Her Best Friend's Keeper (Finley Creek Book 1)

by Calle J. Brookes

They were nervous little creatures, though. Gabby and Brynna liked being isolated from the rest of the TSP, protected from the crowds.

  They drew masculine attention—how could they not, as pretty as they were—but they didn’t enjoy that. They’d rather hide. Benny indulged them. And when some of the guys got a bit too close to his girls, he’d step in. Protect.

  Brynna was such a serious little thing, with big light brown eyes and long carrot red hair. She took everything so literally.

  He listened to their conversation with half an ear. Gabby liked to chatter while she worked. Brynna definitely did not. There were a lot of “ums, and uh-huhs” from the slightly younger woman throughout their day. That was normal for them. His office was just close enough to their desks for him to hear most of what they said every day.

  When he heard the talk shift to the Marshall murders he sat up and paid closer attention. They rarely spoke of that, though he knew both had been impacted by it. By the loss of their friend Sara.

  “So you don’t mind if I look at the old video?” Brynna was asking. Benny’s breath backed up. He most certainly did not want her looking at the zip drive in evidence. He’d placed it there himself, and he knew exactly what it contained.

  “No. But I don’t want to look at it. Ever again,” Gabby said. Benny had no difficultly imagining the look on her face. Gabby’s face was as expressive as Brynna’s wasn’t. The two were opposites in a lot of ways, and exact copies of each other in still different ones.

  He didn’t want either of those girls digging around in that old file. Not for anything.

  But how was he supposed to stop them?

  He wanted to keep it quiet and buried for the rest of his life. And he for damned sure didn’t want to make that note of fear creep in to Gabby’s voice. He hated it when she was afraid.

  And then Brynna said something that made his blood run cold. “I’m thinking of running the video through Carrie’s system. Seeing if there’s anything on it the original investigators missed. And to see if our program works.”

  Brynna was talking about looking into the murders now.

  Not Brynna. She didn’t need to be involved in that shit in any way. Not with any of this.

  Neither did Gabby, for that matter.

  These two together? Would they be able to figure out who the men on the video were?

  Bennett was the only one who’d gotten close enough to the camera that day. If he’d screwed up even once...

  Brynna and Gabby could identify him. Could take what he’d done and pick it right apart. They were that good at what they did.

  He coughed. And coughed some more as panic took a hold of his throat. These girls could ruin him. End him.

  And he wasn’t the only man involved. If word got out to the wrong people, Gabby and Brynna would be as good as dead.

  They rushed into his office, worry for him on their beautiful faces. Gabby put her hand on his shoulder. “Benny? Are you ok?”

  Brynna grabbed a bottled water out of his mini-fridge and handed it to him. “You don’t look good. I think you need to go home.”

  “I think you’re right.” He’d go home. And he’d try to figure out just what he was supposed to do now. Figure out how he was supposed to protect the people he loved the most.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

  ***

  IT had been a particularly brutal day for Gabby’s department and she was jumpy by the time her shift ended—ninety minutes after she was supposed to clock out for the day. Benny had needed her to stay over since he’d left early. That extra hour had turned into ninety minutes, thanks to a last minute request from Guns and Gangs.

  She had half an hour to take a taxi and get started on dinner before Elliot arrived.

  The idea that Elliot was coming over was just another jumping bean down her spine.

  She didn’t know if she could do this. She’d never had on a man in her apartment except for Jarrod or Brynna’s father. She’d been far too afraid to, honestly.

  It all went back to the ‘her apartment was her sanctuary’ thing, didn’t it?

  Still, this was Elliot Marshall, head of the Finley Creek Texas State Police. If she couldn’t trust a police chief, a man she’d known since before she had boobs, who could she trust?

  Sobering thought.

  She paid the cab driver and hurried into her building. She’d have to make sure the apartment was clean and that she had all the ingredients.

