In Shelter Cove (6 page)

“A few days, maybe a week.” His gaze dropped to
the puppy in her arms. “He looks like Buster, Derek’s old dog.”

“I’m sure that was the intention. The Kanes got him for Lucas at Derek’s request. I’d better get back. Lucas is asleep in the house.”

“Hang on.” He opened the door to the house and thrust Princess inside. “I’ll go with you. The cat might be in your yard.”

Brianna walked down the path between their houses, keeping an eye out for the cat, but a large shadow by the front windows of her house gave her pause. She stopped so abruptly Jason bumped into her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She took another step forward, knocking into the trash can, and the shadow moved through the trees. “I think someone is in my yard,” she said in shock.

“Stay here.” Jason moved past her quietly, quickly.

She hesitated for a moment, but the idea of Lucas being alone in the house propelled her forward. Jason met her on the lawn. “I don’t see anyone. It was probably just the wind moving the trees.”

She cast a quick look around. Maybe he was right. There were tall trees on both sides of the property, and it was pretty dark, the nearest streetlight three houses away. “I need to check on Lucas.”

“Did you come out the back door?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll walk around with you.”

Her back door was open the way she’d left it. She
hurried inside to check on Lucas. He was still asleep. As she came out of the room, she saw Jason checking her bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

“Just looking around. Everything seems to be fine.”

“It was probably just my imagination.”

“More than likely. It looks like you have a lot of unpacking to do.”

“Tell me about it.” She walked into the kitchen and put the puppy in his crate. He immediately started barking. “He really doesn’t like that thing.”

“I can’t say that I blame him.” Jason slid onto a bar stool, making himself a little too comfortable. Then again, it was nice not to be alone in the house. She didn’t know why she was so jumpy. It had to be the new house, the new town. She just needed to get her bearings.

She refilled the teakettle and turned on the burner. “Tell me again, who lives next door?”

“Shirley Pease owns the house, but she had a stroke a few weeks ago, and her daughter, Patty, is moving in—if she doesn’t rope my father into marriage before that,” he grumbled.

“Is that a possibility?” She really shouldn’t have been encouraging conversation, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“Absolutely. Patty is an ex-stripper, which doesn’t bother my father at all. She has certain noticeable attributes, if you know what I mean.”

“Got it.”

“My father is a trusting romantic who always thinks he’s about to embark on the greatest love of all time—up until the moment he ends up in divorce court. He’s been married three times already.”

“What number was your mother?”

A dark shadow passed through his eyes. “She wasn’t a divorce. She died when I was seven.”

“Oh—I’m sorry.” It felt strange to say those words to Jason, even stranger to feel anything but hate for the man. She didn’t want to see any other side to him than the one he’d shown the day he testified against Derek.

Unfortunately, Jason didn’t look like that cold, ruthless cop now, with his wavy, mussed-up hair and bare feet. He looked like the guy she’d first met in the bar five years ago, the one who’d shamelessly flirted with her until he’d realized she was taken.

She needed to tell him to go. Why wouldn’t the words come?

“Feel like making me a cup of tea?” he asked as the kettle began to sing.

She hesitated, then grabbed another mug.

He met her gaze as she slid it across the counter. A sharp gleam entered his eyes. “You must be spooked to let me stay. Is there a reason?”

She shrugged, not wanting to get into a discussion about her motives. “So you said your father remarried a couple of times?”

“You’re not going to answer my question, are you?”

“
Are you going to answer mine?” she countered.

“All right. The first couple of years after my mom died, my father was destroyed. He couldn’t get out of bed in the morning, and when he did get up, he drank too much. He lost his construction business and the house he’d bought with my mother. We would have ended up on the streets if my uncle hadn’t shown up and dragged us here to Angel’s Bay. My dad got better eventually, recovered his desire to be married, and has since tied the knot a couple of times. Even though he’s devastated with each failure, he keeps going back for more pain. I suspect he’s headed for his fourth trip down the aisle as we speak.”

“Maybe this one will work.”

“That’s what he said. He’s always optimistic. I’ll give him that.”

