Shielding the Suspect. C.J. Miller
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the officers walked away, Brady knelt in front of her and looked her dead in the eyes. “What were you doing right before the fire?”
Did he think she had something to do with the fire? The idea infuriated her. “I was sleeping. And before that, I was watching TV.”
Behind Brady, a movement in the trees bordering her property caught her attention. She paused, squinted, trying to see who—or what—was there. Was it another nosy neighbor, her imagination on overdrive or someone with malicious intentions? She hadn’t called the police to report her unease and sense of being watched. They wouldn’t have believed her and she didn’t want to add fuel to their case against her by appearing insane. As far as the authorities were concerned, she was a criminal and every moment she had outside jail was a gift.
Another movement in the trees. “Brady.” His name left her mouth in a whisper.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, leaning close.
Their gazes locked and for a moment, Susan lost herself in his dark eyes. Brady had the same dark eyes as his brother Reilly, but at close range, she could see flecks of light brown the color of wheat in them. She let him draw her close, even when every other thought screamed warnings to stay away.
Though she felt silly for speaking the words, it felt important to tell someone. “I thought I saw someone in the trees.”
Brady didn’t question her. He didn’t tell her she was seeing things because she was tired. “I’ll look. Stay here.” He stalked in that direction to check it out, his limp drawing her attention. He disappeared into the dark and worry fogged her brain. If Brady was still recovering from his injury, could he protect himself? She had never before questioned his abilities. Before he’d been wounded, Brady had been a force to be reckoned with. She believed him strong and capable. If nothing else, sheer will drove him.
She waited for Brady to return. When he reappeared, his limp was less noticeable. Was it an injury that came and went? Was that a good sign for his recovery?
“Did you see anyone?” she asked. Please let Brady have seen something that would help.
He stilled. “No. I didn’t.” He spoke the words quietly.
She took a deep breath against the battering disappointment. If anyone had been there, Brady would have found him or her. Had she imagined the shadow? Lately, she’d felt on display every time she left the house. Neighbors and friends had turned on her, blaming her for Justin’s death, whispering behind her back. Those who knew her mother and her father whispered about history repeating itself. Their stares had made her paranoid. “I thought someone was there. I swear someone was watching me.”
“Maybe it was a neighbor, coming to see if you were okay.”
“Right,” she said, anger lacing the word. She’d lived in Denver all her life, and in this neighborhood for the past ten years. Everyone knew her by name, knew who she was. Some had purchased her artwork and had it hanging in their homes. Friendships and relationships had splintered the moment Justin was murdered and the police had made it clear she was their top suspect. Few people wanted to be seen with her and those who did were punished. Like Reilly.
Susan coughed, the cold of the night sharp against her lungs and disappointment heavy on her shoulders. She felt trapped and without options. Her life was falling apart and at the moment, Brady’s help was the only lifeline dangling within reach.
* * *
Brady studied Susan’s face. Exhaustion framed her eyes. She hadn’t been sleeping well. The urge to pull her into his arms was overwhelming. He wanted to do something, anything to make her feel better. Though he wasn’t here to comfort her, gentleness and kindness could help. He could relax her and earn her trust. He’d coax the missing information out of her.
He’d meant to help her as a friend. But when it came to being close to her, touching her, those boundaries were unclear and his body had its own ideas. Making love with Susan had always put them both at ease. Kissing her had been a lengthy and intensely pleasurable activity. She liked having her feet rubbed and her calves massaged at the end of a difficult day and he’d been happy to oblige her. Taking care of her had been important to him.
Brady quashed those thoughts. That was the past. The landscape of the present was much different.
Susan’s fiancé hadn’t been dead a week. She was heartbroken and grieving. She didn’t want Brady in her life. She certainly wouldn’t want him in her bed. If she knew what he was thinking, she would shut him out completely.
Her current frame of mind wasn’t conducive to learning what he needed to about Justin’s murder. Brady would have to win back her trust. Maybe they would never stand on the same ground they once had, but he’d settle for getting close enough to help his brother.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Brady asked her.
Susan rubbed her forehead. “I can call my mother.”
That wouldn’t be easy on her. Susan didn’t have a good relationship with her mother and if anything, her mother would add stress. “I don’t know what’s going on yet, but from what I can see, this investigation is being bungled. Badly. The police suspect you. They’re not looking out for you. I can. I will. Stay with me. I’ll keep you safe,” Brady said.
Wariness flickered across Susan’s face. “That isn’t a good idea.”
It was a great idea. He could keep her close, protect her and work on establishing a friendship with her. “I’m planning to watch over you and keep you safe. I can continue to follow you around, or you can make it easy on me and stay close.”
“Easier on you?” Susan asked.
Brady shrugged. “It will be harder on my leg if I have to follow you around all the time with you working to dodge me.”
Indecision and a hint of compassion flickered across her face. “Staying together will create more problems than it solves.”
For her or for him? He could control himself. Brady knew Susan well enough to read her emotions. She needed someone to look out for her. She was run-down and exhausted. A gentle push and she’d agree. “You need a place to stay. You need someone to watch your back. I can offer both, no strings attached.” Why had he felt the need to add the last phrase? Of course he wouldn’t expect any attachment from her. He’d had his chance for her love and friendship and had blown it. Twice. Once when he’d broken up with her and again when she’d visited him in the hospital. Now, she was hurting, her heart broken over another man and she needed time to heal.
Susan folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t have much choice at the moment, do I?”
He didn’t mince words. “No, you don’t.” Given Justin’s murder, Reilly’s suspicions and the events of the evening, Susan needed someone to protect her. Brady would be that man. His knee stung as if to remind him he was working with a deficiency.
He hated that he was weak and questions about his abilities flickered through his thoughts. She’d agreed to stay with him, but if tested, would his injury get in the way and prevent him from protecting her? Would he fail again at his duty, leaving Susan for dead and Reilly paying the price for a crime he didn’t commit?
* * *
Ten minutes later, Susan was buckling her seat belt in Brady’s truck. The same pickup truck he had driven when they’d dated. She ran her fingers over the dash, memories invading her senses. Before she could tumble into reminiscing about the past, a loud voice screamed in her mind to stay somewhere else. Anywhere else. Staying with Brady was a mistake. The last time she’d spent the night at his place, they’d been lovers.
The last day they’d been together before Brady ended their relationship, they’d spent at the park. The weather had been unseasonably warm and Susan had her new camera and lenses. Brady had played in a pickup football game with a few friends he’d run into. He hadn’t wanted to leave her especially when he had limited free time, but she’d enjoyed sitting on the sidelines