Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set

by Elizabeth Bevarly

  “What has gotten into you? All of the sudden, you’re acting….”

  “What?” He caressed the material above her pubic bone, sliding her panties back and forth. Bonnie’s body began to hum.

  She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. “I said we need to stop. I don’t want to carry on like this when my children could wake up and come in here.”

  Brandt watched her, a nearly dangerous look in his eyes. “Maybe I should just go.”

  “If you can’t control yourself, maybe you should.”

  They stared at each other for a long, horrible moment. Bonnie tried to decipher his expression, but she couldn’t. It was as if Brandt Sherrod had disappeared, and this stranger had taken his place.

  “Yes. Yes, I think you should go.”

  His head moved forward in a nod, but he never broke eye contact with her. Standing up, he strolled to the door. “I’ll see you around, Bonnie.”

  And he was gone.

  What had just happened?

  Bonnie had never seen this side of Brandt before. Why was he acting this way?

  She ran through their conversation in her mind.

  He’d brought up his past and said he understood why she didn’t want to see him anymore. That was weird. Why would he think that? It seemed early on when she didn’t want anything to do with him, it hadn’t occurred to him to leave her alone. Now it was as if…he was setting her up to dump him.

  She’d told him she had fallen in love with him, and he’d pushed her away.

  Why?

  To test her?

  Was that what this was, a test to see if she really did love him?

  Oh, no, you don’t.

  Bonnie opened the door and ran into the night. His car was pulling out of her driveway. Could she get his attention?

  “Brandt, Brandt!” She kept running right out to the street and stopped in front of his car.

  His narrowed eyes studied her. He rolled down the window. “What do you want?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “I’m not finished with you.”

  A car turned the corner and approached them on the street.

  “Can you pull back into the driveway?” Bonnie asked.

  He shook his head. “I better go.”

  “Please, Brandt. This won’t take long.” Or maybe it would. She didn’t know what this was or how long it would take. She just knew he couldn’t leave yet.

  He looked at the rearview mirror then back at her. She stepped on the curb and waited. Finally, he turned the steering wheel and the car rolled from blacktop to pavement.

  Yes!

  Bonnie walked up to the car. “Engine off.”

  “What did you want to tell me?”

  “It’s a secret. You like secrets, don’t you?”

  He arched an eyebrow. Killing the motor, he stepped out of the car, shut the door, and leaned against it. “What?”

  “Yeah, what?” She held out her hand for his keys.

  The corner of his mouth turned up, and he shook his head.

  “Why not?”

  “What are you going to do, throw them?”

  “I’m much too sensible to do that.” She gestured for them, and to her surprise, he placed them on her palm. “Thank you,” she said.

  He resumed his stance against the car. “Now what?”

  She swung the key ring around her finger a couple of times. “You’re good at your job. Being a ninja.”

  “And you’re good at your job. Being a bloodhound.”

  “Yes, but I missed a scent back there in my kitchen, and I’m sorry about that.”

  Brandt folded his arms across his chest.

  “I know it took a lot for you to come here tonight after being at Breckinridge, knowing that I knew what you were accused of, knowing some of your history you just found out about. As a ninja, you are used to hiding and not being detected. I imagine just coming by tonight was uncomfortable after so much disclosure. Maybe it was unfair of me to tell you I’ve fallen in love with you. I should have played hard to get a little longer until you got used to me knowing you, seeing…really seeing you.”

  Brandt looked away.

  “What are you thinking?”

  He shook his head and shoulders as if he were trying to loosen up his muscles. “I’m thinking of a joke.”

  Bonnie sure hadn’t been expecting him to be thinking about jokes, but maybe all of this was too intense. Maybe he needed a reprieve, and this was his way of taking one. She decided to practice patience and acceptance.

  “All right. I like jokes. Let me hear it.”

  “A three-legged dog walks into a bar, sits down, and says ‘I’m looking for the man who shot my paw.’”

