The Truth About Family

by Kimberly Van Meter

  Colin looked up from his paperwork long enough to smile but didn’t elaborate. He didn’t much feel like sharing right at the moment, especially in front of Missy. “What’s up, O’Bannon?” he asked, cutting the invitation for chitchat.

  “That good, huh?” Leslie grinned, seeing right through him. Colin allowed a smile and she handed him a slip of paper. “I figured you might want to see this right away. It’s the mechanic’s report on the McNulty investigation. The plot thickens. Seems someone tried to off old Charlie just like you thought.”

  Missy leaned forward, eager as most rookies were to be a part of the action, until a look from Leslie sent her back to her place. Leslie as a training officer, Colin chuckled silently, was a rough gig for a newbie.

  Quickly scanning to see for himself, Colin felt a grim satisfaction in knowing that his gut instinct had been on target. “‘Partial cut through the brake line,’” he read.

  “Yep.” Leslie shook her head. “Boy, that family has tragedy written all over them.”

  “So I hear.”

  “What’d you find out?”

  Colin paused and Leslie sensed the reason for his hesitation. She turned to Missy, who was once again crowding her. “You know that stack of old case files I showed you earlier?”

  “Yeah,” Missy replied, her expression wary as Leslie smiled.

  “It’s got your name all over it. Remember,” she added as Missy turned to leave, clearly unhappy with her task, “file by case number, not date.”

  “Right,” Missy grumbled, sending one last look Colin’s way as if asking for his intervention, but when he only offered a smile and a short wave she had no choice but to follow orders.

  “Thanks,” he said, knowing Leslie would understand the sensitive nature of his investigation.

  “No problem. She was invading my space anyway. So, whatcha got?”

  “Well, just that Erin’s mom killed herself when Erin was barely out of diapers and a week before that Caroline’s husband, Hank, died in a bad car accident near to the same place Charlie wrecked his truck. Did I miss anything?”

  “Sounds about right.” Leslie sighed. “You know, I feel bad for Erin. It’s not like you can pick your family.”

  “Was there ever any question as to whether the accident was truly an accident?”

  “Hank Walker’s?” Leslie asked, her forehead furrowing. He nodded and she pursed her lips as if unsure whether or not to share. Finally, she relented. “Well, there was some scuttlebutt about the crash but I was just a kid. I don’t remember the details. Why do you ask?”

  “Just something the bartender down at the Lucky Coin said.”

  “Yeah? What’d he say?”

  “Said the last time he saw Charlie was a few months ago. He ordered his usual, but didn’t touch a drop…just stared at it all night. Then he mumbled something about ‘making right with the past’ and left.” He looked at Leslie. “Does that make any sense to you?”

  Leslie shrugged. “Well, rumor has it that Hank’s accident and Charlie’s wife’s suicide were linked. Maybe Charlie was aiming to come clean about what he knows.”

  “How were the two incidents connected?”

  She shrugged. “Not sure. But you’d be surprised how easy it is to cover something up in a small town. I’m sure there’s a report buried in the archive somewhere and even some newspaper articles. But you aren’t going to find anything of value. The trail’s been covered for years and the only person left on the force from those days is the chief.”

  He looked up quickly. “The chief?”

  “Yeah, he was a young officer then. Almost fresh out of the academy. His daddy was the chief before him. It was a shoe-in that he’d get on the department. Back then, the rules against nepotism weren’t as strict.”

  “So, he should know something about the case, then….”

  She stopped him. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s just not.”

  “No reason?”

  The jocularity had long faded from her voice, leaving unease in its wake. “It’s old country gossip but I’d heard rumors here and there that the chief was once in love with Erin’s mom, before she married Charlie. Who knows if it’s true. I think it caused a huge rift between him and Charlie. They were supposed to be best friends at one time.”

  “You’re sure about this?”

  Leslie shook her head. “Of course I’m not sure. Like I said, a lot of it is pure gossip, but it was big enough to keep this town whispering about it for years. Hell, I’ll bet if you go down to Barclay’s barber shop, you’ll still find some old-timers who’d love to tell you about the Granite Hills scandal.”

  His heart sank at the image of a young Erin left to stand alone against the rumors.

  “Listen, that stuff’s old news, best left alone. You know? I’m sure whoever had a beef big enough with Charlie to mess with his brakes had nothing to do with the accident that happened on Old Copper. It’s probably just a weird coincidence.”

  “Probably…” he acknowledged. “Thanks, O’Bannon.”

  “Sure.” She turned to leave, then paused, giving Colin a wry look. “Just do me a favor…don’t go and get yourself into trouble. I’d hate to have to come and rescue you.”

  Colin chuckled and returned to his desk to begin compiling dates. He needed to know which files to pull and figure out where they might be in the archives. Otherwise, he’d be up to his eyeballs in dusty boxes looking for what could turn out to be a needle in a haystack.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ON THE WAY TO THE STATION Erin detoured to Granite Hills Medical. She wasn’t sure why she was making the effort but she felt compelled to check on Charlie’s status. As she made her way to his room, she ignored the waves of anxiety that made her feel like retching and pushed forward with single-minded determination. Whether she liked it or not, she was his only living family.