“He doesn’t sound at all like you.” She lifted her mug to her lips as she leaned against the counter.

“We’re very different,” Jason agreed. “It was just the two of us for a while, and someone had to be practical. It wasn’t going to be him, so if I wanted to eat, I had to look out for both of us.”

“You don’t have any other siblings?”

“Nope. Only child. You, too, right?”

“Yes,” she said without elaborating.

For a moment there was nothing but quiet in the room. Even the puppy had fallen into an exhausted sleep.

“So what have you been doing the last five years?” Jason asked.

“
Surviving,” she said shortly.

“Are you sure coming back here was a good idea? Angel’s Bay can’t hold many happy memories for you.”

“It’s where the Kanes are.”

“What about your parents?”

She cleared her throat. “They’re not part of my life anymore.” He stared back at her, a myriad of questions running through his eyes, none of which she wanted to answer. “But I didn’t just come to Angel’s Bay for the Kanes—I came for the truth. I won’t find it anywhere else.” She paused. “And I think it’s time for you to leave.”

He met her gaze head-on. “Is it really that simple to blame me for everything?”

His words hung in the air for a long moment. “It was simpler when you weren’t standing in front of me,” she admitted.

He drew in a quick breath at her words. “That’s a start.”

She immediately shook her head. “No. I might be willing to concede that you were part of a larger investigation, but you led the charge, Jason. You took the stand and testified against Derek. You were the last one to speak before the verdict came in. Besides all that, you were his friend. Your betrayal hurt him and the Kanes beyond measure. The relationship you had with them should have mattered. You should have tried to help Derek fight the charges. Instead, you went after him.”

He paled at her harsh words. “I had to do my job, Brianna. If I could have taken myself off the case, I would have. But this is a small town with a small police department, and I saw Derek on the museum grounds. I talked to him minutes after the guard was assaulted. I was subpoenaed to testify. I had no choice but to tell the truth.”

“You shaped the truth to fit the case. You were a young cop, and you needed to prove yourself. You used Derek to do that.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“He didn’t have to tell me. I was there.”

“You heard only one side.”

“And you saw only one side, the side that sent Derek to jail. What was a job to you was the end of my dreams.”

“Derek is the one who destroyed your dreams—why don’t you blame him?” he challenged.

“Because . . . because he’s
dead.”

All the emotions of the past few years assaulted her at once. She’d been trying to hold it together for Lucas and the Kanes, but she couldn’t do it anymore. The room began to spin, and the mug slipped from her hand, hot liquid splashing her fingers. She was almost glad for the physical pain; at least it would pass. It was something she could make better.

Jason grabbed her arms and pulled her up against his solid chest. His body was warm, his embrace secure, comforting. She hadn’t had anyone to lean on in a very long time. She’d been holding herself up for
so long, and she was so tired. But she had to fight the temptation to linger. Jason was the wrong man to rely on.

She pushed him away and staggered to the kitchen table, sitting down quickly. Drawing in several deep breaths, she forced herself not to look at him, even though she was acutely aware of his gaze.

“Please go,” she said, staring at the tabletop.

“Are you all right?”

She had no idea how to answer that question. Finally, she lifted her gaze to his. “I will be.”

Clearly concerned, he said, “I’m sorry, Brianna. I know it’s been a rough day. I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

“It’s been a rough five years.”

“I wish you could see that I’m not your enemy.”

“I wish you could see that it doesn’t matter to me
what
you are.”

His lips tightened. “Okay. Make sure you lock the door behind me.”

After he left, she let out a breath, completely drained by the encounter. She got up and slid home the dead bolt on the back door. The puppy barked, drawing her attention back to him. He’d woken up and looked ready to play again.

She knelt down on the floor next to the crate. “This was your fault. Jason never would have been here if it hadn’t been for you charging into the yard next door.” He barked in reply, his adorable face too sweet to bear. “Okay, not completely your fault, but we need to stay away from him.” She didn’t want
Jason to try to convince her that Derek was guilty. She didn’t want him to confuse her. She
had
to believe she was right about Derek, and tomorrow she would start figuring out a way to prove it.

