THE BRIDGE (12 page)

She gripped the door handle. What did it matter? This was Sean’s business.

She folded her hands in her lap. But it wasn’t just Sean’s business anymore. There was a killer out there who knew all about Sean’s history, a killer who had her in his crosshairs.

After that fiasco with Ty, she’d vowed never to be kept in the dark again, and this situation with Sean was a lot darker than a cheating fiancé.

She grabbed the door handle again and pushed out of the car before she could talk herself out of it. Pausing on the steps to the town house, she pulled out her phone and left another message for Sean letting him know her plans.

She might not want to be kept in the dark, but she didn’t want to keep him in the dark, either.

With just fourteen units in the building, Elise located Dr. Patrick’s place quickly. A sliding window beside the front door was open halfway across, and the sounds of a game show floated through the mesh screen obscuring the view inside the house.

She scooped in a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

A bump and a scrape resounded from inside, and Elise straightened her shoulders and plastered a smile on her face as if this were the most natural house call in the world. But the door didn’t swing open.

She knocked, leaning in toward the window. “Dr. Patrick? My name is Elise Duran. I’m a friend of Detective Sean Brody’s. He...we wanted to ask you a few questions about his father, Detective Joseph Brody.”

The scraping noise grew louder, and a raspy moan accompanied it.

“Dr. Patrick?” Elise pressed her face against the screen.

A man, leaning heavily against a kitchen chair, shuffled toward the door, one hand holding his left arm.

Elise’s stomach flip-flopped. “Dr. Patrick? Are you all right?”

She jiggled the door handle. Another loud scrape and a bump, and then the handle turned. The door opened inward, and the man hunched over in the doorway, his face contorted, a line of drool running from his mouth.

The chair bumped Elise’s knees and she realized he was using it as a walker.

“Are you okay?” She placed a knee on the chair. “I’m calling 9-1-1.”

Dr. Patrick let out a gasp and toppled to the side.

Elise shoved the useless chair out of the way and crouched beside him, reaching for her phone with a shaky hand. “It’s going to be all right. I’m calling 9-1-1 right now.”

He clutched her wrist in a cinching vise and pulled her toward him as the phone dropped from her hand. His mouth was working and his dark eyes burned into hers. He strained to keep his chin to his chest, holding his head off the floor.

She ducked, her ear hovering close to his mouth while she felt for her phone on the hardwood floor.

His words rasped from his throat. “Tell him, tell Brody.”

Elise’s jaw dropped and she froze. “Tell him what?”

“Tell him, tell him...his father...”

Dr. Patrick’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped to the floor.

Chapter Thirteen

As the fog rolled in damp and heavy, Sean narrowed his eyes and watched the EMTs load the gurney burdened with Dr. Patrick’s body into the ambulance.

Elise’s shoulder pressed against his, and he felt a tremble roll through her slender frame. He took a step to the side. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Her head swiveled around so fast, her hair whipped across her face. A few strands stuck to her damp cheeks. “I didn’t cause his heart attack.”

“I didn’t accuse of you of causing his...heart attack, but what were you doing coming out to his place on your own?” That fact upset him more than the idea that she obviously didn’t trust him.

“I was driving back to Courtney’s from school. It’s not like I have a police escort. I could’ve stopped off for groceries, dropped in on a friend.”

“But you chose to come here.”

“Look—” she splayed her hands in front of her “—I had Dr. Patrick’s address, you were busy and I happened to be in the neighborhood.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets as the ambulance trundled away from the curb. No need for a siren—Dr. Patrick was already dead from the heart attack.

“Why didn’t you wait for me? Or why did you have to wait at all? You left me his address. I could’ve handled the questioning on my own.” He started to shake a finger in her face and made a fist instead.

“Maybe it was fate that propelled me to go in on my own. By the time you got here, he would’ve been dead.”

“I guess fate’s not looking out for you too well, since by the time you got here he was dying.”

She held up her own finger. “Dying, not dead.”

“What does that mean?” He hadn’t had two minutes to talk to her alone. By the time he got her message and had driven to Dr. Patrick’s address, the cops had already been here and he’d arrived to see the tail end of their patrol car. The EMTs were already wheeling Dr. Patrick out of his town house, and Elise was talking to the neighbors, who were now wandering back to their own lives.

He had no idea what she’d told the cops about her reasons for being here. Had she dragged his name into it?

“It means—” she brushed the hair from her face “—he wasn’t dead when I got here. He’d already suffered the heart attack but he was still alive.”

“How long did he last?”

“Long enough to talk to me.”

He scuffed the toe of his shoe against the sidewalk. “What would he have to say to a complete stranger?”

“I wouldn’t say I was a complete stranger.” She flicked a piece of lint from the arm of her sweater. “I told him who I was through the window.”

“You mentioned my name?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?” Sean sucked in a breath and held it.

She hugged her sweater around her body. “He told me to tell you something about your father.”

