Body Rocks [The Andersons 3] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Marie Jermy

  “Mmm, maybe tonight, Daniel.” She licked a tiny speck of yogurt from the corner of her mouth, and Daniel groaned, his cock so hard it hurt. “I’d like to go see Frank and Joe.”

  His fantasy popped like a pinprick to a balloon, his cock deflating just as quick. Since his brain had also malfunctioned in that he couldn’t think of a single excuse not to go, he instead crammed a forkful of food into his mouth and chewed very slowly.

  A low rumbling then sounded, and his house shook for a few seconds. Samantha again eyed his swaying kayak with concern.

  “Is that…” she began.

  “Safe as my earthquake-proof house,” he finished. He grinned. “These tremors are exactly the reason why Mom and Dad live in New York. Dad’s scared witless of earthquakes. Frank is always ribbing Dad about the time he found him cowering beneath a desk at the station. There hadn’t been an earthquake though. It was a bunch of workers outside digging up the sidewalk with pneumatic drills!”

  Samantha laughed. “I haven’t heard that story before. Let’s go and see Frank, Daniel. Please.”

  “Sure, baby.” Daniel crammed another forkful of food into his mouth. Christ, he’d walked straight into that one. He inwardly grimaced. He strongly suspected the past was set to explode in his face.

  * * * *

  As was the norm on a Friday, indeed, any day of the week, Frank Walsh was at his desk arguing with the wiry and dour-faced Lieutenant Joe Richards about his heavy workload. Smartly dressed in police civilian uniform, his long, flaxen hair tied back in a neat ponytail, Walsh had worked at the Hollywood Station for as long as anybody could remember. Indeed, his coworkers often said he’d been born at his desk.

  Walsh was damned good at his job. Over the years, many of the detectives he’d worked alongside had suggested his sharp mind and methodical approach would stand him in good stead as a detective. However, Walsh had refused to make the switch from civilian to cop because he favored the nine-to-fiver routine. Basically, that was a load of crock, because he was often found at his desk well into the evening and, on occasion, the early hours of the morning.

  When the phone call came through from the front desk announcing the arrival of Daniel and Samantha, Walsh told the sergeant to send them up. He then relaxed back in his chair, picked up a mug of long-cooled coffee, and waited. Richards pasted his butt on the corner of Walsh’s desk and also waited.

  The swing door opened. Walsh’s mug froze halfway to his mouth. He’d never believed in ghosts. Until now. A shiver darted down his spine as he stared at the man in the doorway. He was immediately transported back thirty years, for Daniel Ferris was the mirror image of Sam Carrick. Another shiver darted down his spine when he switched his gaze to Samantha. She was the mirror image of a young Jess.

  “Holy Moses!” Richards murmured, as he, too, must have been transported back thirty years.

  “Nope, the name’s Daniel Ferris.” Daniel grinned and clapped Walsh on the back, dislodging his stunned expression. “How’s it hanging, Frank?”

  “To the left as always. You?”

  “To the left, right, and center.”

  “Just like your brother, Sam—er, I mean your father, Ray, you’re a real bighead,” Walsh quickly corrected himself. Judging by Samantha’s stunned expression, though, it wasn’t quick enough.

  * * * *

  Daniel could have quite happily punched Walsh’s lights out. Not that it was Walsh’s fault for revealing a family secret that he probably thought everybody, including Samantha, had been informed of. Walsh knew the Ferrises and the Andersons were close.

  Nor was it Walsh’s fault for the realization now dawning on Samantha’s face. It was obvious she’d quickly and correctly put Ray Ferris plus Sam Carrick and Daniel Ferris equals father and sons. He silently cursed his stupidity. He should have told her. And now he was going to pay the price. Big time.

  “Actually, Sam’s my half brother. Not that it makes any difference.” Daniel shook his head and planted his hands on his hips. “Christ, all these years you two knew, yet you never said anything.”

  “It wasn’t their place to, Daniel.”

  The underlining sharpness in Samantha’s tone was difficult to miss. Daniel stole a quick glance at her. Uh-oh. Those sparkling emerald-green eyes of hers were like twin laser beams. Heat rolled off of her in waves, and they weren’t waves of the sexual kind, either. More like the rumblings of a pending volcanic eruption.

