The Fire Still Burns Page 10

  “I wasn't—”

  “You're treading close enough,” he snapped, placing his hands on his hips. “We're supposed to be conducting a case, not analyzing each other's career paths.”

  “Fine.” Brynn held her hands up in surrender and turned back toward the desk. She opened each of the drawers one by one and analyzed each item she found inside.

  There were quite a few poems, some dealing with loss, others dabbling in the subjects of love and what Brynn assumed to be self-loathing. Brynn knew poems could be interpreted in many different ways all depending on the reader's perspective, but what she gathered was that Rachel didn't have a very high self-esteem.

  The trait went hand in hand with the common belief that she'd dated several different men, typical behavior of a woman who didn't realize her own self-worth.

  She found newspaper clippings from Rachel’s mother's accident. Marla Wood had wrapped her car around a tree on a rainy winter night. The rain had made the already icy roads even slicker. From what Brynn could deduce from the articles, there was no foul play.

  “Do you recall Marla Wood’s accident?” She studied the woman’s picture, noting how much she looked like Riley, while waiting for an answer.

  “Yes.”

  “Anything suspicious about it?”

  “Not at all,” came Adam’s reply from the other side of the room. “The roads were awful that night.”

  After a thorough and disappointing search of the desk, Brynn closed the last drawer and turned to find Adam on his hands and knees prying at the floorboards with his fingertips.

  “What are you doing?”

  He glanced up long enough to respond. “When we were kids, Zeke taught me how to dislodge a few floorboards, creating a hiding spot. We used to hide candy and stuff we didn't want Mama to find. I figure if Zeke was involved with Rachel, he might have taught her the same trick.”

  “So that's where you hid your Playboy magazines,” Brynn quipped.

  “Of course,” Adam responded, his lips quirking.

  “Men.” Brynn huffed in mock indignity as she crossed over to Rachel's white oak dresser, the sound of Adam's soft chuckling warming her insides. She’d missed the warm sound, knew she would miss it even more when she left town again.

  A quick perusal of Rachel Wood's underwear drawer indicated why the locals thought her a prostitute. The girl had more sparkly, rhinestone-studded thongs than the entire staff of a strip club.

  That didn't make her a prostitute, but Brynn had been outside Black Bear Gorge, most of the town's inhabitants had not and, to them, such attire was sinful.

  She recalled a morning in church when the entire sermon had been focused on acceptable attire for women. Brynn smiled as she wondered what would happen if someone like Madonna or Lil' Kim happened to travel through Black Bear Gorge on their way to a concert. They'd probably be burned at the stake.

  The other drawers revealed many designer items, clothing that wasn't available for purchase in Black Bear Gorge and to her knowledge, not in Gatlinburg either. Such items could have been easily ordered over the internet, but Brynn doubted Rachel had ordered the items herself.

  Going off the rumors and the information given to her directly from Riley's mouth, she deduced Rachel Wood had a sugar daddy, and it wasn't Jimmy Nelson. He didn't make enough money to buy her such expensive clothes.

  She heard the sound of wood dropping against wood and looked over to find Adam removing two-foot-long planks of wood from the floor of Rachel's closet. She walked over to his side just in time to see him retrieve a thick wad of cash from the floorboards.

  “So much for Rachel not having any money,” he stuck his hand back through the hole in the floor. “Jackpot. Looks like I just found her best friend,” he pulled out a small book, a diary.

  He backed away from the closet to settle on the bed with Rachel's diary. “She disappeared a couple months back so I guess I'll just start reading right before that time, see if anything odd was going on around then.”

  “Good thinking,” Brynn replied, kneeling next to the hiding spot. Fortunately, it wasn't deep so she could see the contents inside. Money. Lots and lots of money.

  She scooped up the wad of twentys Adam had already removed and started to count them. She'd just reached the five hundred mark when she heard a thump and looked up to see Adam storming out the bedroom door, the diary face down on the floor, still opened to the page she assumed he'd been reading.

  She set the money aside to scoop up the diary.

  Dear Diary,

  I've done everything Zeke has ever asked me to do, even sleep with those disgusting men, but I can't do what he says this time. I can't kill our baby. I won't do it. He'll have to kill me first.

  Chapter Nine

  Brynn stepped out of the drugstore and turned right to find Adam standing before the high school football field staring at the spot where his brother's football jersey had burned to a crisp two days earlier. Although his hands were in the pockets of his jeans, she knew they were tightened into fists and the look on his face clearly stated he wanted to strangle someone.

  The need to place her hand on his shoulder, comfort him until some of his inner torment eased, filled her, but she didn't know if her touch could still comfort. Touching him might be the worst thing she could do at the moment. He finally knew what a louse his brother was, and, despite the satisfaction of someone else knowing, she hurt for him.

  “Adam?”

  “What?” He kept his gaze on the field, his tone hostile, abrasive enough to make Brynn flinch as though she'd been struck.

