutting board. “The soup’s almost ready. Have you had dinner?”
“No, but I can’t stay. I’m working.”
She looked at him. “Still?”
“We’re running surveillance on a suspect. I got stuck with the late shift.”
“Who’s the suspect?”
“No one you know.”
“Try me.”
“Guy named Eric Mahoney.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “The judge?”
“You know him?”
“I was in his courtroom once to give expert testimony. Oh, my God, you have his DNA under Samantha Bonner’s fingernails?”
Sean frowned. “How do you know about that?”
“Ric mentioned something in the meeting today.”
“First of all, no, we don’t have it. Not for sure, anyway. And you can’t repeat that name to anyone, you got me?”
“The DA must be flipping out.”
“Brooke, do you understand?” He stepped closer. “That information is confidential.”
“I understand.” She gazed up at him, and he could see her wheels turning.
“Don’t even go there.”
“Go where?”
“Wherever you’re going in that brain of yours. This phase of the investigation doesn’t involve you.”
“I know.”
Sean stared down at her as he battled his urges. Brooke smelled amazing, her kitchen smelled amazing, and he wanted nothing more than to stay here all night filling up on her.
“Stay for a bite.”
“I can’t.” He checked his watch. “I’m late already.”
“Then why did you come here?”
He gazed down at her. “I needed to see if you were still pissed.”
“I’m not.”
“And I needed to check something.” He pulled her against him and dipped his head down to kiss her, all the while gauging her reaction.
It wasn’t just one reaction, but a whole string of them, starting with surprise, then hesitation, and finally a slow, delicious opening as she relaxed into the kiss. She tasted so damn good, like wine and spices and that woman flavor he remembered from last night, and he wanted to lift her onto the counter and do her right there. He gripped her hips and pulled her against him, and she moaned into his mouth.
Why did he have to go? He wanted to stay. He wanted to keep her up all night again. And he wanted to watch her eyes go hazy as she clutched him inside her body and screamed his name.
Finally, he eased back, and her heated look erased the moment on the porch this morning when she’d flinched. For the first time in hours Sean felt like he could breathe.
She smiled slowly. “That’s what you had to check?”
“Yeah.”
He wrapped his arms around her, and she rested her head on his chest.
“Sean, about what I said earlier—that ‘my way or the highway’ thing. That wasn’t fair. And you’re right about why I said it.”
He pulled back to look at her.
“I think . . .” She cleared her throat. “I’m a little freaked out about last night.”
“Me too.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Heat flared in her eyes, and he had to kiss her again. He couldn’t resist, not when she was right there in front of him and he’d been replaying their night together all day long. She slid her arms around his neck, tempting him to stay, and it was physically painful for him to step back and let her go.
“I need to get back.”
She nodded and led him through the dark living room to her front door.
“Oh, wait!” She rushed back into the kitchen before he could object.
Sean checked his watch. He was so freaking late, Ric was going to kill him. And he still hadn’t told Brooke his news.
She reappeared with a can of Coke and a plastic baggie containing a grilled-cheese sandwich sliced diagonally in half. Sean’s heart squeezed.
“For your stakeout.”
“Thanks.” No one had ever given him homemade food for a stakeout before. And now he felt guilty for the rest of what he had to tell her.
“Listen, I talked to Kaitlyn Spence tonight. She agreed to bring Cameron in for a session with a forensic artist.”
Brooke stiffened. “When?”
“Tomorrow. After he finishes school and Kaitlyn gets off work at the coffee shop.”
The look in her eyes chilled.
“Reynolds pushed hard for this. I stalled him as long as I could, which is why this is happening late tomorrow. If we get lucky, we’ll catch a break before then and we won’t need him.”
Brooke pulled the door open. No touch, no kiss. Sean stepped out into the cold, wondering if he’d just undone all the progress he’d made with her.
“Be careful tonight,” she said crisply. “I hope you catch that break.”