  Bonnie smiled.

  “Corny, huh?”

  “Yeah. Want to come to dinner tomorrow night?”

  “Where will your kids be?”

  “Here. You can tell the joke to Andrew and Curtis. They won’t think it’s corny.”

  “Me eating dinner here with your kids doesn’t sound like a discreet affair.”

  “It’s just dinner. If you like, we can meet you somewhere, act like we just happened to run into each other.”

  “Kayla will never buy it.”

  “No. So, just come over to the house.” She tossed his keys to him, and he caught them. “We’ll eat at six. See you tomorrow.” Bonnie turned and began to walk back to the house.

  Brandt appeared in front of her. Then she was in his arms, and he was kissing her as if his life depended on it.

  “My Bonnie. Oh, my Bonnie,” he whispered as he kissed a trail from her mouth to her ear. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with you, but I think it’s loving you with my whole heart. It scares me to death.”

  “Where’s your ninja whimsy you were telling me about? Come on and play with me, Brandt. Falling in love can be a lot of fun.”

  His hands ran up and down her back. “You don’t want someone who can’t love you back. You told me that inside.”

  Bonnie drew away from him so she could gaze into his eyes. “You already do love me, I think. That’s why you’re scared. It’s all right. We’ll figure it out together.”

  The next morning, Bonnie hummed happily as she settled into her desk at work. Brandt had accepted her dinner invitation after a few more soul touching kisses under her carport. She’d led him under the darkened interior for fear the neighbors would see Bonnie’s response to his confession. This morning when she’d told the children Brandt was coming for supper, they’d seemed happy about it. Bonnie logged onto her computer and checked email. One new message waiting in her inbox caught her attention. She clicked it open:

  Dear Bonnie,

  I received your message via Facebook inquiring if I used to serve on the police force in Carlton Heights, Kentucky. Yes, I did for eight years. Pino was my maiden name. I am now Janet Thorn. I live in Oma, West Virginia. My telephone number follows.

  Bonnie immediately picked up the telephone and dialed the number at the bottom of the message. Janet picked up on the first ring, and Bonnie identified herself.

  “I’m calling to ask if you remember a case you worked about thirty-five years ago. The incident was a domestic disturbance in which a woman was beat up by her boyfriend. The woman had two sons who were at the house that night.”

  “That describes about half the calls I had while I was a police officer. I’m not sure I’ll be able to help you.”

  “Can I tell you a little more about it to see if it might trigger your memory?”

  “What business are you in?”

  “I work for the Commonwealth of Kentucky locating beneficiaries.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “The man I’m trying to locate is one of the little boys. The woman’s name was Susan Sherrod. Her sons were Brandt and Marshall Sherrod. They were five and six years old. According to the police report, one boy went to the hospital and the other one was taken into custody by Child Protective Services.”

  “Act
ually, yes, I do remember the Sherrod boys. I was new to the force, and it was the first time I ever had to deal with something like that.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “The assailant beat up Susan and one of her sons. When we arrived on scene, Marshall was cradling his little brother. We had to pull them apart so that Brandt could go to the hospital.”

  “Wait. Marshall was the younger child.”

  “I don’t think so. Marshall was the older boy—dark hair and eyes. Brandt was the tow headed one. He looked like a little doll. Marshall kept screaming for Brandt who was unresponsive at the scene. I can still hear that boy screaming his brother’s name. They transported Brandt to St. Joseph’s hospital where he died a few hours later.

  “Are you telling me Brandt Sherrod died that night?”

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bonnie changed the phone from one ear to the other.

  Janet continued. “A CPS worker took Marshall, who I heard was taken to a mental health facility in a catatonic state. Oh, my gosh, it was one of the saddest things I’ve ever witnessed. I had to go to therapy to deal with it.”

  “Are you sure?” Bonnie asked. “Are you sure Brandt was the little boy who died?”