His lips barely moved in his stiff face. “What?”

“He died before he could tell me.”

Sean let out a noisy breath that deflated his chest along with his hopes. “He knew, Elise. He knew something about my father.”

She placed her cool fingers on his arm. “If he knew enough to clear your father, why didn’t he step forward at the time? I’m pretty sure your father would’ve allowed him to break confidentiality to vouch for his innocence.”

“Are you implying Dr. Patrick knew my father was guilty?”

“No.” Her fingernails dug into his tattoo. “I’m just trying to reason through this with you.”

He shook his head. “There is no rhyme or reason. Why did Dr. Patrick have a heart attack today of all days, just when I found out about his existence?”

“Coincidence. Fate, again. It was a heart attack, not murder, not suicide.”

“The EMTs verified that to you?”

“Short of doing an autopsy on the sidewalk? Pretty much.”

“Damn! Minutes too late. Minutes away from getting to the bottom of this puzzle that has plagued me for twenty years.”

Her hold on his arm turned to a caress. “The puzzle, as you call it, doesn’t define you, Sean. Whatever your father was or did, you’re here now, in this moment.”

The tension seeped from his shoulders and he rolled them forward and backward. Then he clasped her hands between his.

She wriggled one free from his tight grip and brushed her knuckles across his tattoo. “And you know it. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You’re a Phoenix. You’ve risen from the ashes of your past to create your own present.”

As always, he shivered when she touched his tattoo, as if she were touching his soul. “Let’s get out of here and get something to eat.”

“That sounds great about now, but I don’t want you to get into any trouble because of me. Does your department have any idea you’re spending so much time with me?”

Sean clutched the back of his neck to knead his tense muscles. In all the worry about Elise and the drama over Dr. Patrick’s death, he’d almost forgotten the meeting this afternoon. “That’s not going to be a problem.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s not going to be a problem because I’m no longer on the case. It’s happening again, Elise.”

* * *

E
LISE
STEPPED
BACK
and placed a hand on her car. “Your department took you off the case? Why?”

“The captain thinks I’m too personally involved.” He held up one finger. “And before you get started, it has nothing to do with you.”

“It was that reporter’s story, wasn’t it? Dragging up the past.”

He shrugged. “Like I said before, he has a right to report whatever he wants as long as it’s the truth—and he told the truth. The department overreacted.”

“Sean, what did you mean when you said it was happening again? They don’t suspect you of anything, do they?”

“I just meant—” he dug his keys out of his pocket “—they’re punishing me because some killer decided to communicate with me. That’s how it started with my dad, too.”

“Well, it’s not going to end the same way.”

He reached forward and tugged a lock of her damp hair. “Why are we standing out here in this fog? Follow me back to my place and I’ll make some dinner. It’s just outside the city, if you don’t mind.”

“Perfect. I want to get out of the city right now, but I don’t want to put you to any trouble. Let me pick up the food this time.”

She’d clicked her remote and he opened the car door for her. “I actually have a couple of steaks in the freezer I’ve been meaning to cook for a while.”

“Then I’ll take you up on your offer.”

“Stay right behind me and I’ll keep my eye on you, but just in case.” He printed out his address on a piece of paper and slipped it into her hand. He shut her door and smacked the roof of the car.

Keeping her gaze pinned to the taillights of his car had the same effect on her as watching him in her rearview mirror—a feeling of safety. After Dr. Patrick died in her arms and the ambulance arrived and the police came, she hadn’t felt safe until she’d seen Sean striding across the street, his gait fueled by fury. His fury fueled by fear.

He cared about her. Whether his concern extended beyond feelings of protectiveness, she didn’t know. Did it matter right now? She needed his strength and he needed hers, too.

He’d been fighting his demons for far too long by himself. He obviously didn’t want to burden his brothers. He had no one right now to confide in, and she knew how that felt.

When the expectations of her small-town life began to close around her, she didn’t know where to turn. So she’d gone through the motions, treading the path that had been laid out for her.

When her maid of honor had dangled the gift of Ty’s infidelity in front of her, she’d snatched it. She knew once she became that runaway bride, there was no going back.

Maybe Sean needed something to hold on to, something to pull him out of his misery. He must’ve turned a corner when he got that tattoo. Now she’d been put here to help him turn another corner.

She followed him closely on the bumper-to-bumper freeway until he put his turn signal on and crawled onto an off-ramp. As she rolled to a stop behind him at the red light, she tapped the display of her phone to call Courtney.

“Hi, Elise. Are you calling because you’re going to be late? Because I’m not even home yet.”

“I’m going out to dinner, or rather having dinner at a friend’s place.”

“Turns out I’m going out, too. I’m finally getting together with the guy I met at the Speakeasy.”

A shiver ran through Elise. Courtney should be more careful. “What do you know about this guy, Courtney?”

“Uh, he’s an investment banker and he’s hot.”

