In Seconds (Bulletproof #2)(10)
Author: Brenda Novak

“That’s him.”

“Oh, no!” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Now I feel awful for making fun of that plaid jacket he always wears…wore.”

Her comment might’ve been comical under different circumstances. Under these circumstances, Myles wasn’t even tempted to laugh. “It’s very sad, especially for his wife.”

“Are you sure someone did it? It wasn’t an—an accident?”

“I’m sure. A person doesn’t get beaten to death by accident.”

“So that’s why you’re pacing around in here.”

The murder was part of it; his angst over Vivian was the rest. That lust could take center stage on a night like this made him question his own character.

Marley turned on a lamp. “But…how could someone do such a thing?”

The sexual tension that had held him in its grip was beginning to dissipate. His daughter grounded him, helped him remember what was important. He’d made the right decision coming home. How could he expect Marley to approach sexual relationships with respect and caution if he didn’t set the proper example? “I don’t know, but we’re going to do everything we can to find the culprit.”

“Are you investigating it? I thought you had people who did that for you.”

“I do, but I’m in charge, so I’m responsible for how it’s handled.”

Troubled eyes regarded him as she pondered the news. But with typical teenage narcissism, she reverted to what she wanted almost immediately. “So why does that mean I can’t go to Elizabeth’s? You don’t think it’s safe?”

That wasn’t what he’d meant to convey. He didn’t want to cause mass panic in Pineview. He simply preferred to have his daughter at home tonight, where he could watch over her. And he wanted to remove the temptation to unleash the anger, disappointment, sexual frustration and myriad other emotions of the past three years on his neighbor. Taking Vivian up on her offer wouldn’t have made dealing with their lives afterward any easier. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just want to be cautious while my investigators figure out how and why it happened and make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

“You think someone else could be killed?”

Unless the perpetrator had already moved on. For the sake of everyone who lived in this small town by the lake, Myles hoped the danger had passed. But he also craved justice for Pat and understood how much harder it would be to obtain if his killer had left the area. “I can’t even guess. Like I said, we need to be cautious until we know more.”

“Oh, my gosh!” She grabbed her friend’s hand. “Then can Elizabeth stay here instead?”

So much for being afraid he’d spook her. With a sigh, Myles stretched the taut muscles in his neck. “Sure. As long as it’s okay with her parents.”

“We’ll call,” she said, and they hurried into the kitchen.

Despite the opening and closing of various cupboards—Marley digging out a snack—Myles heard Elizabeth on the phone.

“You know that real-estate guy? The one with the fake hair and that old-fashioned jacket? He’s dead,” she told her parents. “Someone killed him.”

The horror in those words doused the last of the arousal burning inside Myles. He had no business obsessing about a woman who wouldn’t even go out with him, not when he had a murder to solve.

And yet he was still up, rambling around the house, long after the girls fell asleep. Never had he missed Amber Rose more. It’s not fair. She should still be here with us.

But life wasn’t fair. No doubt Pat Stueben would tell him that.

If he could…

Vivian woke angry at Myles. It was the only way to avoid the embarrassment that would set in otherwise. After he’d shown a great deal of interest in her over the past year, she’d been nice enough to offer him the physical intimacy he had to be missing—and it wasn’t going to cost him so much as a meal. But he’d refused her. She had no patience with a guy like that. What was he, some kind of saint?

“Of course he is,” she grumbled. She’d heard what everyone had to say about him—how hard he tried to be a good father, how tender he’d been with his wife. This town considered him their guardian angel, the answer to every problem. He was even more popular than the mayor. But she didn’t have the luxury of living in a world where she could welcome the possibility of love. Not without putting the person she loved in danger. Or taking the risk of being wrenched away from him. That was why, in some ways, Rex had been perfect for her. Falling for him hadn’t drawn him into her problems. As Virgil’s former cellie and an ex–Crew member himself, he’d been involved before they ever met.

Tightening her robe, she tossed both wine bottles in the recycle bin. Pat’s murder had sent her reeling, made her reach for an antidote to her pain and fear. But the fact that someone had been killed was all the more reason to keep her wits about her. Especially since Claire would be over soon, wanting to know if Vivian had heard any more about the murder, if the sheriff happened to mention it to her, if she could ask him whether it might have a connection, however remote, to her missing mother. When Myles first came to town, he’d reopened the case as a favor to Claire, but her sister, Leanne, didn’t want to be reminded of the past. She’d reacted so badly to the investigation that Claire had asked him to stop.

Movement next door drew Vivian’s attention to the kitchen window. Myles had emerged from his house.

Don’t look at him!

She didn’t want to, but couldn’t resist. Tall and commanding in his uniform, he was as gorgeous as ever. She knew Virgil and Rex wouldn’t approve of her fascination with a cop. After having spent so much time in prison, they didn’t care for the type of personality generally attracted to law enforcement. But, as Claire so often pointed out to her, Myles was different. He was real, warm, unaffected by the power his office gave him. That was because he had a natural sense of authority, and even if he wasn’t the sheriff, she felt pretty certain that people would expect him to take charge—

Wait! Was he looking back at her? Yes! Startled by the realization, she ducked out of sight and, a few seconds later, heard his car start.

“Thank God,” she whispered as he drove away.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” Jake had come stumbling into the kitchen. Although he was dressed—in swim trunks, a T-shirt and flip-flops—his thick blond hair stood up on one side and his eyelids drooped with sleep.