When I thought she had skipped town to get away from my ex’s asshole brother, I could almost handle it and understand, but knowing she didn’t leave all those years ago raised so many questions that couldn’t be answered. Andrea was dead, not gone. She’d barely made it out of town before her life ended, and though they ruled her death as an accident, it never did feel right. I couldn’t let it go, and all my doubts and suspicions landed on my fiance’s brother.
I argued with Barrett so many times because I just couldn’t get past the fact that his brother ruined my best friend. Andrea pulled away from everyone in the two years she was in a relationship with David Hollender, completely isolating herself. He had some kind of hold on her I didn’t understand. That’s what made me so hesitant to start dating his brother after I graduated, but I did. Barrett and I dated while I was in college to get my degree in criminal justice. He was attending school as well, pursuing degrees in both accounting and business management, degrees that led him to be our town’s auditor. We had a life planned out, and I had a ring on my finger when it all came crashing down.
Barrett was a good guy. Apart from cheating on me, he had been the perfect boyfriend, but my distrust of his brother and the death of my friend brought out the worst in both of us. He got out the quickest way he could before we made the mistake of getting married. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when I saw the birth announcement of their newest bundle of joy. He was the last serious relationship I had, and I hated myself for wanting a small piece of the happiness he’d found. I was jealous that he moved on, and I felt stuck.
Maybe I just wasn’t meant to be happy?
“I thought the only person that could piss you off this bad was me, Deputy Sexy. Do I have a reason to be jealous?”
I let out a frustrated sigh, but inside my chest puffed with pleasure. He didn’t know how bad I needed to hear that right then. Cop uniforms can be sexy on guys, present co-workers excluded, but on a woman--they look anything but flattering. Not to mention, when a man sees a woman in a cop uniform all he’s thinking about is the fact that she’s a cop. A woman sees a man in uniform and they start thinking of handcuffs and sex games. It’s the nature of the beast.
“You shouldn’t be jealous at all, Buchanan. You and I are never going to happen.”
His lips twitched into a semi-smile, and he placed his hand over his heart like I'd just stabbed him with a dagger. “Don’t go breakin’ my heart and killin’ my dreams, and trust me...” His voice thickened and lowered. “Since I met you I’ve had a lot of dreams.”
I groaned, half at the cheesiness of his comment, but mostly because dammit, it was funny and hot. He was completely accurate when he said that he got under my skin. The more I was getting to know him, the more I wanted him and didn’t see him as a man capable of committing murder. He could kill a man given the right circumstances, but I didn’t see him doing a drive-by and killing a pregnant woman he claimed was his friend–and from all accounts, she was a friend to him. Another stab of jealousy hit my chest, only this time it wasn’t for my ex and the life he’d built with his wife, it was for the woman that was dead and the relationship she’d had with the man behind my bars.
Duncan was funny and sweet--a man that hid his grief with jokes and sarcasm. That was something I could relate to. Through all of this, where most men would be freaking out and preparing themselves for the worst, he wasn’t. He didn’t seem worried or fazed. I’d looked up his record and there was nothing on him. No juvie records. He wasn’t known for getting in trouble, and even graduated near the top of his class. If he killed that girl and tried to kill her baby, then why was he so sure he wouldn’t go down for this. Only a man confident in his innocence would be so calm about this--well, either that or he was a fucking sociopath. But even a sociopath wouldn’t grieve the loss of a loved one or a friend. He wouldn’t have been grieving all these years for the father he lost or the bike that was stolen from him that belonged to his father. If the emotion he was displaying was fake, then the man had missed his calling and should be in Hollywood.
“Keep your dreams to yourself and enjoy them because that is as close as you will ever get to me.”
His eyes heated, and I felt like I had just waved a red flag in front of a charging bull. Scorpio wasn’t the biggest guy in the club, but he packed a freaking punch with those icy blue eyes.
“I’ll tell you what, Beautiful. When I get out of here, and I will because I didn’t do this...” He gave me a pointed look and it was almost like he was reading my mind again. “When I get out, I’m going to let you take me out for an apology dinner, followed by some hot, heavy, angry, hate sex.”
Do not engage. Do not engage. I chided myself, turning away from him. He was too much, and it’d been too long since I’ve had any sex, much less anything hot or heavy. In fact, the last guy I was with lived over in Beauford, and the only thing that was hot and heavy about him, was his stupid body when he collapsed on top of me, pinning me to the bed. Halfway through his erratic humping, I started thinking about things I needed to pick up from the supermarket before I went home. Needless to say, that was a less than stellar experience. Instinctively, I knew Duncan would be anything but boring in bed.
“Keep dreaming.” I muttered talking to myself as much as him.
Instead of bantering and turning myself on even more than I already was, I pulled out the old file that I kept hidden in my drawer. I knew reading over Andrea’s case would be like a bucket of ice water being poured over me. I needed the distraction from the suspect, and Hollender wasn’t here. I was pretty much alone with the cocky ass biker until they decided to press charges or release him. Hollender was out trying to build a case against him, so I worked on the one that was allegedly solved. Andrea’s.
The photos showed nothing new. I’d been over them so many times that I had everything memorized. There was nothing left to really do an autopsy on, but from what they could tell from the bones, there were no injuries suggesting foul play. As far as we knew, her farewell letter was a suicide note or she had accidentally driven off the road and ended up crashing into the lake. No matter how many times I looked at these photos, I kept feeling like I was missing something that would prove she hadn’t done this on purpose and it was no accident.
There were times I questioned my sanity, and wondered if I owed Barrett an apology for thinking his brother had something to do with Andrea’s death. On the other hand, if the man that I hated more than anything, could put his hands on me and feel untouchable like he did the other day, what else was he capable of? It was like he knew I knew what and who he was, and it was a fun game for him to see how far he could push me. Like he was taunting me knowing I had nothing to go on, just a sick feeling in my gut and no proof.
The sound of the door opening and someone coming into our small station had me quickly closing the case file. Tess Monroe and her husband were both coming my way with intense looks on their faces. I could tell that something happened, but I also knew that there was no point in me asking. If they were here to speak to Duncan, there was no chance they would speak to me.
The large biker had an infant carrier and a little pink blanket covering a sleeping newborn baby. “Mrs.Monroe. Mr. Monroe.” I stood and nodded a greeting, “How can I help you?”
“I need to talk to my client, Deputy Rooker. Immediately and privately.”
I looked toward the cell, and Duncan was already on his feet, his eyes were hyper-focused as he looked toward the couple. When his eyes flickered toward me briefly, I saw a small, vulnerable crack in his armor and my heart cracked a bit too.
Chapter Seven
Scorpio
“What is this?” I asked when Tess dropped a large, heavy manila envelope on the table in front of me. My name was written across the front of the envelope in feminine handwriting.
“We found this in Brooklyn’s storage cube, only the storage wasn’t under Brooklyn’s name. That’s why we had no clue it even existed.”
“Whose name was it under?”
“McKenzie McAdams. Do you know her?” Tess asked as I pulled the envelope across the table.
“No, the name’s not familiar to me. Brooklyn’s real name was Meg. Maybe an alias?”
Tess shook her head, “There’s no telling. We don’t know much about her life before she came here from what little Ulrich has told me.”