  Charlie’s doctor was at his bedside, noting his condition and reading his vitals from the chart as she entered.

  “You must be Char— I mean, my dad’s doctor.” She extended a hand for a brief shake, keeping her gaze steady but away from the vision of helplessness her father presented. “Has there been any progress or…” She swallowed. “Or decline in his condition?”

  The doctor—identified as Samuel Rivera—pocketed the pen he was using and addressed Erin with a frankness that she could appreciate.

  “Your father has suffered a major trauma. While we were able to patch the damage to his liver, the years of alcohol abuse have taken their toll. To be honest, it’s just a waiting game. The next few days are crucial to his recovery. Unfortunately, the longer he stays like this—” his gesture forced her gaze to the hospital bed “—the less chance he has of pulling through. I’m sorry.”

  Erin nodded, thanking him for his honesty. “Is there anything I can do for him?” she asked, not quite sure why the question even popped from her mouth. It wasn’t as if she had much experience with offering comfort to her father.

  “Studies show talking to a patient can help speed recovery, interacting with them as if they were coherent and participating in the conversation, engaging in some kind of normalcy.” When she didn’t seem comfortable with that idea, he added, “Or even just holding their hand. Letting them know they’re not alone works wonders.”

  She nodded and the doctor graced her with a short and efficient smile before leaving to check on another patient.

  Hold his hand? That technique might work for normal families but the McNulty clan had never subscribed to the average definition of normal. Somehow she doubted the hospital staff would appreciate their brand of reaching out. If she’d ever held a semidecent conversation with her father where he wasn’t slobbering drunk or she wasn’t locking her door and covering her ears against his bellowing, she sure as hell couldn’t remember it. The steady hiss of the respirator and bleep of the machine monitoring his vitals drew her attention. A subtle frown formed as sh
e faced her father. There were so many questions yet the answers were locked in his head. If he died, the truth would die with him. Something too close to grief at the thought of losing him roughened her voice as she gave his blanketed foot a subtle shake. “You’d better wake up, you old fart,” she muttered. “You’re not getting out of your penance this easy. If you think I won’t chase you into the hereafter you’ve got another thing coming. So you can just forget about dying.”

  “Interesting bedside manner.”

  Startled, she turned and saw Colin smiling at her. A secret thrill unsettled her stomach but she was relieved to see he wasn’t holding their last encounter against her. “You should see our Christmas dinners,” she quipped.

  He chuckled and removed his hat, taking time to ruffle his hair free of the flattened look before coming to stand beside her. He gestured toward Charlie. “Thought I’d come and check up on him. How’s he doing?”

  Erin shook her head. “No change, really. The doctor said the longer he stays this way, the less chance he has of pulling through.”

  “That’s rough,” he said, genuine sorrow reflecting in his eyes. “This has got to be hell for you.”

  Erin gave a short nod but didn’t elaborate. Instead, she concentrated on quelling the disquieting flutters in her belly. “You know, you didn’t have to come all the way down here…you could’ve placed a phone call,” she said, sensing there was more to his visit and conflicted by the hope that his motive was more personal than business.

  “You got me,” he admitted. “I called the house but you weren’t there so I was hoping to find you here.”

  “Well, you found me. What’s going on?” As if reading his mind, she felt the color drain from her cheeks. “Your instincts were right, weren’t they? Someone tampered with Charlie’s brakes.”

  His sigh was answer enough. “Whoever did this could get charged with murder.”

  Someone tried to kill her father and, in doing so, killed Caroline. The realization stole the strength from her legs.

  She tried making it to the chair against the window, but Colin caught her just as her knees buckled and she sagged against him for strength.

  With one arm slung around his shoulder, he placed her carefully in the chair she’d been aiming for. She murmured an embarrassed apology but Colin waved it away.

  “That’s a natural reaction, don’t beat yourself up over it,” he answered, a bit gruffly. “I’ve seen bigger men faint at less upsetting news. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

  That was easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one who’d just crumpled like a Victorian lady with the vapors. She shook her head to clear it but a surreal sense of “I can’t believe this is happening” remained.

  “Listen,” he began, kneeling beside her. “We need to talk. I know you agreed to help but I feel I should be honest with you. I’ve got a feeling that finding the answers we both seek might turn up some unpleasant truths about your family.”

  A familiar chill settled in her body. The whispers, the looks, the rumors… She met Colin’s gaze. “What kind of unpleasant truths?”

  “Not sure,” he admitted. “But it has something to do with your mom’s suicide and your Uncle Hank’s death.” He raked a hand through his hair in an agitated manner. “Unfortunately, all I have to go on are thirty-year-old rumors. The trail is colder than a Michigan winter and there’s no one who wants to dredge up the past. I think your dad may know the whole story…and for some reason decided to break his silence. That’s what put him in danger.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “We need to get back to your dad’s place, see if we missed something the first time.” He paused, his facial expression softening. “I know it’s not your favorite place. I promise we’ll only stay as long as we need.”

  She swallowed and nodded, thankful he understood her reluctance. Drawing a deep breath, she readied herself for another trip down Memory Lane. “When do you want to leave?”