  She took a breath and pressed on. “Are you all right?”

  He turned around, glaring down at her. “If you're still the way I remember you to be, you read those diary pages after I walked out.”

  “If you're still the way I remember you to be, you wanted me to, but you couldn't bring yourself to ask so you left it behind for me,” she responded with her chin raised.

  He let out a mirthless chuckle, nodding his head. “Well, since you know me so well, you know damn well I'm not all right.”

  “I'm sorry.” She put her hands in her front pockets to avoid reaching out to him.

  “Are you? You were right. My brother was a horrible person.” He threw his hands up in the air.

  “He made that poor girl have sex with other men. He put a child inside her and asked her to kill it.” He choked on the last few words.

  Brynn could tell hot angry tears burned his eyes, but being the type of man he was, he wouldn't let them fall. “I guess you've earned the right to gloat.”

  “Only a true bitch would gloat over something like this. I'm sorry you had to find this out. I know how much you loved him.”

  “Loved him? I emulated him.” He shook his head, his jaw clenched tight. “Other kids looked up to basketball players, race car drivers…Zeke was my hero. I thought he was the best.”

  “Nobody's perfect,” Brynn said, at a loss for anything useful to say. It was hard to defend someone you hated, even if you were doing it to make someone you loved feel better.

  “On the bright side, we know he was involved with Rachel. This information can help us to find the arsonist and his killer. Just focus on that, not the bad stuff.”

  “I don't think I can just forget what I read,” he ran his hand over his face, which looked worn and tired.

  “I know, but you have to avoid dwelling on it.” Brynn glanced at her watch, noting the darkening of the sky. She’d missed lunch with Nate and, considering she had another job to do, she probably wouldn’t see him until late evening.

  A wave of guilt washed through her. “I hate to do this, but I have to go catch Bruce Barton cheating on his wife. She's paying for photographic proof. Can you drive me back to my car?”

  “Can I go with you?”

  She looked at him, her heart ached from the pain she read in his eyes. “Yeah, sure. I don't mind the company.”

  They walked to his truck in silence, and Adam
opened the door for her. Brynn slid in and, once the door was closed behind her, she un-tucked her T-shirt and retrieved the small diary she'd hidden under it.

  “You took that?” Adam asked as he slid into his side of the truck.

  “Yeah, I didn't think Riley would let me leave with it, so I snuck it out. I put all the money back in the hiding spot and replaced the loose floorboards. I figure we'll read the entire diary before handing it over to the police.”

  “And the money?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “We'll have to tell them about that, too, in case it's dirty money, although I'm sure it would help Riley to have it. It could help the police solve the homicide. That's the most important thing.”

  “What if it's not dirty?”

  Brynn considered that. “We'll read the diary and see. If it seems like the right thing to do, we'll just let Riley have it.”

  “Sounds good to me, but I don't think I want to know anything more about what's in that diary. I don't want my memories of Zeke tarnished any more than they already are.”

  Brynn nodded. He now understood his brother had a dark side. That was good enough for her, there was no need for him to feel additional pain. “I understand. I'll read it myself and I'll just share what you really need to know.”

  “Works for me,” he said as he started the engine. “Let's go catch Bruce in the act.”

  Tasty Burger wasn't particularly crowded, and, thankfully, the upper half of the building's dining area walls were all glass, making it easy for Brynn to get a photo of Bruce Barton in the act of cheating on his spouse from where she and Adam sat in his parked truck.

  “Do this a lot?” Adam asked. It was the first time he'd spoken since they parked in one of the spaces at the farthest edge of the restaurant's parking lot.

  “This is the main thing I do, this and locating old friends and sweethearts.” Brynn never took her eyes off the table where a scantily-clad bleached blond, Dalia Smith, sat anxiously awaiting her married lover.

  “Every once in a while something interesting pops up, but mostly this is what a P.I. does.”

  “So what did you do, put up flyers for your services when you got into town?”

  “Adam, you know this town better than I do. Everyone here knew what I did before I even set foot back here. Besides, I've had a website up for years.”

  “I never thought of that.”

  Brynn cast a glance at him briefly, reminding herself she was on a stakeout before she gave in to the temptation to look him square in the face. “Why would you have needed to know about my website? Been needing a detective for something other than the case we're currently handling together?”

  “No. I just never realized it would have been that easy to…nevermind. Forget I said anything.” He shifted in the seat, his tall frame undoubtedly stiff from sitting in the truck so long.

  “Dalia's been waiting in there a while now. Bruce should have been here already.”

  “Yeah, she's looking pretty annoyed.” Brynn noted the time. It was half an hour later than Bruce’s normal arrival time, if Adam’s recollection were correct. “Think he's standing her up?”

  “Maybe Nellie wised up and figured out his date night all by herself.”

  “That would suck.” Brynn swiveled her head around to meet his gaze.

  “What? You don't think she should know what her husband's doing?” His brow creased.

