The Lawman's Secret Son

She almost smiled. Brady was acting like what Brady really was. A cop. How could he not see that? She said, “I won’t know what’s troubling him until I talk to him.”

“Yeah. Okay, I’ll go with you. This may be a break.”

“No, you won’t go with me,” she said firmly.

“Where are you meeting him?”

“Like I’m going to tell you?”

“You don’t know what he has in mind.”

“And neither do you,” she said. With a warning glance, she added, “Come back later tonight. If Jason says anything I can pass along to you, I will.”

“I don’t like you going alone.”

She stared at him until he had the grace to drop his gaze. “I’ll call my lawyer tomorrow. We’ll have this sham of a marriage annulled.”

One minute he was staring at her as she talked and the next he’d closed the three feet between them and grabbed her arms. The energy that surged directly into her bloodstream almost knocked her off her feet. Her heart banged against her ribs.

He dipped his head so low his deep dark brown eyes burned into hers. “Can a marriage consummated the way ours was be annulled?”

“Brady…”

“Don’t you remember our wedding night? Don’t you remember what we did—”

She shrugged herself away from him. Sex had never been the issue. “You’d better go now.”

Seconds ticked by in absolute silence before he finally moved. He paused at her elbow. “I’ll be back at nine o’clock.”

“Make it ten,” she said.

He nodded once before striding away. She stood in the garden for several moments, staring out at the old dock, waiting until she heard the roar of his motorcycle and knew it was safe to move.

Then she walked back inside the house, head high, eyes mostly unseeing. She’d shed her last tear for Brady months before. She was over him.

Chapter Two

Good Neighbors was a nonprofit organization utilizing volunteer workers to build low-income housing. Brady was one of the few paid employees. It was his job to assign and approve projects. He was also in charge of contracting jobs too big for the volunteers to handle alone.

The man who had donated the property had been truly generous as it wasn’t a tiny city lot but a small parcel backed by the river. Eventually there would be additional houses built on the property. Brady hoped to have a hand in all of them.

After visiting with Lara, Brady couldn’t keep his mind on anything. The sun baked his bare back as he sat on the plywood roof, banging in a slew of nails. They’d run out of ammo for the nail gun and he’d sent everyone else home for the day.

Had Lara really come back to Riverport just to talk to Jason Briggs? What was the boy up to? He’d been in and out of trouble most of his young life and Brady would bet money a few months in detention hadn’t changed that. Brady knew the type, his own brother, Garrett, was a carbon copy.

For a second, Brady thought about Garrett and wondered where he lived now and what he was up to. Last he’d heard, Garrett was out of the army. Brady hoped that gig had helped his little brother get his head screwed on straight, but he wouldn’t count on it. Garrett was more like their father than Brady was. The same reckless streak ran through both of them.

A bitter smile never touched his lips as that thought hit home. Could Garrett have done any worse with his life than Brady had? Had he killed a fifteen-year-old boy? Had he destroyed his one chance for a happy marriage with a woman who outclassed him in every way possible? Had he abandoned the only job he ever truly wanted and cemented his reputation as another worthless Skye, all because the thought of carrying a gun—and possibly making another mistake—made him queasy?

Unless Garrett had turned into a serial killer, he was probably doing as well if not better than his responsible big brother.

Brady missed a nail head twice and laid the hammer aside. Staring out at the river, he faced the fact he wasn’t going to get much more done here today. He picked up his tools and scrambled down the ladder. He’d just finished storing the equipment in the on-site storage shed when an SUV pulled up alongside his Harley.

Brady yanked on his T-shirt as the dust settled around the SUV. The window slid down to reveal Tom James, flush face toying with a smile.

Twice divorced, Tom was five or six years older than Brady, creeping up on forty. His former partner was also shorter than Brady, heavier, big chested with very short black hair ringing a bald spot.

“Have I got news for you,” Tom said.

Brady leaned against Tom’s vehicle. It was brand new and the fact he could afford it after the cleaning his last ex-wife and her lawyer accomplished, spoke to the fact that Tom was banking on his future promotion within the Riverport Police Department.

And no reason he shouldn’t. Brady was just damn thankful the Armstrong shooting hadn’t destroyed Tom’s reputation on the force as well as his own.

“Let me guess,” Brady said.

Tom laughed. “You won’t guess this. I got it hot from Carlson’s Hardware Store.”

“Lara is back in town, staying at her mother’s house while her mother is on a cruise.”

Tom’s round face fell. “Someone told you.”

“I saw Lara. I spoke with her.”

Tom nodded, all humor gone now. He knew what the last year had cost Brady. He said, “How was it?”

“About how you’d expect.”

Tom nodded. “What did she come back for?”

“She’s meeting Jason Briggs tonight.”

“Really,” Tom said, eyes narrowing. “I heard he got out of juvie. What’s she meeting him for?”

“He wanted to talk to her. Maybe you could keep your eyes open tonight just in case there’s trouble.”

“Where are they meeting? What time?”

“Don’t know, she won’t say.”

“You going to tail her?”

Brady shook his head. “She’d kill me if she found out I was butting into her business.”

“So?”

“So, she’s right.”

“But you want me to keep an eye out,” Tom said, a smile pulling at his lips.