  ARRIVING AT THE CABIN TWENTY minutes later, Colin put the SUV in Park and glanced over at Erin. Her face looked as if it had been chipped from marble and anxiety radiated from her body. Regret at having to put her through this again made him reach across and caress her cheek. Leaning into his touch in a subtle, almost subconscious gesture, she closed her eyes against the feel of his fingers against her skin. Colin’s heart rate quickened and he was overcome with the protective feelings that flooded his chest for a woman he hardly knew but ached to know better. Seconds later, she pulled away and Colin felt her withdrawal as if it were a physical thing.

  “Let’s get this over with,” she said, avoiding eye contact as she exited the vehicle and immediately heading for the cabin.

  He waited a moment to reorient himself to the task at hand, then followed.

  If he were smart, he’d follow her lead and back off, no matter how deep the attraction went, but he was dangerously drawn to her unique personality and it was almost useless to fight it. His head was still a little muddled when he walked into the cabin.

  “Tell me again what we’re looking for?” she asked, frustration lacing her tone even as she shivered.

  Instead of answering right away, he walked to the woodstove and gave it a cursory inspection. It seemed sound and there was a box of old papers in a wooden crate beside it. “First, we’re going to build a fire in this icebox. We can’t focus on anything if we’re too busy listening to the chatter of our teeth. Does your dad have a woodshed out back?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Give me a few minutes and I’ll have this place warmed up.”

  Colin glanced out the window. Dark, ominous clouds gathered on the horizon, promising another snowstorm before long. He figured they had a few hours before they’d have to get out of there. Otherwise, they’d end up spending the night in this rickety shack.

  Within minutes he’d built a serviceable fire in the ancient woodstove and heat was already pouring into the room as the flames devoured the seasoned wood. Erin ceased to shiver and her body began to lose the obvious tension bunching her shoulders.

  “What a Boy Scout you are,” she murmured with the hint of a smile.

  He acknowledged her comment with a grin but it soon faded. It was time to level with her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I don’t think we’ll find much more than we did the first time we came here,” he admitted. “But I figured this was the one place we could talk without fear of being interrupted or being heard.”

  “You brought me here to talk?” She scowled. “This isn’t really a place that encourages me to open up. If anything it makes me want to forget.”

  “I know,” he answered gravely, knowing he had a small window to work with and one wrong move could slam it shut. “And if things weren’t as serious as they are, I wouldn’t dream of bringing you here. But, as much as you hate this place, it might trigger a memory that could help.”

  “Colin, you’re talking about memories I’d rather leave alone. It’s taken me a long time to put the past where it belongs. I know I said I’d help in any way but I’m not sure if I can do what you’re asking.” Her voice dropped an octave and Colin’s heart nearly broke. “I’m afraid I’ll never be the same if I go back down that road.”

  Her lip trembled and the subtle motion tore down his last defense. Without waiting to second-guess how appropriate it was, he closed the distance between them and gathered her in his arms. When she sank against him, burying her nose into his shoulder, he inhaled the subtle scent of her midnight hair that followed her like a gentle breeze. He stroked her back, his fingers lightly dancing up and down her spine, reminding him she was still too thin for her height. He pressed a kiss to her crown and she seemed to move closer, as if craving more, yet unable to ask for it.

  “You can trust me,” he whispered. “You’re not alone this time. I’ll be with you every step of the way. And I swear to you, I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you.”

  And that was the b
are truth, he realized with a start. She slowly drew away and met his gaze. He could tell she was weighing his words, fighting her instinct to close herself off. Hope blossomed in his chest. He pressed a little harder. “Erin, together we can find the answers that will break this nightmare apart. You’ve avoided Granite Hills for fourteen years…how long are you willing to give the past that much power over you?”

  Her face flushed and Colin thought she was about to cry but no tears appeared. “I don’t even know where to start,” she said in a husky whisper.

  “I’ll help you,” he answered softly. She was close enough that he could almost reach out and caress the soft spot on her neck where her heartbeat pulsed with a steady rhythm. Fighting the desire to nuzzle the sensitive area, he cleared his throat and headed for the door. “First, I’m going to get a blanket out of the SUV. Be right back.”

  There was something dangerous happening between them and there was no sense in denying it any longer. Despite the heat filtering through the small room, Erin hugged herself. Colin was a good man and certainly didn’t need the trouble that came with her. But not even her conscience could keep her body from craving his touch or her heart from wishing for more than she deserved. When he reappeared with a soft, thick blanket, she couldn’t stop the smile from curving her mouth. Grateful he was too busy setting the blanket by the fire to notice the way her eyes lingered on the muscular swell of his biceps, she allowed her gaze to roam. Shaking her head, she wondered if she truly were a glutton for punishment.

  “There.” Colin dusted his hands on his backside and looked to Erin. “That ought to keep our rears from going numb at least for a while.”

  Sensing he was waiting for her to make the first move, she nodded her agreement and sank down on the blanket. It was wonderfully soft and fleecy and as her fingers lightly skimmed the material her mind taunted her with images that were neither appropriate nor warranted under the situation. She ducked her head before Colin could see the burn in her cheeks.