Elise grimaced. Her experiences over the past few days had made her more street savvy than she’d wanted to be.

“Are you at home yet?”

“No. New client’s keeping me busy. Have fun and be careful.”

Elise pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to tell Courtney about her latest mishap. “You, too.”

Ahead of her, Sean’s right-turn signal blinked and he swung into the driveway of a small house in a quiet residential neighborhood. He must relish this escape from the big city.

He parked in the driveway and she pulled up to the curb.

Tossing his keys in the air, he said, “Miserable traffic.”

“This is a nice neighborhood.”

“Yeah, my little refuge.”

“You need it.”

He unlocked his front door and shoved it open for her. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my job.”

“I know you do. You wouldn’t be babysitting me if you didn’t.”

He tilted his head as he stepped aside, a quizzical look in his dark eyes. “Right.”

She stepped into the room and inhaled the scent of cleanliness—furniture polish, bleach, disinfectant.

“It’s a good thing my cleaning lady came today.” He flipped on a lamp by the door, and it illuminated a masculine room, dark and cozy.

She placed her hands on the back of his couch, smoothing them across the dark brown leather. “Somehow I get the feeling your cleaning lady doesn’t have a lot of work to do.”

“How much mess can a single guy create?” He spread his arms to encompass the immaculate room.

“You don’t know my brothers.” She pointed at the kitchen, whose gleaming surfaces were visible even in the darkness. “Do you want me to help with anything?”

“Sure. I’m going to thaw out the steaks and put a couple of potatoes in microwave. I have some fresh asparagus from the local farmers’ market. You can wash and trim that.”

She saluted. “Got it.”

As he covered the steaks on a plate and shoved them into the microwave, Elise ran some cold water over the asparagus spears. “What did they tell you when they dismissed you from the case?”

His fingers paused over the microwave buttons, and then he stabbed them and punched the power. “Said they didn’t like killers communicating with detectives, that the killers fed off the high and it could encourage them to commit more murders.”

“You obviously don’t believe that.”

“When a killer communicates with the detective on the case, it tends to yield more clues. There are more chances that he’ll slip up, reveal some detail.” He grabbed a couple of potatoes from the pantry and slammed the door. “They know that.”

“So, it’s just you.”

“Yeah, it’s me. If the killer had chosen anyone else in the department, they’d be all over it.”

“Do you think he will?” She took a potato from his hands and held it under the running water. “Replace you with another detective?”

He snorted. “Not a chance. He’s fixated on me for some reason—probably because he knows all about my father. He’s not exactly a copycat of that killer, but he’s close enough. Thinks he’s being clever by pulling another Brody into his sick world.”

She bit her lip. “No news on anything happening at the bridge today at those coordinates he sent me?”

“No. Those coordinates were for my edification. Who knows what he has planned next, if anything.”

He snatched the potato from her, which she’d been scrubbing down to the flesh. “I like a little potato skin on my baked potatoes.”

She laughed. “Crime and cooking don’t mix.”

“Crime and a lot of things don’t mix. Let’s drop it.”

They finished preparing the meal by exchanging small talk, and it almost felt like a normal date. But she’d never dated anyone like Sean Brody before. His intensity always simmered beneath the surface. He ran so hot, he could grill those steaks without the heat.

She stole a glance at his backside, snug in a pair of faded jeans he’d pulled on after shedding his suit. What would it feel like to have all that intensity unleashed in the bedroom?

“Rare or well-done?”

“Huh?” She blinked as he shot her a curious glance over his shoulder.

“Your steak—rare, medium or well-done?”

“I grew up on a cattle ranch. I like mine medium rare and juicy.”

His eyes flicked to her chest and back to her face so quickly she might have imagined it. “Juicy, it is.”

She dug into his silverware drawer and grabbed a handful of utensils. Had he read her thoughts? Probably just looked at her face, which would forever preclude her from being a professional poker player.

The microwave beeped and he turned from the sizzling steaks. “That’s your asparagus. I have some butter over here, unless you prefer something fancier.”

“I prefer...butter.” She turned and grabbed the bowl of asparagus from the microwave and felt like replacing it with her head. If that’s the best she could do at seduction, the only beef she’d get tonight would be that medium-rare steak. She giggled. She’d been hanging around Courtney too long.

“Something funny about the asparagus?”

“Well, there is something inherently funny about the vegetable, isn’t there.” She plucked a hot spear from the bowl with her fingertips and held it up. “It even looks like a...”

She bit off the end of the asparagus and practically choked on it.

Sean cleared his throat. “Phallic symbol?”

Popping the rest of the spear in her mouth, she nodded. She should’ve been paying more attention to Courtney over the past year of their friendship. She was pretty sure her friend wouldn’t be using asparagus as a tool of seduction.

Sean stabbed the steaks with a long fork and dropped them onto two plates. “I think I got that medium rare. Let me know your expert opinion.”