  It was just dinner, Gab. Just dinner with an old friend. He wasn’t going to eat her, or turn into a troll, or a demon or anything else.

  It wasn’t a date, or anything like that. It was dinner and conversation. Period. Between old family friends.

  Maybe he needed it, too. Maybe he needed a reminder of what his family had been like from someone else’s perspective.

  Maybe she needed to call Mel and get some serious advice and fast. Get her head on straight, or something. She had her phone out and speed dial number three pressed with barely a thought. She’d just said hello when she arrived at her door.

  Her open door. Her open and cracked door.

  “Mel. My door’s open. It’s not supposed to be open!” She started to touch the door but stopped. Gabby knew better than to go into an unsafe situation. And this was definitely that. She flattened herself against the wall just outside her apartment and forced herself not to hyperventilate, or run screaming out into the night.

  “Get out of the building and call it in. Don’t look around, just go. Right now! Now, Gabby! Go! Get out! I’m on my way. I’m coming!”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

  ***

  ELLIOT saw the Finley Creek city police cars—not TSP—the moment he pulled up outside Gabby’s building. He parked and immediately went looking for the people in charge.

  He flashed his credentials at the two officers and got the reverence and respect his position deserved. Texas State Police was higher on the jurisdictional hierarchy than city police. “Sir, there are two TSP detectives inside. We were just getting ready to interview neighbors.”

  “What happened? Was someone hurt?”

  “B and E on the sixth floor. Apartment D.”

  “Six-D? Gabrielle Kendall? Gorgeous blonde with purple glasses? She’s with the TSP.”

  “That’s her.”

  “Have everything you find sent directly to the TSP, care of my office.” He left the men and went inside. He didn’t bother with the elevator. They’d said B-and-E, not assault. She was ok; she was ok. Elliot sped up. He needed to see her for himself.

  Elliot found Gabby inside her apartment talking to two detectives he recognized from the second floor of the TSP. Evers and Callum, if he recalled correctly.

  “Elliot!” She looked at him and Elliot couldn’t miss the panic in her eyes. She started to step toward him and he saw just how pale she actually was. How she shivered. “You’re here early. Thank goodness. I-I-I…”

  Wild-eyed panic. Fear.

  Damn it.

  Hell with it, he needed to touch her. The thought of her scared and vulnerable pissed him off. And hurt him. What in hell had happened?

  He barely looked at the trashed living room around him. He stepped over something—stuffing from an armchair, he thought—and put his hands on her shoulders. He turned her to face him. “Breathe, Gabby.”

  “I can’t find Bug.”

  “Who?”

  “My cat. He’s not here. I can’t find him.”

  No wonder. The living room and kitchen areas were damned near destroyed. Who? Why? “Honey, start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”

  “I came home and found my apartment like this. That’s all I know. I went downstairs to the security guard and he called it in. I stayed there until the local police came.”

  “Did you see anyone?”

  “No.” She swallowed and started shaking beneath his hands. “I noticed the door was open and it shouldn’t have been. So I didn’t go in, even to look for him. Bug had to have slipped o
ut, Elliot. He’s going to be really scared. He’s an indoor cat.”

  “Inside an apartment building with doors that have to be buzzed open or opened with a code. We’ll find the cat.” The animal was the least of his worries. Whomever had done this to her apartment had taken one hell of a risk and it was definitely targeted. Random breaking and entering wouldn’t have done this kind of damage. Not like this. No random burglar had ever slashed an armchair in at least three dozen long slashes and then pulled the stuffing out into the floor. Not that he had ever seen, anyway.

  No. That told him rage.

  She had security in this building. No one should have been able to get into her apartment. Someone had to have that code. She’d given him the code that morning in his office and had told him that it changed on a monthly basis. It was a secured facility that she’d said her step-father insisted she live in. Protected, as much as a young woman could be. Which could potentially limit their suspect pool, at least. He looked at her face again and the depth of worry and fear had his gut clenching.

