by Robin Perini
She looked from the warm gloves to his reserved stare. Tension emanated from him, his expression carved in stone, set and intent, and yet he focused on her comfort and warmth, his actions tender and caring.
He tried to release her, but she refused to let his hands go. She held fast and looked up at him. "I'm sorry about your deputy."
His eyes blazed with self-loathing. "I knew the horse was one tantrum away from killing someone else. Who else can I blame but myself? My choices. My fault. At some point, you have to take responsibility for your actions. My dad taught me that."
"You're not responsible for everything that happens in Carder. You can't protect everyone."
"I'm the sheriff. They count on me." Blake pried his hands away from her grip, and Amanda's heart sank. He didn't want her comfort--or her touch. He'd retreated into himself. As gentle as he'd been with her, he closed himself off to those same needs.
He pulled out the Glock, double-checked the safety and gave her two clips from the inside of his sheepskin jacket. She recognized the need to control, especially when their world had spun into chaos. He handed the weapon to her. "I hope you won't need this, but I'm not taking any more chances with you."
She pocketed the weapon and bullets just as Rich crossed the airport toward the hangar.
He tossed Blake the car keys. "You're all set. Sedan's behind the hangar. Logan says be quick. Chatter seems to be picking up."
Blake's expression grew even grimmer. "We'll be in touch."
"I'll monitor the police frequency. If it goes south, I'll have your back."
"Thank you," Amanda said.
Rich gave her a small nod and disappeared into the hangar again.
"You ready?" Blake clutched the keys.
"I have to be, don't I?" Amanda shoved her hand in her pocket and encountered the gun metal, squeezing it. She'd used the pistol once since finding Vince. She prayed they would succeed and the entire nightmare would end before she had to use it again. "We'll find something, right?"
"I hope so." With his hand firmly pressed against the small of her back, he escorted her to the nondescript sedan and opened the passenger door for her. "What's the least obvious way to get into Vince's place?" he asked as he slid behind the steering wheel and turned on the engine.
"Back door. If you pull down the alley behind the house, we can go in the gate. I doubt anyone would see us."
Blake set the car into gear, exited the airport and pulled into traffic, navigating with ease. Amanda watched his hands as they held the steering wheel with a firm grip. Strangely, despite everything that had happened, she felt safe here with him. She knew he'd give his life to protect her...and Ethan.
Why couldn't he let her into his heart so readily?
"We're at least an hour away," he said. "Think back on every conversation you had with Vince. Did he mention a file or papers, discs or photos? Anything that would point us in the direction of the evidence our perps want."
"Nothing obvious. After you left town, Vince pushed me away. Would barely talk about anything. We didn't really visit much because our schedules were so different. A few emails. That was it." Amanda rubbed her temple. "I wish I'd asked. Maybe I would've known something. Maybe--"
"Vince had a choice, and he put you in danger."
She wanted to defend her brother, but she recognized the stubborn set of Blake's jaw. He was so like Vince, although she doubted Blake would appreciate the comparison.
"What kind of email?"
She blinked at his sharp change of subjects. "Email?"
"The emails he sent you? What were they about? Especially the last one. Try to remember as much as you can, Amanda." Blake glanced at her, his voice urgent.
"Most were just chitchat. A few jokes like the old Vince would've sent. Except--" She paused as a flood of insight washed through her. Oh, God. She'd forgotten until now. "He updated his beneficiaries." Her words were hushed. "Right after Kathy and Joey's funeral."
The words settled in the truck like a heavy blanket of foreboding. Every argument Blake had made raced through her mind. She wished doubts of Vince weren't creeping in, but she couldn't stop them.
Still, he'd had reasons for everything he did, even if he'd been impulsive. She twisted toward Blake. "Vince sent us to you. Are you sure he didn't send you anything?"
"Not after our last...altercation." Blake gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white.
"You mean fight."
