Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good Man\Promises Under the Peach Tree\Husband by Choice (17 page)

Caleb whispered an obscenity.

“Caleb.” Reid hesitated. “I'm going to ask to see the files on all the boys here.” This time, he wasn't taking no for an answer. “I need their last names so that I can find out what's in their pasts.”

“You mean, like, if any of them have set fires before.”

“Right. Certain kinds of abuse make someone more likely to act out in specific ways, too. I'm telling you this in confidence. Asking you to keep it to yourself.”

“Oh, yeah,” the teenager scoffed. “Because telling everyone my brother is investigating them would make me most likely to be elected prom king.”

Reid had to laugh. “No, it probably wouldn't make you everyone's best friend.”

Caleb didn't look at him. “Are you going to start with TJ?”

“I will. The other thing I'm going to do is try to locate their parents or guardians. Are they where they should be? Or could one of them have found him?”

Caleb stopped dead. “But
how?
I mean, Dad found you. But if you hadn't come to Angel Butte...”

“I've been thinking about that. How many of these guys have stayed in touch with someone from home? Brother, sister, mom, girlfriend? Do any of them sneak out to meet someone?”

Caleb started walking again. Out of the corner of his eye, Reid watched him struggle with his conscience.

“Maybe,” he said at last. “But I think a couple of the guys might have met girls in town. You know? There isn't exactly a rule against it, even though Paula and Roger don't like it.”

Reid nodded. “I remember.” His second year here, he had gotten something going with a girl he'd thought was hot. For a couple of months, she sneaked out, he sneaked out, and he'd had sex for the first time. Inevitably, she got tired of the sneaking thing and found someone else. His heart hadn't been broken, but he'd really enjoyed the sex. “That's not what we're looking for,” he said. “It's someone from the past who could have let the wrong thing slip.”

His brother nodded his understanding.

“Do you think TJ is meeting someone?”

“I don't know. I haven't heard voices or anything like that.”

“All right. Don't try to follow him. He could be dangerous.”

Damn. When Caleb didn't say anything, Reid began to wish he hadn't asked that last question. Trailing TJ was exactly the kind of thing he'd have done in Caleb's place.

The lodge was in sight again. Reid clapped his brother on the back. “Time for you to get back and figure out problem fourteen.”

“Math sucks.”

“It wasn't my strong suit,” Reid admitted. “Until calculus. For some reason, I liked calculus.”

Caleb gave him an incredulous look.

Roger had returned and was putting away groceries when Reid and Caleb came in the back door. His gaze moved over the two of them, and his eyes warmed.

Reid squeezed his brother's shoulder even though such a simple act of intimacy felt uncomfortable to him, then watched him head back to the main room. Only when he knew he and Roger were alone did he say, “Can we talk?”

* * *

A
NNA
WASN
'
T
SURPRISED
when she didn't hear from Reid over the weekend. Their agreement to go skiing one more time had been forgotten, maybe just as well since the warming trend was turning the snow to mush. Despite the fact he'd asked for another chance—or
because
he'd been driven to ask for that chance—she had expected him to retreat. Truthfully, she wouldn't have been shocked if he never called again.

He was good at covering. Way better than the kids she dealt with on a day-to-day basis, but she still recognized more of his subterranean fears and motivations than he liked. They both knew that was partly what attracted him to her, but also what made him leery of feeling anything for her.

Had he seen how much they shared? That she had the same fears, that like him she was often driven by her past in illogical but emotionally rooted ways?

Probably. Anna admitted somewhat ruefully to herself she wasn't nearly as good at faking it as he was.

Monday morning she was on her way to visit foster homes in Klamath County when her phone rang. Seeing his number, she chose to pull over rather than put the phone on speaker.

“Reid,” she said cautiously.

“Hey. Any chance of having lunch? If not today, tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow would be better.” She told him where she was.

“Okay. I'm sorry we didn't make it out skiing.”

“No, that's okay. It's probably too late in the year anyway.”