  “When did you find out?” Richards asked Samantha.

  “Oh, all of two seconds ago.”

  “And you, Daniel?”

  “Just before I went to Manila. Two months now.” Daniel afforded another quick glance at Samantha. Uh-oh indeed, but he blew out a breath and pressed on. “Obviously you two remember him. What was he like? Dad’s reluctant to talk about him, and I wouldn’t dare ask Sammy’s mother.”

  “Me, neither,” Samantha chimed in, her tone a little less sharp but a lot more derisive. “I feel like I can’t even ask why their photo is gone from our mantel. One day it was there, the next, poof, gone.”

  Walsh frowned. “What photo?”

  “It was taken about thirty years ago. Mom’s wearing her uniform and is standing behind Sam. The smile on his face reminds me of the one you give when you’re thinking about your wild fantasies,” she told Daniel, throwing him a pout. “The smile of the cat that’s got the cream, the canary, and a whole ball of wool.”

  Daniel didn’t think sarcasm suited Samantha, but even so that cynical pout of hers made him feel like six inches tall. “Hey, my mind is as pure as the driven snow. Like I said, baby, I’m an angel.” He blew her a kiss to try to diffuse her anger, but her icy glare cut him down to three inches. Shit, strike him down now. He deserved it.

  Richards exchanged raised-eyebrow looks with Walsh. “I think I know the photo you’re talking about.” He turned to Walsh. “You took it to include it in an article you were writing about on civilians within the PD.”

  “I did,” Walsh gaped. “How the hell do you remember that?”

  “Photographic memory,” Richards deadpanned.

  “What was Sam like?” Daniel again asked.

  “Well, if you haven’t already guessed, you remind us of him,” Walsh replied. “And not just in looks, either. Your whole personality is Sam. I’m just surprised you’re not a cop.”

  “I left the dangerous job of crime busting to Jessica. It was her dream to become a PI and take over Dad’s agency.”

  “‘The dangerous job of crime busting.’ I like that,” Richards said. “I would have thought being a geologist equals the hazards of being a cop, what with earthquakes and volcanoes and God knows what else our little planet likes to chuck at us.”

  “You’ve been watching too many disaster films,” Daniel said, grinning. “Most of my time is spent in an office predicting when our planet is gonna chuck. Apart from Manila, I’m not usually within a thousand miles of a major earthquake or a volcanic eruption. Not unless you count when my dad erupts.”

  “Or Foxy,” Walsh said, winking at Samantha. “How is the mother of all volcanoes?”

  “Cranky, ’cause you haven’t picked up the phone for a while.”

  “She’s cranky! Not as cranky as me. The last time she called me, the sly ol’ fox reversed the goddamn charges. Carla, my wife, hit the roof when she saw our phone bill. I thought we’d have to remortgage the house to pay it. Oh, I’m glad you think it’s funny,” Walsh said to Richards, who broke with tradition and laughed out loud.

  “Hell, Frank, Jess has been an Anderson for God knows how many years, and yet you still call her Foxy.”

  A deep cough sounded right behind Daniel and an even deeper voice said, “Excuse me, sir. Can Steve and I have a word?”

  Daniel turned around, suddenly finding himself hemmed in by the two men standing almost on his toes. He hadn’t even heard them approach. Obviously they aced at tailing. Tailing? An idea popped into his head, but he quickly rejected it. He didn’t have goose bumps,
and the hairs on his arm were flat. No, whoever these two men were, they were not the ones who’d been following him. Besides, why would they? He didn’t know them, and he was certain they sure as hell didn’t know him. Then it dawned on him. My stalker’s somebody closer to home. Real close. But who? And why did his long-dead brother come to mind?

  Richards unglued his butt from Walsh’s desk and stood. “Samantha, Daniel, this is Detective Nick North,” he said, gesturing to the raven-haired, brooding man, “and this is his partner, Detective Steve South.”

  As with the compass points, South was the complete opposite of North, with blond hair and an easygoing smile. Daniel wasn’t the jealous type. He just didn’t like the way that South directed that easygoing smile of his at Samantha. Not that he could really blame Samantha for returning the smile with one of her sexy-as-sin ones. She was, after all, extremely pissed with him.

