Falling For The Brother. Tara Quinn Taylor
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older woman wasn’t all that fond of her. She gave instructions that Miriam was to see Brianna every day if she chose, but only with an officer assigned to Brianna present at all times.
Maybe that last part was overkill. Until a month ago Brianna had spent the night in Miriam’s home every other weekend without any guard detail at all. But that was before Harper had learned that Miriam was being abused and lying about it. Whether Bruce was her abuser, or she’d had someone else in their home without his knowledge, the fact remained that Miriam was protecting someone who’d hurt her.
After her last meeting she could’ve packed it in, called for Brianna, gone home. Instead she cleaned up the small pile of paperwork from the in-box at the corner of her desk. Watered her plants. And then texted Alissa, the guard she’d assigned to her daughter for the afternoon, asking her to bring Brianna up to the main building.
The rest of the evening, until Brianna’s bedtime, would be consumed by her chattering, her constant questions and observations. It was the lifeblood that kept Harper going. The source of her true happiness.
Maybe they’d go out for French fries. Not healthy, not something they did often, but a treat they both loved. She was thinking about Uncle Bob’s, a beachfront restaurant not far from their town house. There were sandboxes for kids to play in while waiting for their food; that would distract Brianna, giving Harper a few minutes to think her own thoughts. Or at least a few minutes during which Brianna wouldn’t notice her mother’s preoccupation.
She’d just received an affirmative response from Alissa that they’d be along shortly, when her cell rang. Her stomach lurched as she saw Mason’s newly programmed name flash on her screen. She’d given him her private number but she hadn’t expected him to use it.
“Yeah, Mason, what’s up?” she answered. Straight to the point. All business. Racing right by social niceties like “hello” and “how are you?”
“I’d like to stop by tonight. I have some questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“An official interview of a suspect’s ex-wife.” She heard no emotion in his delivery. Oddly enough, instead of calming her, that seemed to put her more on edge. “I’ve been asked by the Albina police force to pursue this case quietly, to protect my brother, whichever way it goes.”
“I don’t have anything to add to what I told you this morning.”
She was a cop. If she were Mason, she’d be after the interview herself. So why was she prevaricating?
“The interview is official, Harper.”
Heart thumping, she sat behind her desk, watching the door for her daughter to burst through. “Bruce has been charged?”
“No. You remember Clark O’Brien?”
“Captain O’Brien?” As in her boss’s boss’s boss when she worked for the Albina PD. Which had made it awkward for her when he’d shown up for dinner at her former father-in-law’s home. The two had been like brothers.
“Yeah.”
“I called him right after I left you this morning. I knew the department would probably be receiving a doctor’s report from urgent care.”
She nodded and stood up, grabbing her keys, thinking she’d meet Brianna and Alissa outside, intercept them on the way from Miriam’s bungalow.
“You wanted him to intervene.” She understood now. Mason had Bruce’s back.
“I wanted to forewarn him. Who knows how Bruce is going to react when this hits.”
Locking her office door, she headed down the hall. “Don’t you think, if he did this, he’d already be reacting in light of your call to him last night, telling him she was hurt? And that she’d been to the clinic?”
“What would you expect him to do?”
She gave it a second’s thought. And then had to say, “He’d go on as normal.” But in her experience, he also admitted his crimes. He hadn’t tried to hide his infidelity from her. He’d just lied when he’d said it would never happen again.
Also in her experience, he wasn’t a violent man...
The door leading to the resort’s secure grounds wasn’t far ahead of her.
“So is he suspended?”
“No. Clark asked me to conduct a private, preliminary investigation, apart from the PD.”
Her breath of relief made her feel heady for a second. Sunshine on her face felt good, too.
“So his reputation won’t be ruined if it turns out he didn’t do this.”
“Yes. But he did it, Harper. And if we prove that, we can handle this quietly, help him, rather than ruin his entire life.”
“Shouldn’t you be keeping an open mind, since you’re conducting the investigation?”
“What cop did you ever know who didn’t work with suspicions? With gut instincts? It’s what guides us to the truth.”
He was right, of course. But...
“Does Clark think he’s guilty?”
“I don’t know what he thinks, other than that he’s not happy about it. Any of it. He’s known Miriam for forty years. And Bruce and me for most of our lives. Out of respect for Dad, he wants me to find the truth. And, I guess, he’s hoping I find something other than Bruce has been abusing our grandmother.
“So...about this evening...”
She had Brianna to consider. Still, Mason was Brianna’s uncle—not that they’d spent any time together.
“How about if I meet you?” Her thoughts came quickly. Brianna and Alissa were approaching, only a football field’s distance away. “At eight...at The Cove.” A beach bar about a block from home.
“What about your daughter?”
“That’s past her bedtime.” She was panicking. For no reason. “I’ll call a sitter for her,” she said, thinking on the fly. “If I brought her along, the chances of us having a conversation without an inquisition from her would be nil.”
His brief chuckle warmed her. Which brought its own bout of panic.
“Okay, I’ll meet you at eight,” he said.
“You know where The Cove is?” It wasn’t as if Santa Raquel was all that big. Or he’d spent any time there. Not her problem.
“I’ll find it.”
Of course he would.
SHE’D DRESSED UP for him. In skintight black pants, a long, figure-hugging white shirt and a black denim vest trimmed with white lace, she knew she looked good. She’d spruced up her hair with enough spray to give it the sexy just-got-out-of-bed look her stylist had left her with the day she’d cut it. And put on eyeliner, too. She didn’t kid herself. A perverse, lesser part of her wanted Mason to regret never having called her after the night she’d spent in his bed. She wasn’t proud of the feeling. She also wasn’t fool enough to deny it was there.
The much bigger part of her, the rational part, dressed up to give herself confidence. And to prove that she wasn’t afraid of her sexuality in his presence. He could come on to her or not. She’d have no problem resisting him. Mason was a little too...much for her tastes. Taller than Bruce, broader than him, he’d always seemed larger than life to her. Gorgeous. But somewhat...intimidating. Both of the Thomas men, with their thick dark hair, swarthy coloring and striking green-gold eyes, had the ability to stop women in their tracks. Bruce had longer hair—and unrulier than Mason’s more military cut. She’d always preferred hair