“I see the girl's funeral is scheduled for Saturday. I was thinking I'd come,” he said.

Her heart skipped. Was he offering because he thought she might need him? “I was hoping there'd be a police presence,” she said, trying for calm.

“I think there will be. Having a local kid get killed hits everyone hard.”

“Yes.” Damn it, her eyes stung. “Thank you. I'd...like it if you were there.”

“Then I will be.”

They set a time for lunch tomorrow and he was gone. Anna sat for a minute, dealing with the heart-pounding effect of his promise before she could put her signal on and merge back into the traffic on the highway.

To her astonishment, that was the beginning of an amazing week with him. They had lunch twice and planned dinner for Friday night.

At Tuesday's lunch, he told her about the speeding ticket given to his father on top of the two for tailgating, and that Dean had taken off afterward, not to be seen again. Reid wasn't sure yet whether the man had gone home or only retreated to lick his wounds. She'd had to laugh at his grin when he had said that.

Thursday, she asked if he'd learned any more, and Reid said, “Yeah, I talked to one of Dad's cronies at the Spokane P.D. He's definitely home, back to work.”

“Poorer, too,” she said cheerfully.

He'd laughed again. “Yep. Close to seven hundred bucks poorer in traffic fines alone.”

“Do you think...well, that he's given up?”

The pleasure left his face. “I doubt it,” he said shortly. There was something grim in his voice that made her wonder what he feared. Was his father angry enough to want to hurt his own son? Anna couldn't help remembering when she'd asked Reid if Dean could be a threat to her, and the way he'd hesitated, then said, “Not to you.” Had there been an emphasis on that last word that implied he thought his father might...what? Attack him? That seemed crazy, but his expression didn't invite more questions.

Friday night, she cooked dinner for him. Neither of them had their minds on food. Leaving dirty dishes on the table, they barely made it upstairs before shedding their clothes and making love.

Reid let her explore his body, too, this time. She loved the contours of muscles laid over bone and reveled in the responses her stroking hands evoked. Every jerk he made, every groan and sucked-in breath, heightened her own arousal. In the end, he still took control and she knew he'd held back, but she was satisfied they were making progress. Satisfied in every other way, too, but then she had been the first time, however depressed she'd been to feel essentially alone in the storm of passion.

Reid didn't say much as they cuddled afterward, or when he got up, dressed and kissed her good-night, either. Anna had secretly hoped he would want to stay the night, but she knew she should have expected that was too big a commitment for him. His slightly brooding air as he departed left her wondering if he was unhappy about having surrendered as much of himself to her as he had.

It also made her wonder if he wouldn't make an excuse tomorrow not to show up at the funeral. Anna grimaced at the thought. She could hardly blame him if he did.
She
was dreading the darn thing. And, for him, it would be a commitment of another kind: appearing at her side in public and in a big way. People would have to know he was there only for her sake.

Once she thought of it that way...Anna resigned herself to going alone.

* * *

G
OD
,
HE
HATED
FUNERALS
. His mother's had been the start. Later, Reid had attended more than his share of them, first as a young officer who felt obligated to make an appearance after he'd scraped somebody off the pavement, then later when he made detective as part of investigations. Who showed up at a funeral could be telling, as could how everyone behaved once they were there.

This funeral was held in the New Hope Assembly of God, one of the largest churches in Angel Butte. Reid arrived before Anna.

As she'd warned him she might, she showed up in company with the foster parents, familiar to him from interviews on local television news. One look at their faces told him they were taking this as hard as any biological parents would. Parents wanted to believe it was possible to protect their children. Finding out, so harshly, that you couldn't...

Reid shook his head. Sometimes he wondered if his father would have grieved if he'd been killed in a car accident. Could a willingness to hurt your kid exist right along with the need to protect? Reid couldn't imagine.

Anna saw him and steered the older couple his way. The black suit she wore was formfitting enough to avoid being dowdy, especially with the addition of black high heels. Although he doubted that was her intention, black was a good color on her, with her honey-blond hair, pale skin and misty-gray eyes. He was disturbed at how aware he was of her lithe body inside that sedate suit.