  “I’m very pleased to meet you,” Samantha said with another smile.

  North responded with a polite yet terse nod. South, on the other hand, took Samantha’s proffered hand. Daniel didn’t like the way that South held onto it for a moment longer than necessary. “North and South? I bet you two get ribbed a lot for that,” he said. “Is there an East and West, too?”

  “Sir, it’s important,” North said, ignoring Daniel. Not that he could blame him, either. He was acting like an ass.

  Richards flashed a rare and brief grin. “When isn’t it with you, Nick? My office.” He made his apologies and purposely strode away, North and South following in his shadow.

  “Don’t be fooled by Nick’s testiness or Steve’s sunny disposition,” Walsh told them. “Nick can be a real softie. And Steve’s a real hard-ass at times.”

  “And a very nice ass it is, too.”

  Walsh laughed at Samantha’s comment. Daniel didn’t find it remotely funny. “So, Frank, tell me about Sam. What was my brother like?”

  “Yes, please do tell all.”

  Daniel ignored the sneer underlining Samantha’s tone. Carrick had been a part of his life without him even realizing it, and he wanted to know about his brother, what he was like, and what made him tick. What he couldn’t ignore was the knowing that as soon as they left the station, Samantha was going to tear strips from him. Something he utterly deserved.

  Chapter 13

  Samantha was beyond furious as she flung the station’s door open and strode across the parking lot to the VW, not caring if Daniel was behind her or not. She’d asked for no secrets between them, and yet he’d kept the biggest, most important one of all from her.

  “Baby, wait!”

  She whirled around. Daniel managed to halt his running steps before he collided into her. The mint of his toothpaste puffed into her face as he caught his breath. Now that she knew Daniel and Sam Carrick were brothers, the similarities between them were startling and so obvious. She hurt all over, not just in her heart, and when the amber flecks in Daniel’s eyes began to glow, she pushed him away. “Don’t call me baby!”

  He moved forward again and held up his hands, pleading. “Sammy, I know you’re angry—”

  “You have no idea! Now get away from me before I knee you.”

  Daniel heeded her warning and moved back to a respectable and out-of-knee-range distance. “Let’s go home, and I’ll explain everything there.”

  “What’s to explain, Daniel? You didn’t want me to know that Sam’s your brother. End of story. And my home is in Silver Creek,” she added, wanting to hurt Daniel as much as he had her. She turned and walked the short distance to the VW.

  Samantha realized she was acting immaturely, but still the drive back to Daniel’s was spent in stony silence. She and her brother Ross were the only Anderson siblings who could control the volcanic temper that they had inherited from their mother. Ramona and Matt always erupted first before common sense and rational thinking took over. On this occasion, however, Samantha neither cared nor wanted to control her temper. She was angry—incensed—and she felt betrayed. Betrayed by the one man she thought she could trust. She felt abused all over again.

  Daniel made several attempts to engage her in conversation, but she turned to stare out of the window each time. She didn’t want to look into those glowing eyes of Daniel’s. She might just have the urge to poke her fingers into them.

  Heavens, Daniel and Sam Carrick were brothers! Well, half brothers, but it was a minor detail as they were still related. She pondered if her brother Ross knew. He was engaged to Jessica, Daniel’s sister, and she knew her brother was extremely good at extracting information. Ross had learned from the best—their father.

  Samantha also pondered on why her father, and indeed her mother, hadn’t said anything to her, to Ross—if by some miracle he didn’t know already—and to Ramona and Matt. Daniel and Jessica obviously had a right to know, but their families—the Andersons and the Ferrises—were so close and always open and honest with each other. Why remain silent on a matter, which, okay, was past history, yet was nevertheless important? She snorted. Open and honest? Not on this occasion. More like shut and guarded.

  “Are you gonna sit there admiring that brick wall all day, or are you gonna come inside?”

  At Daniel’s words, Samantha realized not only had they arrived at his house but that he had parked the VW under the carport and she was indeed staring at a brick wall, or rather the side of his house. And if he thought his manners of getting out of the car and opening the door for her would soothe her, then he would be waiting a long time.