  “All I can tell you is that his brother kept screaming his name. I can still hear it in my head. ‘Brandt! Brandt!’ It took three people to get that boy away from his brother.”

  “And the boy who kept calling his name was the dark-haired boy. He was the one who had to go to the mental hospital?”

  “Yes. Marshall Sherrod. Like the school. That’s how I remember his name.”

  Bonnie massaged her head as she listened to Janet’s story. All of this was unbelievable.

  “So, you’re trying to locate Marshall Sherrod?” Janet asked.

  “Well,” Bonnie sighed, “I thought I was. Do you think you could meet me today? I know the boy you’re speaking of. He’d like to meet you so you can fill in some of the missing pieces of his life.”

  ****

  Bonnie met Brandt at her front door. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  This was dinner at her house with her children.

  She still wore her work blouse and skirt, but she had a tea towel thrown over her shoulder and an apron at her waist. He took note of her troubled expression and wringing hands, but it was the red toenail polish on her bare feet that captured his attention.

  The caveman in him grunted enthusiastically. “Please tell me I’m going to see you barefoot in the kitchen tonight. Every man’s fantasy.”

  She shot him the look, and he pulled her to him and dropped a kiss on that no-nonsense mouth.

  Bonnie pushed him away. “Don’t do that. I don’t want them freaking out before we’ve had a chance to ease them into our relationship.”

  So, the discreet affair had morphed into a relationship. Interesting, what a heart-to-heart talk in the driveway and a serious necking session in her carport could accomplish.

  “You don’t want me getting all frisky, you need to keep the shoes on,” he said.

  Bonnie motioned for him to come inside the house. Brandt strolled inside, and she shut the door behind him.

  Brushing by him, she walked toward the back of the house. He’d used the front door as a formality, but it seemed her kids hadn’t noticed. “Yeah? And what was your excuse last night?” she threw over her shoulder.

  “Apparently, I was trying to offend you enough to kick me out, and it would have worked, too, if it wasn’t for your pesky bloodhound tendencies making you chase me down the street.” Brandt followed her.

  He should be reeling from his meeting with Janet Thorn. Well, he was, actually, but Bonnie had gone with him. She’d sat next to him when Janet had recounted her memories of that terrible night when he was six. Bonnie had held his hand on the way back as he processed the truth of adopting his brother’s name as his own, of blocking out the memories of what had happened to Marshall…or Brandt. She’d suggested options for finding where Brandt had been buried.

  He should be sad, but he wasn’t. There was nothing but relief in finally knowing, finally having all the pieces of a very old puzzle, knowing who he was and who his brother was.

  And having someone to share the burden and the celebration with.

  It felt so damn good.

  He watched her hips sway in front of him and wondered what time her kids went to bed. She raised her arm and pointed as they passed the living room. Brandt looked in the direction she indicated. Her sons stood inside the doorway. They returned his curious stare.

  “Mom says we have to play a board game with you,” Curtis said.

  “Kayla has to play, too.” Andrew smiled.

  Kayla lounged on the corner of the couch. She held her cell phone in her hand, but she watched him as well.

  “We’re playing Uno,” she informed him. “And every time you draw a card from the deck, you have to answer a question from us.”

  Brandt glanced behind him and saw the last of Bonnie as she swished into the kitchen.

  The traitor.

  He followed the boys in the room.

  Andrew pointed to a rocking chair placed next to the coffee table. “You sit there.”

  Brandt did so. He looked at each person in the room. “I shuffle the cards before we start,” he announced and then laughed when three faces fell.

  “You can’t shuffle the cards,” Curtis said.

  “Yeah. We already shuffled them,” Andrew added.

  Kayla grinned wickedly.

  Brandt picked up the large deck of cards. “You guys wouldn’t be cheating just so you can ask me a bunch of questions, would you?”