At least he could be confident his expression didn't give away his thoughts. “Anna,” he said and kissed her cheek, seeing her startled glance and flush of color. “Mr. Lund. Mrs. Lund.” He shook hands with each in turn. “I'm Captain Reid Sawyer, Angel Butte P.D. You have my sympathy.”

The woman's eyes filled with fresh tears. “Thank you.”

Seeing that they were the focus of several television cameras, Reid moved to block the grieving couple from the cameras' eyes. Mrs. Lund's sister appeared and the two women hugged, then he got them all moving into the church.

Letting the others go ahead, Anna took his arm and leaned in so that no one else could hear her. “Tell me your father hasn't reappeared.”

He was able to shake his head. “Nope.”

“Thank goodness.”

He smiled at her vehemence, not letting her see the worry he was holding on to. Yes, Bob Sarringer had confirmed his buddy Dean was back at work. He'd even gone quiet for a minute, then said, “He was in a rage when I saw him. He said things—” There was another pause. Then, “Damn, I'm sorry, Reid.”

Reid had felt a burst of rage hard to quell. Sarringer was sorry
now?
He managed an insincere “Thank you” and learned that Dean normally had weekends off.

Which meant there was nothing to stop him from having clocked out yesterday then driving into the night to pull another ugly trick in Angel Butte. Just because Reid hadn't seen him yet today didn't mean he wasn't here in town again.

Reid had put out the word to patrol and plainclothes officers alike to watch for his father. He had felt less reticence this time. He'd been...touched, he guessed was the right word, by the enthusiasm with which his officers had originally taken on a job that, realistically, was a waste of police resources, not to mention the skill level of detectives. They'd made plain that while he might be new on the job, he was one of them. The attitude had played a part in the shift he'd felt just this week toward the move to Angel Butte and whether he saw a future here.

When he and Anna entered the church, he forced thoughts of his son of a bitch of a father and even the future from his mind.

Reid shortly found himself anchoring one side of the front pew, with Mr. Lund on the other and the three women between them.

Large as it was, the church filled up fast. A shiny pink casket sat front and center, almost buried in flower arrangements. The scent of the flowers was overpowering. Reid was grateful the lid was closed.

The service opened a floodgate of grief. A dozen members of the congregation spoke about Corinna Terrill. A church choir sang. The pastor talked about the open gates of heaven and about how she'd be there waiting for her loved ones.

By long practice, Reid had armored himself well. His armor had a fissure today, though: Anna. Most of the emotion here flowed over and around him, but he felt Anna's. She never broke into sobs; instead, she comforted the foster mother, who wept from beginning to end. But every so often Anna had to swipe at her own cheeks. Mascara he'd hardly been aware she wore flowed with the tears. Reid, who had come prepared, pressed tissues into her hand. She gave him an astonished look, then blotted the tears. Seeing the dark streaks that remained caused an unfamiliar ache in his chest. He waited until the service ended to surreptitiously spit on another tissue, hoping she didn't notice, and turn her face up to his to gently wipe it clean.

Anna's tremulous smile made the ache grow until it was all he could do not to rub at his breastbone in an effort to relieve it. She tipped her head against his shoulder, the merest touch, but more than enough thanks, then stood when the pastor came to comfort the grieving parents.

Reid stepped back, waiting until Anna was ready to go. He'd seen a number of police officers, city and county, all wearing uniforms, sitting near the back. His department was well represented without him. In fact, he'd seen surprise when his presence was noted. No wonder, when he was so new on the job and hadn't been involved in any way with the investigation into the cause of the accident. And yet here he was, sitting beside the grieving family.

All he knew was that Anna had wanted him here, and that even as she spoke to other people, her head turned frequently, as if she needed to know he was still there. Reid felt no impatience. None of his usual discomfort at the idea of being needed by another human being.