by Kimberly van Meter - A Sinclair Homecoming (The Sinclairs of Alaska)
“Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know what I want. I just know that I’m not doing any good here. He doesn’t want to work on the case with me and he’s so distracted with the business that he doesn’t have time for me on a personal level so why the hell am I staying?”
“What do you mean he doesn’t want to talk about the case?”
“He says he’s overwhelmed and just needs a break when he comes home, which I can understand, but sometimes I feel he doesn’t give sufficient weight to the fact that there’s someone out there trying to kill him.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think he’s trying to ignore that fact. I think he’s trying to keep a lot of balls up in the air and a few keep dropping. I feel bad for the guy, honestly.”
“Yeah?”
“I do. He’s trying to balance a new relationship in spite of a bunch of different and equally time-consuming situations. I think anyone would be overwhelmed.”
Jordana digested her brother’s comment, nodding. “Yeah, that makes sense, but even so, it does draw attention to the red flags that are waving all over the place.”
“Such as?”
“Such as, I don’t belong in his world. I don’t fit. I’m not ever going to be some society girl or a ‘lady who lunches’ and I don’t see myself joining the Chicago PD. I like the pace of Braxville and maybe that’s not ambitious enough for some people but I liked my job back home. Hell, I miss home. I miss my bed. I miss my judgy cat.”
“Ugh, that cat. He is judgy,” Ty agreed.
“But I don’t want to leave unless I know Ty is in good hands.”
“Do you want to leave Clint behind?”
“Not really,” she admitted with misery. “But I don’t think I can stay, either.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I stay, I’ll become more resentful and eventually it’ll just tear us apart. I’d rather leave before we hate each other.”
He chuckled. “Maybe it won’t come to that.”
“No, it will. I can’t stay,” she realized, her sinuses clogging with the sadness of that conclusion. “Maybe it’s true that if you truly love someone you have to let them go. Staying would be a disaster for us both.”
“I want you to be happy, sis. If you think leaving is the best for both of you, I know I won’t be able to change your mind. All I can do is promise that I’ll keep your man safe while you’re gone.”
Jordana wiped at her eyes. “Thank you.”
“When are you going to tell him?”
“Probably tonight, after I make my flight plans. I don’t want to give him the chance to change my mind.”
“For what it’s worth, I think he’s a good man. I like the way you light up around him. I’ve never seen you so happy...or so sad. I think it’s real between you.”
She smiled, appreciating her big brother’s support. “I think it’s real, too.”
But staying would be a mistake. As much as she loved Clint, she wasn’t doing him any good here and she was needed in Braxville.
Sometimes being an adult meant making hard choices.
Leaving Clint behind before she knew who was behind his attack was a thorn in her side but she knew she was leaving Clint in good hands.
Ty would do whatever was necessary to catch the person responsible.
She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation when she told Clint she was leaving.
Until then, she was happy to distract herself with a little old-fashioned investigative legwork.
Chapter 22
“I don’t want you to leave,” Clint said, facing off with Jordana, even as she stood with her bags packed and her Uber waiting downstairs. “C’mon, Jordana, talk to me. What’s this about?”
“It’s about me being in the wrong place for the wrong reasons,” she said, wiping at her eyes.
Clint was at a loss. One minute things were great and the next Jordana was bailing? “Is this about our argument the other night?”
“Yes, but no.”
“I should’ve apologized better. I knew you deserved a better apology but I got caught up in work—that’s no excuse, I’m sorry. I was rude and insensitive,” he said, trying to make things right.
But Jordana shook her head. “It’s not that. I’m not so petty as to decide this over one fight. The fight was just what opened my eyes to what is happening here. I’m dying not being able to be useful. I’m not the kind of person who can spend hours shopping and being frivolous with my time. I like to have a job. I’ll never have that here and it doesn’t matter how much I love you—”
His heart leaped at her admission. “You love me?”
She pressed her lips together as if pained, admitting, “Yes, I do. Maybe it’s crazy to fall for someone as quickly as I did but, Clint, I do love you, whether it was too fast or not. However, sometimes love just isn’t enough. You and I are old enough to know that it takes more than just feelings to make things work. The logistics between us are a nightmare.”
“I’ll fix it,” he promised. “Give me a chance to fix things.”
“It’s not something you can fix or you should fix. You belong here. I belong in Braxville. C’mon, we both knew that this was a fairy tale that wouldn’t have a happy ending. I should’ve listened to everyone who told me that it was a mistake to come here. I’m just coming to my senses and righting the ship.”
“So, I’m a mistake? Your feelings for me are a mistake?” he asked, stung.
Jordana looked exasperated and sad at the same time. “Of course not, but maybe a little? I’m sorry, I know I’m not making much sense. All I know is that I can’t stay but I’m leaving you in good hands. Ty will figure out who’s threatening you, and your life can get back to normal. I’m not a part of that normal life. If you stop to think about it, you know I’m right.”
