by Nora Roberts
“Then who?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not going to stop till I do. Whoever it was killed on my land, and I see that as a threat to the woman I love, the woman I want to spend my life with, build a family with. I won’t stop until I know.”
Straightening, he looked down at Jed with a mixture of revulsion and pity. “I didn’t do this, I didn’t cause this. You come at me again, it’ll go worse for you than me. You so much as look at my woman, at any of my family, it’ll go worse for you. You do anything to trouble Traci or her family, it’ll go worse for you. You hearing me?”
“My brother’s dead.”
“That’s a fact. You getting your ass kicked and having it end up behind bars—and I’ll make sure both happen—won’t change that. Now get up, get off my land. Don’t come back here.”
Saying nothing, Darby got back in her truck, pulled it to the side, and got out again to wait until Jed managed to get to his feet.
He didn’t so much as glance toward her as he drove past.
Zane swiped the back of his hand over the blood on his face, tried a smile. “So. How was your day?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Once inside, Darby ordered Zane to sit at the kitchen counter, got him an ice pack and a beer.
“Best girl ever,” Zane decided, winced a little at the first sip of beer.
“I’ll get what we need to clean you up. God, Walker, you’re a mess.”
“Hey, did you see the other guy?”
“I did. We’ll talk. Sit.” She got a beer for herself, and went to get the supplies.
Zane glanced down at the dog currently looking up at him with eyes all but dripping love and concern. “Not that bad, right?”
But when he shifted the ice pack to his left eye, he hissed.
“You forget how much it hurts. Shit, shit. I’ve got court in the morning. Oh, it’s nothing, Your Honor. Just got in a fistfight with the brother of the guy killed on my property. No big deal.”
He thought: Fuck, and took another sip of beer.
“I have court in the morning,” he told Darby when she came back in.
She set down the first aid supplies, walked to the sink to run cold water over a cloth. “Truth or lie?” she wondered.
“I’m a lawyer, I can do both at the same time. It’s not that bad, right?”
“You’re going to have a black eye—left side. He didn’t land any on the right. I can butterfly the cut over the bad eye. Your jaw’s bruised and scraped up, same side—you need to work on the left guard. Cheekbone, left, that’s cut up some. I can butterfly that, too, but you might need some X-rays.”
“Nothing’s broken. I know what it feels like.”
Because she did, too, she nodded. “Any blurred vision, nausea?”
“No.”
Face impassive, she turned back. “Strip off the shirt. Let’s see the rest of you.”
He started to, hissed again. “O … kay. He got some past me.”
“More than some. You didn’t mean it, at first.”
He let her help peel him out of the shirt. “His brother’s dead.”
“And you holding back doesn’t change that. He did a little number on your ribs.”
Zane took her hand before she could test for breaks. “You pissed at me?”
“No, why would I be?”
He skimmed a finger down her cheek. “You look pissed.”
“I am pissed, but not at you. I’m pissed you had to come home to that, that I did, that you had to fight off some idiot I’ve never even met. Hold the ice on the ribs while I feed the dog.”
She poured food for Zod to pounce on, opened the kitchen doors so he could go out as he pleased. “You didn’t want me to call Lee because you didn’t want him—what was his name? Jed? You didn’t want him to pay for it. You didn’t end it sooner, and you could have, because you wanted to let him get a few in. You didn’t stop holding back until he made that stupid crack about me.”
“You’re not wrong.”
She turned to him, her face a study of fury and sorrow. “It wasn’t our fault, Zane.”
“Darlin’, I know that. I don’t even think he much liked Clint, but blood’s blood. He didn’t come here with a gun. I figure he wanted to beat a confession out of me, and instead, I have to figure he left knowing I didn’t kill his brother.”
“If it comes to anything like that again, don’t you hold back.”
“Probably won’t.” Gently, he wiggled his jaw. “Especially if I have court in the morning.”
It annoyed the hell out of her that she admired how he handled it. She wrung out the wet cloth in a bowl.
“Let me deal with that face of yours.”
She had a good touch, he thought, gentle but not hesitant. And she didn’t get all pale and weird when she squeezed blood out of the cloth.
He watched her eyes as she cleaned him up, those deep, dark blue eyes. She smelled of the earth and growing things.
“I guess I forgot to use my filter,” he began, “when I said that stuff about the rest of my life, and building a family and all.”
“Mmm. Gonna sting,” she warned when she picked up the antiseptic.
He let out a stream of curses as she applied it to various cuts and scrapes. “Why is the cure nearly as painful as the cause?”
“Maybe to remind us to stay out of fights. Is that a legal term?” Carefully she fixed the butterfly bandage to close the cut over his left eye. “The filter?”
“I planned—as far as I planned—to give you more time before bringing up lifetime commitments, marriage, kids. Blame it on the heat of the moment.”
“Okay.” When she picked up another bandage, he took her hand again.
“Do you want kids down the road, Darby? Marriage, building a life with me?”
She just rested her brow against his. “Marriage still catches in my throat, but I want kids, and I feel like we’re starting to build a life.”