"My dad had just been killed, and I decided to give Vince one last chance. He'd been my partner, but I was out of time. Irving couldn't protect me any longer. The rest of IA was out for blood. Besides, no way could I stay in town and investigate with what my mom was going through." Blake vibrated with annoyance. "He ignored me. Just told me to leave it alone. Go back to Carder. Nothing I could do."
"Vince pushed you away. To keep you safe," Amanda argued. She could see the truth so clearly. Why couldn't he? "Just like he did for me."
"He was protecting himself," Blake said firmly. "I left. There was nothing in Austin to hold me, except nailing the traitors who framed me. My mom needed me. The town wanted me. And as Sheriff I'd have more resources I could trust to ferret out the truth."
Amanda fell back against her seat. "You've been investigating Vince since you left. Did he know?"
Blake shrugged as if it didn't matter. "He deposited money that couldn't be accounted for. He opened a separate account in another bank, in another town. I was close."
"You could have talked to him, asked him what was going on."
"Why would I confide in the man who forged my name in the evidence room when a stash of guns went missing? Besides, I had to be careful. They'd made me look more than guilty. I'm shocked they didn't throw me in jail. With the right prosecutor and judge, they would've been able to make it stick."
"Then why aren't you behind bars?"
"I've asked myself that same question more than once."
He turned down a quiet street, clearly wanting to stay off some of the main thoroughfares.
"You didn't go quietly."
"Hell, no. I was meeting with IA the morning--" His voice trailed off. "The morning my family died." Blake's knuckles went white on the steering wheel. "Damn them. They timed the accident that way. They killed Kathy and Joey to distract me, stop my questions."
Amanda shuddered, her mind whirling at the danger they faced. "They were innocent. Just like Ethan."
"Their plan succeeded." Blake's voice had gone low and cold, his fury punctuated in the bite of each word. "I was torn up. I let the investigation go. By the time I was myself again...they'd covered their tracks.
"Then Dad died. I left, but I knew Vince would tip his hand sooner or later. He could never bluff in poker either. Not for the entire game." Blake flicked on his blinker and eased the SUV into an exit lane. "Vince should've stood with me."
"I think he did. In his own way." Her idiot brother. Trying to protect everyone else. Never telling anyone what was going on. She gripped the denim of her jeans and worried the fabric. "What if you thought Vince was in real danger? What would you do?"
"Whatever it took."
"Vince was the same way, wasn't he?"
Blake didn't pause. "He was bullheaded. He'd grab hold of something like a rottweiler. Never let it go."
"And if you'd been convinced his family--me and Ethan--were in danger?"
"I'd have tried to get him out of the way while I..." Blake's voice trailed off. He shook his head. "Same logic works if I was hip-deep in corruption. Get the guy out of town who could bring me down."
"I can't believe you're calling Vince stubborn. Have you looked in the mirror? Everything is black and white with you, Blake."
"It has to be. Without certainty in right and wrong, it's too easy to take the wrong path. My dad taught me that, too."
"Then why aren't you turning me in for stealing that car?"
"Because right and the law don't seem to go hand and hand these days." Blake turned the
corner and closed in on Vince's street. "The alley behind the house?"
"Yes. Turn on the next block."
Blake ignored Amanda and drove toward the front door.
"Are you crazy? Someone might see us," she hissed.
"Get down," he said, removing his Stetson. Her head rested on his thigh, and he slowly drove past the front door of Vince's house. "No crime scene tape. No cars. Place looks deserted."
He rounded the corner, then eased the car into a tight alley. "You can get up now." He pulled to a stop. "I don't like it. No way out if they block us in," he said.
"No one knows we're here."
"You assume. That's a sure way to get us killed." He faced her. "Vince's house isn't that big. The place has probably been turned already. But Vince wasn't a fool. He would've hidden the evidence out of sight. We should start in your or Ethan's rooms. He'd want you to be able to find it."
"So we're looking for a folder?"