“Bullshit, Jordana, you’re running away from your feelings because you’re not ready to admit that I’m the game-changer in your life. You don’t like surprises or things you can’t control. I’m sorry I threw your life into a tailspin but I’m not sorry for the way I feel—and you shouldn’t be, either.”
She didn’t argue his point. “My Uber is waiting. I have to go if I’m going to catch my flight.”
“Screw your Uber. You’re not leaving.”
“I am leaving,” Jordana said, grabbing her suitcase and carry-on. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“Please, don’t go.”
Tears welled in her eyes but she didn’t waver. “You’ll realize this is best when you’ve had some distance.”
“I love you, Jordana.”
“You’ll get over it,” Jordana said, her voice strangled. “Goodbye, Clint.”
And he watched her leave. His heart cracked in two but his feet remained rooted to the carpet. He should run after her, beg her to stay, but he couldn’t do it.
Wouldn’t do it.
If she wanted to go, he couldn’t tie her to a chair and make her stay.
Was it his pride? Maybe.
But maybe it was because he didn’t know how to convince her that he wanted her more than anything else if she didn’t already know it. Or deep down, he knew she was right at a certain level, in that place where he didn’t want to acknowledge or see.
Chicago wasn’t her town, wasn’t her vibe. He’d seen her slowly withdraw, and when she’d tried to reach out to him, he’d been too focused on work to make the effort.
Hell, maybe love wasn’t in the cards for him. If it wasn’t going to happen with Jordana, he didn’t want it with anyone else.
Clint cursed under his breath and wiped at the tears on his cheeks. Screw it, if she wants to leave, that’s her choice.
He had plenty to keep him busy.
Even though it hurt, Clint shoved Jordana from his mind.
He had bigger problems than his fractured love life.
Time to focus on what mattered.
* * *
Jordana cried the entire Uber ride to O’Hare. Barely managed to wipe her tears away long enough to board her flight and then quietly sobbed through most of the two-hour flight back to Kansas.
By the time she reached her house, it was late and she was emotionally exhausted.
Falling into her bed, she took comfort in the familiarity but then caught a lingering whiff of Clint in her bedding and she started crying all over again.
At some point, she fell asleep, but by morning, she felt run over by a truck. Still, routine offered some semblance of calm as she showered, dressed and headed to the station.
Reese looked up, surprised to see her.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You’re supposed to be in Chicago.”
“I’m back and ready to jump into my caseload,” she answered with false cheerfulness. “Turns out the Windy City wasn’t for me. I’m excited to get back to work. Any leads on the Fenton case?”
She didn’t want to talk about Clint or Chicago, a vibe that Reese caught right away and followed her lead for the time being. She was sure he’d have plenty of questions later but she appreciated the fact that he knew her well enough to leave it alone.
“Maybe. So forensics came back on both the bodies. They tested positive for chromated copper arsenic, an unusual chemical to be found on bodies that are twenty-plus years dead.”
“Arsenic of the deadly sort is found usually in soft tissue but there wasn’t any soft tissue left,” she said.
“Exactly. So that begs the question, why was it found on the bones?”
“Unless it was an environmental property within the surroundings where the victims were found,” she supposed.
“That’s what I was thinking. I did a little digging and it turns out that chromated copper arsenic is a pesticide/preservative used to prevent rotting in lumber that’s going to be used outside. CCA is usually found in pressure-treated wood.”
Jordana mused over the information, apprehension replacing her previous determination to focus on nothing but work. She had a bad feeling about this new development.
“Tell me more about CCA. Is this a normal building material?”
“Maybe back when the warehouse was built but not since the EPA put the kibosh on CCA-treated wood in 2003.” He looked to Jordana. “Do you know when that building was built? If it was built in the 1970s up until 2003, then it makes sense that it might have CCA-treated wood.”
“I don’t know when that building was built,” she murmured, worrying her bottom lip. “I could ask my dad. He should know.”
“Do you want me to ask him? Just to give you some separation from your family with the case.”
Her dad would not appreciate Reese poking around his business and it was not likely to end with her dad’s cooperation without a warrant. She sighed. “No, I’ll ask him. My dad can be difficult at times.”
She returned to the bodies. “Okay, let’s assume that the bodies were close to CCA-treated wood and that’s why the chemical compound showed up in the lab. It doesn’t give us much information on who killed them.”
“No, but most killers don’t leave calling cards,” Reese quipped.
Jordana allowed a short smile but she didn’t feel like joking around. Her heart was heavy and now her mind was cluttered. There was something about that CCA showing up that bothered her but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. “So CCA-treated wood was a commonly used building material until 2003?”
“From what I can tell.”
“So why’d the EPA ban the use of it after 2003?”
“It’s sick. Chromated copper arsenic, as it turns out, is dangerous to humans. Like, as in real bad. Of course, it took some people dropping like flies for the EPA to figure out that maybe humans shouldn’t be around that poison before they dropped the ban hammer. Hey, as we all know, government agencies run slow as molasses in winter.”