  ****

  Brandt, Bonnie, Kayla, Andy, and Curtis stood at a grave next to the fence line in Carlton Heights Memorial Cemetery. After Janet’s news, Brandt had searched and found the death certificate for his brother and hospital records showing the Catholic Sisters at St. Joseph’s hospital paid to have the child buried with a small gravestone to mark the grave.

  Andy put a small flag with a picture of his favorite video game symbol on it. Curtis laid a football next to the flag. Each child had decided to bring an item for the trip to see Brandt’s brother’s grave.

  “It’s weird to see your name on a tombstone.” Kayla placed a bouquet of red roses on the grave and stood.

  “It’s even weirder to see my name on a tombstone,” Brandt replied.

  “That’s what I meant.”

  “I know. I was trying to be funny.”

  “It’s not really funny that he’s your brother, and that he died,” Andy said. “I would cry if Curtis died, and they put my name on his rock.”

  “Tombstone,” Kayla corrected.

  “It’s a rock,” Andy said.

  “Technically, Brandt was his name, but the state got mixed up, and I didn’t know it. I always remember my name as being Brandt.”

  “It’s kind of neat, I guess,” Kayla said. “A way that you keep your brother with you. Like he’s part of you, and you’re part of him.”

  “And when you die, you can just be buried here since you already got your name here,” Andy said.

  “Andy,” Bonnie admonished. “Don’t be so morbid.”

  “What’s morbid mean?” Curtis began climbing the fence.

  “Don’t climb that fence.”

  “Morbid means don’t climb the fence?” Andy asked.

  “It means creepy,” Kayla said. “But Mom doesn’t want the creeper climbing the fence.”

  “I guess the memorial service is over,” Brandt said.

  Bonnie squeezed his hand. “You said they could come. What did you expect? That they’d be reverent?”

  Brandt’s lips lifted in a small smile. “I guess Marshall would like kids here since he was a kid when he died. I mean, Brandt.”

  “He’s been Marshall to you a long time. I think you can still call him that, if you like.”

  Brandt bent down and touched the headst
one. Bonnie dropped his hand and moved her fingers to his shoulder.

  The headstone read, Brandt Sherrod, Child of God with the dates of his birth and death.

  “How does it feel, finally knowing what happened?”

  “I’m not sad, and that surprises me. I’m thankful that I finally know, and I guess I’m thankful he didn’t suffer any more after that night.” Brandt straightened. He tugged Bonnie into his arms. “I’m especially thankful that the Bloodhound tracked me down. Without you, I would have never found my brother.”

  “Will you guys not hang all over each other in front of us?” Kayla said. She took Curtis’s hand. “The boys and I are going to walk around. Okay, Mom?”

  “All right.” Bonnie moved to Brandt’s side. “What do you want to do now?”

  “Go home with you. I’ve got to fly out tonight at eleven on a job. If you’re agreeable, we can order in pizza.”

  “I like that idea.”

  THE END

  About Jennifer Johnson

  Who am I?

  I am a writer

  I write contemporary romantic fiction.

  I aspire to be Wonder Woman with the awesome leotard and the criminal-fighting boots on some days.

  On other days I am Wonder Woman with my lasso of Truth and my no-nonsense-pursuit of justice.

  I live in the South across the river from the Midwest. I'm married to Superman with a Tony Stark mind. We have Wonder/Super children and a bionic dog. All in all it's a comic book kind of life.

  THE GULL MOTEL

  A Barefoot Book

  Amie Denman

  Savvy Thorpe’s brainy reputation is put to the test when her aunt and uncle hand over their shabby beach motel on the Gulf Coast of Florida. Between resisting her sexy neighbor, managing a motel, and unraveling a real estate scheme, Savvy has to find a way to keep her footing in hot shifting sand.

  Savvy Thorpe needs a vacation. Finally finished with college, she heads to her favorite shabby motel on Florida’s Gulf Coast where her aunt and uncle always save her room twenty-four. She quickly finds out, though, that The Gull Motel is not just her home away from home. It’s hers to manage while her aunt and uncle take an extended trip.