"Could be paper, but more likely a CD or memory card. Anything that might have information on it. He could've hidden it anywhere. Focus on things you or Ethan would've taken with you. Backs of pictures, toys, valuables. If I were keeping evidence, I'd have stashed it in a couple of places. For backup."
"Like at a lawyer's?"
"Or in a safety deposit box." He unclicked his seat belt and turned to her. "Look for a key, too. Grab his address book if you can."
Blake put the vehicle in park and glanced around the quiet alley. "I don't like it, but better leaving it here than on the street to attract even more attention."
She reached for the door, but he placed his hand over her arm. "Wait."
He stepped out of the car and looked around, then motioned for her to follow. She exited the vehicle and stood by his side, staring at the six-foot cinder-block wall. She couldn't believe she was actually breaking in to her own brother's house.
She started toward the gate, but he held her back. "Too obvious. They may have it wired. We go over the wall."
Blake hoisted himself up with ease. He scanned the backyard for at least a minute through the branches of a large tree. "Looks clear." He dropped to the ground and cupped his hands. Amanda stepped into his grip, and in one quick movement she grasped the wall with her arms, ignoring the twinge on her side. She hooked her leg over and maneuvered to the top.
She'd never viewed the backyard from this angle. Ethan's baseball and bat lay in the lawn. His glove should've been nearby. She'd begged Vince to play outside with Ethan more often. She sighed. She understood now why he hadn't.
Blake's admonishments filtered through her mind. Why hadn't Vince sent them away? Why had he kept them close?
She knew the answer. All too well. He hadn't wanted to be just like their parents. There, but not there.
She shifted, getting ready to drop to the ground.
"Wait for me," Blake called.
He vaulted onto the wall and sat beside her. "We take this slow and easy. We'll have to break in, unless you have a key. Is there an alarm?"
"It wasn't armed when I left. And there's a key under the planter. Vince stowed it there when I locked myself out one night after a late shift."
"One less thing to worry about."
He jumped down to the yard, his boots sinking into the ice-covered grass, turned and held his arms up to Amanda. She slid down the rough cinder-block, sliding down his body, her breasts pressing against his chest. Her breath caught and she looked into his eyes. They warmed slightly before the heat melted away. He set her aside.
"Just because we haven't seen anyone doesn't mean they're not checking out the place. I'm going in first. Don't follow until I motion to you. If something happens, get back to the plane. Logan will help you and Ethan disappear."
Blake pulled out his weapon. Amanda tensed as he ran across the lawn, half expecting a gunshot to come from nowhere. Once he'd navigated the backyard, he retrieved the key, unlocked the door, and after a few cautious seconds disappeared inside.
Her heart beat fast, worry for Blake contracting every muscle. She didn't know how long she waited. Every second felt like an hour. She shivered and rubbed her arms as the cold seeped in. The sun wasn't as intense here, and the coat didn't keep out the cold. Where was he? Had someone been in the house? What if something had happened to him? They never should've come here. Never should've tried to fight the inevitable.
Suddenly, Blake's broad shoulders stepped onto the patio. He raced back to her. "Come with me," he said.
He placed himself between her and the side of the wall unprotected by trees and held out his hand. She grasped him, his touch warming her from the inside. Together, they raced to the house and plunged inside.
She gasped at the mess. The kitchen had been ransacked. Plates broken. Every container upended. Every cupboard open.
"Why?"
"They don't know what they're looking for, either," Blake said.
"They trashed the entire house? Even Ethan's room?"
"Not much to salvage. I'm sorry."
Blake rubbed her back in comfort, even as her heart broke. Not a drawer left untouched.
"It'll take too long to find anything," she said softly. "We won't have room to take much anyway."
"After we nail these guys, you'll have time."
Blake crossed his arms, his stance positive and unwavering. She couldn't help but admire his confidence, standing in the midst of a battle scene. She didn't see the hope. She saw destruction and anger that she had to protect Ethan from.
"So, they pretty much rifled through the obvious. If they'd found it, I don't think they'd ever have come to Carder."