  They’d find the sonofabitch who’d done this.

  But first they had to find the cat. Even if Elliot had to go door-to-door himself. He pulled her head to his chest and brushed a kiss over her blonde hair. “It’ll be ok, baby. I promise. Even if I have to get the entire TSP post out, we’ll figure this out.”

  Someone called her name from the door and he turned to see the redhead who worked with Gabby in the forensics department. She stood just outside in the hall, holding a squirming and pissed off cat. Gabby looked at her friend and hiccupped.

  “Bryn, you found him! Thank goodness.”

  “He found Mel. Ran right up to her like he always does. He was by the elevator. That big plant. I think he used it as a litter pan; someone is going to have to clean it out. It’s gross. Can we come in or do we need to stay out here, Chief Marshall, sir?” She held the cat out away from her chest when he scratched at her arm with a back claw. “I really want to put him down now.”

  He couldn’t remember her name. Had he heard it when he’d first entered the CF department a few days ago? “Call me Elliot when we’re off the clock. No need for formality. Stay out there, though. Gabby, a cat carrier?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  Her friend had the solution. “I can put him in Jarrod’s apartment. He won’t mind. I have a key. For emergencies. This is an emergency.”

  “I forgot about Jarrod, where is he?” Gabby asked as another redheaded woman came up to the door. Elliot felt a small run of surprise. He knew the woman; had worked with her a few years earlier.

  She hadn’t been quite so thin three or four years ago—and hadn’t been leaning on a crutch back then, either. “Melody? How—how are you?”

  “Elliot, it’s good to see you again. I heard through the grapevine you were taking Blankenbaker’s place. I’m doing ok. As you can see, I had an argument with a .38. The .38 almost won. What happened here?” She looked at the two detectives expectantly. Elliot vaguely registered how the two men around his own age sucked in their guts and squared their shoulders when the woman focused on them. “Hey, boys. Long time, no see.”

  Mel had always had that impact on men of any age. It was the eyes and the hair. They’d laughed about it together before.

  “I’ll be back. I’m going to take him upstairs to Jarrod’s,” the other redhead said. Side by side they looked alike enough that he placed them as sisters, easily. Mel’s hair was darker, but the similarities were strong.

  It sank in then. Beck. Kevin and Susan Beck’s daughters. The Becks had been close friends of his parents for years. He’d probably known of the younger woman for her entire life. There had been one memorable Saturday when he’d babysat for the three younger ones. Most likely this friend of Gabby’s was one of those girls, wasn’t she?

  That had been his one and only time ever agreeing to babysit for girls. They’d horrified him. Completely. Was this the one who’d locked him in the bathroom for two hours that day? The hair color was right—carroty. Only one had had hair that color. It probably was her, then. He’d been stuck in the Becks’ bathroom until his father and hers had taken the door off the hinges to free him.

  The connection to his past was pretty damned strong around there lately. She started to back out of the door, the cat tight in her arms.

  “Wait. Detective Callum will escort you.” It was entirely possible the person responsible for the damage to Gabby’s apartment was still in the building. And he wasn’t giving him another possible target in Kevin Beck’s daughters. “Just in case.”

  She looked at the detective hesitantly. “Ok. Let’s get going, then. He’s scratching me and wants put down. Detective Foster lives on the eighth floor.”

  Callum looked at her appraisingly. Elliot had an idea what the man was thinking. The carrot hair didn’t hide how pretty this Beck daughter was. “Yes, ma’am. You, uh, want me to carry him? I’d be glad to help.”

  “That’s ok. I don’t think Bug the Cat likes men very much. He only likes Gabby and me and Mel.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

  ***

  ELLIOT turned his attention to the other two women. Mel was in front of Gabby, speaking softly but firmly. Her free hand held Gabby’s and Gabby was looking straight at her. Almost hyper-focused. Something about it struck him. It looked almost practiced. Like they’d been there before.

