Are you always this stubborn?
Youre the one being stubborn, she declared with a huff.
She reminded him of a rookie cop with a chip on her shoulder. Humor me, okay? Let me do my job and take you back to your house.
She regarded him steadily for a moment. All right, fine. Do your job. She opened the door and walked out.
Brody picked up a fax data form and wrote out a request for information on the investigation of Paul Wheelers murder. He dialed in the number for the L.A.P.D. and sent the fax. He turned to go and his gaze landed on Kates purse sitting on the floor next to his desk.
Her wallet still rested on the desktop. He picked it up. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe instinct, but instead of returning the wallet to the purse, he flipped it open. Plastic sheaths of photos, including her ID, separated the two halves. One side was lined with credit cards, gold and platinum. The other side held her checkbook.
He thumbed through the photos, a knot forming in his chest as his mind registered what he saw. There was a picture of Kate in a white wedding dress standing beside a tall, blond man. There was a photo of an older woman who he guessed to be her mother. Another picture of an older man in military uniform. Another less formal picture of the blond man. Brody slipped the picture out of the plastic. On the back, someone, Kate he presumed, had written the name Paul and the date of when the photo had been taken.
Brody tucked the picture into his shirt pocket. One question had been answered, but now he had others. He wondered how much Kate knew. And if she didnt know? Dread crept up his spine. He didnt want to be the one to tell her. But it looked like he had no choice.
Stepping out into the morning sunshine, Brody found Kate waiting on the sidewalk, her arms akimbo and one Italian-loafer-clad foot tapping. His mouth twisted. She was doing a bang-up job of looking like a woman used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted it, but the effort she was putting into the display made him think it wasnt her usual M.O.
The brief summer storm left the air with a crisp freshness. But the telltale signs of raindrops still beading on his car reminded Brody of the night before and of what Kate would find when she went back to the house. He stopped in his tracks.
Kate?
She looked over her shoulder at him, her steps slowing to a halt and her brows drawn together. Now what?
Did you get everything?
Her brows rose. I didnt bring anything.
This, maybe? He held up her purse.
She snatched it from him. Thanks, she mumbled.
She wouldnt be thanking him when he told her what hed discovered. With a pleasureless twist of his lips, he followed her to his cruiser and held open the passenger-side door. She gave him a tight smile and slid in.
As he headed the car down Main Street, he tried to formulate the best way of saying what needed to be said. But every time he tried to tell her, he couldnt get the words to form.
Okay, out with it.
Excuse me?
Kate sighed. You obviously have something on your mind. Youve looked like a fish out of water ever since we got in the car.
He slanted her a glance. And how is that, exactly?
You keep opening your mouth to say something, then shutting it tight. Kate demonstrated with exaggerated movements.
Brodys rich laughter filled the cab of the car. Kate sucked in a breath. She liked the sound of his laugh: deep and warmand inviting. She forced the thought away. She couldnt let down her guard no matter how pleasing she found the sheriff.
So, what is it?
Brody sobered, his expression turning grim. A sense of impending doom filled Kate. What could he possibly have to say that would warrant such a reaction? Nothing, she decided, now that theyd determined she wasnt going to be arrested.
How long were you married to yourlate husband?
She frowned. Four years.
How do you know Pete Kinsey was his business partner?
That seemed like an odd question. Paul told me after I found an invoice for a piece of office equipment. It had Kinseys name on it.
He slanted her a quick glance. You never met Pete Kinsey?
She hated the pinprick of hurt needling her. No. I didnt even know about him until a year ago. Paul hadnt invited anyone he worked with to our wedding.
He didnt comment, as his hands gripped and re-gripped the steering wheel.
Why?
He shrugged, then asked, How well did you know Paul?
An even odder question.
As well as one could, I suppose. Paul wasnt your open and friendly type. Thinking back over the course of their relationship, she wondered how shed missed his coldness in the beginning. Or had he been just that good at hiding it?
He changed from when you first met him?
Unnerved that hed practically read her thoughts, she replied, Yes, he did.
He traveled a lot.
It wasnt a question. Yes. How did you know?
Without answering, Brody slowed the vehicle and turned down the narrow dirt drive leading to the house.
In the bright morning sun, the cottage-style home and surrounding area held a charming appeal. A far cry from her impression last night. The blue-gray shingles, quaint dormer windows edged in white, and the wraparound porch were very welcoming. The shrubs and foliage of the yard held a certain rustic charm. And beyond the bungalow, the beach and frothy waves of the Atlantic Ocean gleamed in the sunlight. It was very picturesque and soothing.
Kate wished shed been able to arrive in the light of day rather than the dead of a stormy night. The late flight out of L.A. and the subsequent drive to Havensport had made her arrival untimely.
She regretted she hadnt rented a car instead of arranging for ground transportation. But at the time it seemed the best thing since she hadnt a clue where she was going. Last night, the driver had dropped her off without so much as waiting to see if shed made it in the house okay, leaving her stranded without any way to get around.
Brody parked and got out. Just as Kate opened the door, he was there offering her his help. She laid her hand in his. Warmth spread up her arm and around her heart. She hadnt felt anything but coldness in so long.
Quickly, she disengaged from him and stepped away. You didnt answer my question.
And what question was that?
She put her hands on her hips. How did you know Paul traveled?
Brody ran a hand through his dark hair. She watched the motion with a good dose of curiosity. How would his hair feel beneath her hand? Uncomfortable with the course of her thoughts, she averted her gaze and concentrated on the unseen bird singing from high in the large birch tree to the right of the house.
I knew your husband.
Snapping to attention, she frowned. You did? Wariness coiled tight in her chest. She looked at the house and tried to rationalize how they could have met. He did own the house even if Pete Kinsey lived here. They were business partners, after all.
Not partners, exactly.
Apprehension chilled her skin like a cold wind. Meaning?
Brody shifted his feet in a restless gesture before saying, You see, your husband and Pete Kinsey were, well
Yes?
Man. His hard jaw tensed. Im botching this up.
Yes?
Man. His hard jaw tensed. Im botching this up.
The wind turned into a full-blown hurricane. Could he have the answers she sought? What? What should I know?
Locking his gaze with hers, Brody stated, They were the same man.