"Unless they found something pointing to you," Amanda said.
"Good thought. Except Vince didn't send me anything." Blake paused and scratched his chin. "So now, we search the unobvious."
Amanda stepped from the kitchen into the dining room and couldn't keep the dismayed gasp from escaping. The few things she'd been able to keep of her mother's--a tea set, a picture frame, a small wooden box of keepsakes--were all smashed on the floor.
She clutched at her chest. She couldn't bring up one memory of her and her mother together, but Amanda had always dreamed. One day, she'd have had a place where that tea set, that picture frame would be safe, secure, at home.
"Gone. It's all gone."
Her emotions overwhelmed, she turned away from the destruction, only to land in Blake's arms. He wrapped her tight and stroked the back of her head. He said nothing, but the hard muscles of his chest, the strength of his arms comforted her. She wouldn't let herself cry. She couldn't afford the indulgence of emotions. She pushed him away.
"I'm fine." She walked past Vince's office, where she'd found him, and paused, her body tensing, afraid to see the empty shell that was her brother yet again.
She took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold.
"He's not there," Blake said. "No blood that I could see. They may have left traces, but they cleaned up."
"Vince wouldn't have left anything in his office," she said. "He hardly ever went in there."
"Where did he spend most of his time?"
"With Ethan. If he got home early enough, he'd tell Ethan stories. Ethan would smile and say they talked about guy stuff."
"Then we try Ethan's room."
They trudged up the stairs and pushed open his room. The destruction was less. Even some of Ethan's toys were untouched.
"Odd," Blake said.
"I'm just thankful," Amanda countered. She walked in and sat on the bed. "Maybe I can find a toy or two so Ethan won't be so--"
Her voice trailed off, and she sniffed in the air. "Do you smell something?"
Blake paused. They looked at each other.
"Gas." He grabbed Amanda's hand. "We've got to get out of here."
They ran down the stairway. The moment they hit the first floor, the odor became overwhelming.
"Not the kitchen," Blake choked.
They raced out the front door. Cold, fresh air slappe
d Amanda's face. She bent over, dizzy, sucking in deep breaths.
"Freeze!"
Blake straightened. A man in a cop's uniform faced them, his gun drawn, his face tense. Blake stepped in front of Amanda. "Glenn?"
The man lowered his weapon slightly, then raised it. "Blake Redmond? What are you doing here?"
A loud boom rocked Amanda on her feet. A blast of hot air hit and knocked her to her knees.
* * *
FIERY DEBRIS POUNDED across Blake's back. He stumbled forward. With horror, he watched a burning projectile hit Amanda on her shoulder. She dropped down.
"Amanda!"
He covered her with his body as raining fire pummeled him. He chanced a glance at what was left of Vince's house. If there'd been any evidence in there, it was gone.
Glenn stumbled to his feet, his face streaked with black. "Vince!" he cried and ran toward the house. Blake grabbed the man. "Vince's body isn't inside, man."
"He was scheduled to work today, then I heard the call come in from a neighbor about prowlers..." Glenn's voice trailed off, his gaze suspicious. "Body? What are you talking about?"
"Sorry, I can't talk about it. Not yet."
Glenn reached for his cuffs. "Then I'm taking you in. You and your girlfriend."
Amanda groaned and rolled to her feet. "It's me, Glenn." She coughed, as black smoke rose from the burning embers behind them. Her eyes streamed. "Blake's telling the truth. Vince is dead." She grabbed Glenn's arm. "Please, just let us go."
A movement caught Blake's eye. He glimpsed a man in a hoodie running from the alley.
Blake looked at Glenn. "Sorry, bud, I'll explain later." He slugged the man beneath the jaw, and Glenn sank to the ground, out cold. Blake took off after the suspect, but a car peeled out. Blake slowed down and cursed. He turned around and stared at Amanda, kneeling next to the cop who was a good guy but in the wrong place at the wrong time.