She agreed, still thinking. Did her dad know about the chromated copper arsenic in that warehouse? She couldn’t imagine that he had. Her dad liked to do things by the book. If he found out that the materials being used were harmful, he’d take care of it. Her dad was a lot of things but he wasn’t a monster.
“So, everything okay?” Reese asked, tentatively broaching the subject she wanted to avoid. “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”
“It just didn’t work out. Turns out I was more of a distraction than a help so my brother Ty is there running down leads and I came back here where I’m useful.”
“Oh, so everything’s cool with you and Broderick?”
“Um, I’d rather not talk about it, honestly. I just want to focus on work,” she answered, struggling to keep the tears at bay. Reese nodded, letting it go, and she was grateful. “Hey, so, does it matter when that warehouse was built? It’s not like chromated copper arsenic killed Fenton and the other victim, right?”
“Yeah, I guess not. I was just curious. Seemed an interesting find on the forensics.”
Jordana breathed a secret sigh of relief. She didn’t want to talk to her dad about the warehouse even though it was inevitable at some point. He owned the building where two bodies were found. She’d been the one to stop construction, which hadn’t been the greatest conversation she’d ever had with her dad.
And as long as the investigation was ongoing, she couldn’t let construction resume, which was putting a strain on her dad’s budget, but she didn’t have a choice. It was her job.
Now was a complicated time in her family’s life with Uncle Shep coming home and Bridgette back in town.
Honestly, sometimes she understood why her mother was always scrubbing the kitchen.
A clean kitchen was something she could control.
Maybe she ought to give her kitchen a good scrubbing.
Lord knows, she could use the outlet.
Chapter 23
Clint stared morosely into his Scotch, asking Ty, “Why’d she leave?” but he knew Ty didn’t have any answer that was different from the one Jordana had given any more than his fourth Scotch had the answer. “I don’t understand. We had something good and she just up and left me behind like I was nothing to her.”
Now he was repeating himself. He’d turned into the weepy kind of drunk he hated but his heart wouldn’t accept the truth as it stared him in the face. He wanted a different answer, something that made him feel better but there wasn’t anything that would make him feel any different and he knew it.
“I think you’ve had enough, buddy,” Ty said, signaling to the bartender for the tab, but Clint wasn’t ready to leave. He wanted to get hammered and forget that the woman he was crazy about had left him. But Ty wasn’t taking no for an answer. “You’ll thank me in the morning,” he promised, helping Clint off the stool. “Besides, no one needs to see you like this.”
Ty made a fair point. He was the boss. People depended on him. He signed the checks. Being sloppy drunk wasn’t a good look. If only his heart didn’t feel like it was being torn in two by dueling rottweilers.
“Fine, we’ll go but only if you promise to call Jordana for me and put in a good word. Maybe she’s not mad anymore,” he said, his mind swimming. “I mean, how long does your sister stay mad?”
“She didn’t leave because she was mad,” Ty said, maneuvering him out the pub door and into the awaiting Uber. He slid in beside Clint and shut the door. “She left because she wasn’t getting any traction here and you didn’t exactly help her feel like she was needed.”
“What are you talking about? I need her. I need her like nothing I’ve ever needed before in my life. Do you even know how hard it is for me to admit that?”
Ty chuckled. “Yeah, I can guess, but Jordana needs a job. She’s always been that way. Maybe this wa
s for the best.”
“Stop saying that,” he growled. “Does it look like it was for the best? Do I look like I’m at my best? You don’t even have to answer—I can tell by your face that I’m a mess. I know it, you don’t have to lie.”
“Okay, I won’t lie,” Ty said. “You are a mess but my sister’s not one to stick around to prop up broken men. Figure it out, man.”
“I didn’t say I was broken,” Clint muttered, drawing away only to smack his head on the glass by accident. He cursed loudly as he rubbed his forehead. “This car is too small. Why are we riding in a shoebox?” To the driver, he said, “No offense, my man, I’m sure it’s great,” and returning to Ty to whisper in a not so whispery voice, “Seriously though, what the hell? I have a car service with adult-size cars at my disposal. Why are we riding in a toy car?”
Ty laughed. “You are messed up. Shut up and enjoy the ride. You’re lucky I like you enough to get you safely home. I promised Jordana I’d look out for you but I’m not sure that extended to drunken binges after-hours.”
“I miss her,” Clint admitted in a sad voice. “I miss the smell of her hair, the taste—”
“Whoa, hold up, that’s my sister, remember? I’m going to try and pretend that I don’t know how close you two were, okay?”
“Right, right,” he said, apologizing. “I’ve never had a sister. Or a brother. My parents weren’t the prolific type. I’m not even sure how they made me. Separate beds my entire childhood,” he shared in a slurred whisper. “Never the two shall meet. Seriously, how’d they make a kid if they didn’t share a bed? It’s a mystery, right?”
Ty grinned because he was being an idiot but Clint didn’t care. He was sloppy drunk, no sense in denying it. But that’s what happened when you had to numb the pain of losing someone. “Tell me something about Jordana that I don’t know,” he said, almost desperate to hear anything about her.