“Marriage is just a contract.”
She eased back, met his eyes. “No, it’s not.”
“No, it’s not. I can put the filter back on till you’re ready.”
“We’re good, right, even with all this?”
“We’re more than good from where I’m sitting.”
She bent forward, touched her lips to the cuts and bruises on his face.
“I wondered if you’d get around to that.”
“I had to work through being mad first. Not at you. I mean that. Did you box in college?”
“Some. The elbow thing’s a problem.”
She went to dump the bloody water. “I might be able to show you some moves to help you compensate for that.”
“Aren’t you handy?”
“In all things. Zane, you have to tell Lee. I’m not saying to press charges, or have him confront this guy, but he needs to know.”
“I know it.” And was already working out just how to approach it. “I don’t have to like it, but I know it.”
“Anybody who sees your face is going to know you were in a fight anyway.” She got him three ibuprofen, a glass of water. “So tell him, get it over with. Then we’ll have some pulled pork barbecue and another beer.”
“You know you don’t give me a choice but to be crazy in love with you.”
“I’m a hell of a catch. You call him, talk it through. I’ll get dinner warmed back up.”
Calling Lee—and he should’ve known—meant Lee insisted on coming over to see Zane for himself. Which meant Emily and the kids came, too.
Then because Emily insisted on telling Britt, that brought the rest of them. At least Silas and Britt picked up a bunch more pork and sides.
So a violent confrontation morphed into an impromptu family gathering. Darby watched Audra kiss Zane’s “hurts” much as she had, and cuddle against him to comfort.
She supposed she’d missed out on big, impromptu family gatherings, being the only child of a single parent. She decided being a part of them now landed on the plus s
ide of living with Zane.
Even when Britt used the excuse of a gardening question to lure her away from the others and around to the front of the house.
“I just want to ask how you’re feeling, if you’re all right.”
“Zane’s the one who got punched.”
“I know your history, and I know you’ve been through three violent experiences in the last few months. If you need to talk—as friends, just friends—I’m here.”
“Then I’ll be honest with you. Part of me hit panic, hit shaky when I drove up on Zane and the latest Draper problem. I had to push that back because it doesn’t help. But the rest of me? The rest of me was impressed, because Zane, despite how he looks right now, had it under control.”
She looked down at the lake, going soft in the quieting light. “I know how to take care of myself, and that’s important to me. Now I know Zane can take care of himself, and me if he needs to.”
“Yes,” Britt agreed. “We grew up in a terrible place, but I always knew he’d look out for me. So I know exactly what you mean. But if the shaky comes back, you call me.”
“I’m really hoping this is the end of this cycle of crazy.” She tapped the tattoo on the back of her neck. “It’s really time for the calm and easy to balance it out.”
While Darby talked to Britt around front, Zane signaled Brody, slipped off with him and the dog for cover into the woods.
“Real quick, I want your go-ahead to share what you told me with Darby.”
“Oh, hey, I don’t—”
“Hear me out. Say you’re right, and we’ve got a bad guy. She lives here, too. And more, I really want her take on it. If I tell her in confidence, she’ll keep that confidence.”
“She has to swear.”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay. But nobody else.”
“Nobody else. I’ve got a line on his full name—without telling anybody else.”
“You do?”
The kid’s instant admiration gave Zane a lift. “Yeah, and I’m going to check it out after everybody goes home. I can’t promise anything, Brody, but I’ve got a place to start. Now think about this. If I find anything illegal, or really off, we need to tell your dad.”
At that, Brody gave a decisive nod. “If you find proof, we talk to Dad.”
“Good enough.” They shared a fist bump.
“Can you show me where Clint Draper got killed?”
“No.”
“Aw, man.” Brody kicked the dirt. “How about you show me how you knocked his brother on his butt, and made him stay down.”
Zane faked a punch, then caught Brody in a headlock. “We’re going back.”
* * *
He nearly put off filling in Darby, as his family didn’t leave until after nine. But since he wanted to start his search, he thought it best to get that take of hers.
He ran a hand down her short cap of hair as they sat another moment in the glow of the garden lights.
“I have a client who’s given me permission to share some information with you on the condition of treating said information as privileged and confidential.”
“Why would one of your clients…” She trailed off as he gave her that “just go with me” look. “Fine. I can keep my mouth shut.”
“The client requires you swear to same.”
“Your client—whoever it may be—has my solemn word to keep my mouth shut on this matter. What’s up?”
“I’ll tell you, but let’s walk around some. I’m going to stiffen up if I sit too long.”
“You’re going to stiffen up overnight, but good idea.”
The moon, little more than a thumbnail, curved its thin crescent in clear, star-drenched skies. The dog trotted along with them, pausing occasionally to leap at the wink of fireflies.
The night-blooming jasmine Darby had spotlighted drenched the air with scent.
And with all that calm, that lazy summer easy, Zane brought the strange.
She interrupted a few times, for clarification, to question.