  How close were they? He took a moment to study the two as they spoke. The younger sister returned within moments and settled next to Gabby on the couch. Melody had had to sit, regardless of the damage done to the furniture. He definitely wasn’t used to seeing her so vulnerable.

  Thankfully, the couch was undisturbed.

  He couldn’t say the same about the rest of the place. Or Gabby.

  The panic had just kept growing in her eyes. He was honestly shocked she hadn’t exploded by now.

  Elliot felt like a fifth wheel while the Beck sisters tried to comfort Gabby.

  Her panic and fear went deep. Traumatically deep, and Elliot totally understood it. For the first time it started to sink in that what had happened to his family had greatly impacted her. Had shaped her into who she was now. Still influenced her every day of her life.

  And what she was…was terrified. Who the hell had done this to her?

  And how was he supposed to find them?

  Elliot caught the look Mel sent him a few minutes later. She turned toward her sister. “Bryn, I’m going to talk to Elliot for a minute.”

  Brynna blinked at her sister, then nodded. “She’s going to twig out again, isn’t she?”

  “Not if we don’t let her. Help her get some clothes together for a few days.” Mel’s tone was firm. Elliot’s curiosity rose. There was an undertone there that he didn’t quite understand. “Go help her, Bryn. I think she needs it.”

  “Of course.” She grabbed Gabby’s hand and pulled her down the hallway, past Detective Evers.

  Elliot waited until she was out of sight and looked back at Mel. “What do you want to say to me?”

  “Outside. Just between the two of us.”

  It took her a moment to make her way out into the hall. When they were alone he pulled the door shut behind them. “Ok. Spill.”

  “At least two dozen cops live in this apartment building, Elliot. Six or eight of them are with the TSP. Including two with Callum’s department. One with Major Crimes. They’d have no difficulty getting the security code. Of getting in here. Something to keep in mind.”

  “I see.”

  “I don’t quite think you do.” Mel looked him straight in the eye and didn’t sugar coat. Mel had always been straightforward, something he’d appreciated when they’d worked together before. “Gabby isn’t the kind to make enemies. She barely leaves this apartment. She even has her groceries delivered. She doesn’t drive and the people she’s closest to in this city are me, my sister, and Jarrod Foster. We get her out into the world as much as we can, but…that’s it. She doesn’t eve
n speak to her neighbors.”

  That was more than he had expected. “Why?”

  “Afraid. What happened to your family. What she saw. I have my theories, and am convinced she has both anxiety issues and PTSD. Mild agoraphobia. This violation of her sanctuary is going to hurt her big time. We can take her home with us. We’ve done that before when she’s had a tough time or two.”

  “No. If someone is targeting Gabby, I don’t want your family in danger,” Elliot said.

  “Do you think this is related to the past?” Mel asked.

  “I don’t know. If it’s not random, then what else could it be?”

  “If it’s not, there’s a reason. I’m counting on you to find it. I’m a bit out of the game now. I wish…” Mel studied him for a minute. “This will hit her. Hard. Once it sinks in. If you need to, call us. We’ll talk her down. We’ve done it before.”

  “She’s lucky to have you as her friend.”

  “I don’t think she’s had very many of those in the last ten years. She’s one of the most alone people I know. And we’re just as lucky to have her. She’s done wonders for Brynna as a friend. My sister’s never had a close friend before Gabby. And she went with me to therapy when I was learning to walk again. Stuck by my side, no matter how snarly I got. My sisters are my sisters—but Gabby is my best friend. Take care of her, ok?”

  “I’ll do my best.” How much taking care of did this woman do with Gabby?

  “And one more thing—if you’re not serious about her, you might want to cool down on the smoldering looks. Enough to melt a girl where it counts, if you know what I mean? Gabby hasn’t caught on yet, but I’m not blind. Something to keep in mind.” Mel grinned and he remembered the woman she once was. It was nice to see she was still around in there, ready to yank on chains when needed.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.