“Without any new evidence, I have no reason to reopen the case,” Joe Silveira told Brianna late Tuesday morning. He’d listened patiently to her impassioned declaration that her husband had been set up for a crime he hadn’t committed, but she hadn’t told him anything he didn’t already know.

“The stolen paintings were not found in Derek’s possession,” she persisted. “The police searched his apartment and mine, the Kanes’ house, and the gallery where Derek worked in L.A. He didn’t have them.”

“He could have handed them off,” Joe suggested. “But this case wasn’t just about stolen art. A security guard was assaulted and injured. You know that.”

“I also know that Derek swore he was innocent. Not once in five years did he waver from that position.” She paused for a moment. “My husband was killed in a prison fight three weeks before he was supposed to be released. Everyone says it was an accident, but I’m not completely convinced.”

Joe had found the timing interesting as well. “Why would you have doubts?”

“Because Derek was a model prisoner. He didn’t fight. He got along with the other prisoners. And he was looking forward to his release date.”

“It’s my understanding he didn’t instigate the
fight but was provoked. In the process, he slipped and hit his head on the concrete, suffering a fatal blow.” Brianna flinched, and he wished he’d chosen his words better. “It was ruled an accident.”

“I know, but I wonder if someone didn’t
want
him to get out.”

“Why?”

“Maybe Derek had something on someone else, information he could use when he was released. I just want someone to take an objective look at the case. It’s been five years. A new perspective might bring a new conclusion.”

He appreciated her determination. He even found himself wanting to help her—not because he was under the impression that her husband had been wrongly convicted but because she was willing to fight so hard for the man she’d married. He hadn’t seen that kind of loyalty in a long time. Unfortunately, he couldn’t give her the answer she wanted.

“I’ve read through the file, and I also noted that we shared our reports with an independent investigator hired by your in-laws. I’m sorry, Mrs. Kane. I don’t see any suggestion that the case was handled improperly.”

Her blue eyes filled with frustration, but there were no tears, thank God. She was hard enough to resist, with her fragile, haunted beauty. But he couldn’t allocate department resources to reinvestigating a case that had already been prosecuted to a satisfactory conclusion.

“
What about the fact that Jason Marlow was Derek’s friend? Wasn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“Several officers worked the case. But as I said before, if you bring me any new information, I’ll be happy to take a look at it.”

“Then I’ll be back,” she said, lifting her chin as she got to her feet. “Because I don’t believe that we know everything about what happened that night.”

After Brianna left, Joe gathered the loose papers together in the file, his eye falling once again on the photographs of the paintings. There was something about the mysterious Eve that intrigued him. Or maybe it was the artist’s torment that got to him—Delgado’s inability to see the woman he loved for who she really was.

And suddenly, Joe wasn’t seeing Eve’s face anymore but his wife, Rachel’s. Rachel, with the long black hair, the white skin, the enormous dark eyes, the full lips, and the soft body that had once welcomed him home.

Rachel had had more than three faces; she’d had half a dozen, and lately he hadn’t seen any of the happy ones. The woman he’d loved at fifteen, married at twenty-five, and lived with for fourteen years was more a mystery to him now than she had ever been. He didn’t know how to make her happy. He didn’t know if he even wanted to try anymore.

He’d thought the move to Angel’s Bay would be a fresh start for them, but it hadn’t turned out that way. Rachel was tied to L.A., to her real-estate business,
her friends, and a life that she couldn’t seem to give up for him.

He’d fallen in love with a life here that he couldn’t seem to give up for her.

Was it time to cut their losses and move on?

Or was it time for him to give up Angel’s Bay, go back to L.A., and be the husband she wanted him to be?

Shaking his head, he refocused his gaze on Eve. There was something about her eyes that seemed angry and disgusted, as if she couldn’t believe the artist was getting it so wrong.

“Maybe you should have just told him who you were, Eve,” he muttered. “Save him from having to guess and getting it wrong. But that would have taken all the fun out of it, wouldn’t it?”