When he’d finished, they’d circled to the front of the house and took seats on the veranda, watched that sliver of moon swim on the lake.
“I’d say that’s a boy with good instincts,” Darby concluded. “Because there’s a lot there that doesn’t add up. A single book? No way given what he claims to do for a living, what he says he’s come here to do. But maybe Brody just missed the e-reader.”
“Possible,” Zane agreed.
“Or he could read on his laptop, but it’s hard to believe a college English professor has one lonely paperback for an extended stay.”
“Agreed.”
“It’s also possible he’s just a jerk about recycling and got a good deal on a rental Prius. You can always work things around to another angle, right?”
“You not only can,” Zane said, “but some of us make our living doing just that.”
“Still … You’re an English professor, so you’ve spent a good chunk of your life studying and teaching literature. You couldn’t possibly blank on John Steinbeck. Popular fiction? Maybe he’s a book snob, but why not just ask, Who’s Virgil Flowers?
“And when you put it all together,” Darby concluded, “it feels off. What’s your next move?”
“It turns out Gretchen ran into him on the street. In my clever, lawyerly way, I got a name. Or names. She thinks Blake, Drake, or Deke Bingley. So since I don’t know where up north, or what university or college he claims to be a part of, I start with that.”
“That’ll take the rest of your life. Hold on.”
She got out her phone, held up a finger before he could object. “Hey, Emily, sorry. I forgot with Zane going ten rounds I was going to send a couple of the crew to do a little maintenance on the bungalows. I thought we’d start with five, then spread out from there. Is anyone in five?”
Darby made uh-huh noises. “We’ll make sure we start midmorning then. Unless he’s checking out soon. No? Oh really. Another Yankee? Where’s he from?”
She sent Zane a smug smile. “New York City. Well, we’ll make sure we don’t disturb him. Yeah, I’ll make sure he ices down again before we go to bed. I can do that, sure. See you tomorrow then.”
She clicked off. “She called him Mr. Bingley, and it would’ve seemed weird if I’d asked for a first name. But she said he was working on a novel, and came from New York City.”
“That’s helpful. You’re good at that.”
“I’m going to have to send crew over there—and I’m going to have to go by reception and show her again what are actual weeds in the rock garden—but it’s part of the service.”
She got to her feet, held out a hand. “Come on, let’s get you another round of ice and you can get started. And I can get to my really delayed shower before I take care of some paperwork.”
He needed a shower, too, but unfortunately not a fun one.
By the time he’d finished, and Darby used another spare bedroom to deal with her paperwork, he was more than ready for the ice, more ibuprofen. And the option to work in bed on his laptop.
She glanced in an hour later—no doubt, he thought, checking on him.
“How’s it going?”
“Slow.” He raked a hand through his hair. “There are well over a hundred colleges and universities in New York.”
“You had to figure.”
“Even eliminating specialties—dance, medicine, fashion, law, like that—there’s a lot. And also considering he may have inflated the ‘professor,’ it’s best to check all the staff. So far, I haven’t come up with Blake, Drake, or Deke Bingley listed. But I’ve got plenty more to check.”
Because he could feel himself stiffening, he got up—and boy he felt that—tried to walk and stretch it out. “It’d go a hell of a lot faster if I had an investigator on this, even a law clerk.”
“I don’t qualify for either of those, but I can take some. I’m caught up. And I’m invested. I kind of want to prove the kid right. Which is weird.”
“It is weird. Weirder because so do I. But you’ll be getting up in … six and a half hours.”
“I’m getting up then anyway. Half an hour. Same for you, Walker.” She smoothed a hand over the hair he’d disordered. “You’re more worn-out than you think.”
“I think I’m pretty worn-out,” he admitted. “Half an hour.”
At the end of thirty, it was Darby who called it because he really did look beat. And Zane who volunteered to let the dog out one last time because he needed to move.
When he got back, and Zod took his latest sock to bed, she was already out for the count.
Zane got in beside her, breathed out against the aches and twinges. Then took her hand, pressed it to his cheek.
“Don’t make me wait too long to take that filter off, darlin’.”
* * *
While Zane fell into a fitful sleep, the man who went by Bingley sipped his single malt, paced the cabin.
He didn’t like the way that brat had looked at him. It had nagged at him all day, enough that he’d driven past where he knew the little fucker lived, hoping to catch him outside.
Lure him over to the car, take care of him.
But he hadn’t seen him—which, he admitted now, had been for the best.
Another body in the lake? Wouldn’t be good. Even adding on a missing kid? Too much attention.
He’d already stayed longer than he should have, he saw that now. He’d let the pleasure of building up to that ultimate goal keep him in this hick town. Not even in the hick town, for God’s sake.
He was living in the freaking woods.
Done with it, he thought. Checkout time.
Once he’d done what he’d come to do, he’d get in that ridiculous tree-hugger car and be hundreds of miles away before anybody knew the difference.
Dump the car in long-term parking at the airport, where he’d parked his real car. Wait until dark, slip on home, cut the hair, shave the beard.