  Until, that is, she was in his bedroom and had begun to neatly pack her clothes into her suitcase. In all honesty, she didn’t know why she was packing. She had so many questions to ask, and only Daniel knew the answers.

  “I love you, Sammy.”

  The pink chemise she had worn that morning slipped through her fingers and puddled into an untidy heap at her feet. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, finally looking Daniel in the eye. The fact they weren’t glowing in a way calmed her temper.

  “I said I love you, Sammy.”

  Her heart pounded in delight at his admission, but she still said, “And you think that’s going to make everything all right between us?”

  “It’s a start. Especially if you feel the same way.” Daniel shoved a hand through his dark-blond hair, ruffling it into an unruly mess. “Sammy, I’ve been a jerk. I should have told you, but there are reasons for why I didn’t.”

  Samantha sat on the edge of the bed. “Okay, I’m listening. What reasons?”

  He first picked up her chemise, folding it neatly and adding it to the pile in the suitcase. Then he got down on his haunches before her and took her hands in his. “Two reasons. Firstly, your mom asked me not to say anything. She and your dad had both decided not to tell any of you. She said it was nothing to do with you. The past was the past and it should stay that way. Personally, I think she was wrong with not telling you, but in a way, she’s also right. Sam’s been dead for thirty years, and even if they did tell you, it’s not gonna bring him back.”

  “And secondly?”

  “Because I thought if you knew Sam was my brother, you’d do exactly what you’re doing now. Leave and end what’s between us.”

  She shook her head. “No, Daniel, I’m leaving because you broke your promise to me. You promised no secrets, and yet you kept this one from me.” She again shook her head. “Okay, I think I understand and agree with why Mom and Dad didn’t say anything. The past is the past and nothing is going to change that. But it’s ridiculous to think I would leave you because you’re Sam’s brother. It doesn’t make any difference to me whether he’s your brother, your cousin, or your aunt Fanny.”

  “I know. But consider this. And this could be the reason for why your parents didn’t want to say anything. If Sam had lived, he would have married your mom, and you, Ramona, Ross, and Matt would have been his children. We would have been related in some way.”

  “True, but it’s immaterial because it never happened.”


  “But if it had, we’d be talking incest.”

  “Daniel, you’re being ridiculous. It. Never. Happened. I’m Samantha Anderson. Got that?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “But what, Daniel? Don’t you think that Ross would have a different name if he was Sam’s son?” She shook her hands free and patted her chest. “I’m named in memory of Sam. Not Ross. He took on our father’s name, and has Junior for a nickname to boot.”

  “So you don’t think it’s weird having a relationship with me knowing that I’m Sam’s brother, or half brother?”

  She shook her head. “No!”

  Daniel let out what sounded like a sigh of immense relief, and took hold of her hands again. “Oh, Sammy, I’ve been a jerk. Can we start—”

  “Wait. I haven’t finished yet.” She exhaled a long, deep breath. “To reiterate, you’re Sam’s brother. So what? It doesn’t make a difference to what we have together, Daniel. The fact is, I believed our relationship was built on trust. And you let me down.” Daniel opened his mouth but closed it when she narrowed her eyes, silently telling him to shut up. “I trusted you, Daniel. Do you know how hard it was for me to do that after Mark?” He gave a remorseful nod but allowed her to continue. “When you found out I was a virgin, I thought you wouldn’t want me—”

  Daniel did interrupt her then. “How the hell could you think that? Your admission only made me love you more, Sammy! I love the fact that I’m the guy you gave your virginity to. I was so happy, I almost pissed myself. But anyway, that’s beside the point.”

  Samantha felt her lips twitch but wasn’t ready to let Daniel off the hook just yet. “No, it isn’t. Daniel, my virginity was my secret. And I found the courage to tell you. Why couldn’t you extend me the same courtesy and tell me about Sam? And don’t even think about saying ‘Because your mom told me not to.’”

  “’Cause I’m a jerk and a coward,” he murmured with a despondent sigh. “I’m so sorry, Sammy. I never meant to hurt you.” He gently squeezed her fingers. “I don’t want you to go, but if you want to, then I won’t stop you. I just want you to know that I love you and that I have no more secrets. I swear on my life.”