  “Of course I do or I wouldn't be out here with a camera waiting for the cheating jackass to meet his lover. I just want her to find out after I get paid for the incriminating picture.”

  Adam chuckled. “Well, at least your priorities are straight.”

  “A woman's got to feed her child.” Something in the air shifted as silence swept through the truck, only the sounds of breathing registering in Brynn's ears. She realized then that they'd never really discussed her son. Now that she'd mentioned him she felt awkward, as though she'd done something taboo.

  “So you only had the one boy?” Adam’s voice was soft as he returned his gaze to the restaurant before them.

  “That's right.” Her heartbeat kicked up a notch, her palms growing cold and clammy. What was he thinking? What questions would he ask and which ones should she or should she not answer?

  “What's his name?”

  “Nathaniel.” That one was easy.

  “Your dad's middle name?”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess he's a big kid now, almost a teenager.”

  “Yes.”

  “Does he look like you or…”

  Oh, God.

  “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?”

  Adam looked out the window, his hand tightening around the steering wheel. “I guess it's like passing by a bad accident or witnessing a loved one die. You don't want to be there, to see or know anything that's going on, but part of you just has to know.”

  “He has my attitude,” Brynn answered his question without answering it, and was surprised by the soft chuckle she heard.

  “He must give you hell sometimes then.”

  “Nah, he's a good kid. Says things he shouldn't sometimes though. Tells people where they can go.”

  “Just like his mama.” Adam chuckled again, his grip loosening on the steering wheel.

  He lightly tapped his fingers on it before growing silent and lowering his hand to his lap. “So what happened to Cal? He was a young guy, he shouldn't be dead.”

  Brynn found herself fidgeting with her hands before wiping the sweat from them on her jeans-clad leg. She could take the easy way out and tell him Cal had died in some horrific accident, but hadn't she led him to believe in enough falsehoods?

  “He killed himself,” she answered, not sure if he could hear her, her voice had come out so soft.

  She watched Dalia sitting inside the restaurant tapping her fingers on the chrome table, and waited for his response, half fearing it like an abused child fearing the next slap.

  He believed her capable of sleeping with his best friend. Why wouldn’t he find her capable of driving a man to suicide? After several silent minutes passed and she couldn't stand the suspense any longer, she took her gaze off the woman sitting in the restaurant and faced him.

  She expected to see accusation, revulsion, a look that screamed, “You did that to him, you caused a man's death.” All she saw were eyes widened in surprise mixed with a touch of sorrow in his deep frown.

  “Are you going to say anything, or are you done with the questioning?”

  He dropped his head, turning it toward the window on his side of the truck. “I'm a little stunned, Brynn. I hated the guy for what he did, but I'd never wish for him to do that. Is that why no one has heard from his parents?”

  “I don't know,” she answered honestly. “I never really talked to them much. I know suicide is considered a major sin and, in a town like this, it would make sense if they didn't want anyone to know what their son had done. In fact, I'd rather not have the town know myself.”

  “I won't tell anyone.” He looked at her, a gentle softening, something close to sympathy in his eyes. “So how'd he do it? Why did he do it?”

  “Shot himself. As to the why, I guess you'd have to ask him, but I think it was guilt. I don't think he ever forgave himself for things he'd done.”

  “How's your son dealing with it?” Adam asked after a long pause.

  “He's doing well, actually. They never got along. He wasn't around enough to bond with Nate.” Understatement of the year.

  “How is that? You lived in the same house, didn't you?”

  Brynn glanced at the man she loved, the only man she'd ever trusted and wondered just how strong that trust was now. If he knew everything would he take her back or had their bond, seemingly unbreakable in their youth, deteriorated to the degree he could easily cast her away?

  She sucked in air, prepared to let out a long nerve-relaxing sigh before giving him an answer, but the air caught in her throat as she glanced at a movement i
n the parking lot.

  “What is it?” Adam asked. From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn his head toward the direction her gaze had fallen.

  Nellie Barton walked toward the restaurant with a shotgun in her hands.

  “Oh, shit. That's not good.” Adam unclipped his cell phone from his belt. “I'll call the police.”

  “Dalia will be dead by the time they get here.” Brynn climbed out of the truck.

  ~~~

  Damn woman!

  Adam snapped his cell phone shut and raced to catch up to her. Brynn was already near the restaurant's entrance. Nellie Barton had just stepped through the door, and from outside the building he could hear her hysterical shout.

  “Everyone but Dalia Smith get out unless you want a bullet hole in you!”

  It sounded like a good idea to Adam, but against his better judgment he followed Brynn inside, struggling to wade through the other patrons who were all pushing and shoving against him as they scrambled to get out.

  It was the smart thing to do, and, normally, he would go the same direction, but if Brynn was the same impulsive risky woman she'd been when she'd left Black Bear Gorge, she was going to stand right in Nellie Barton's firing range. He couldn't let her foolishly stubborn ass stand there alone. The thought of a bullet breaking through her flesh held his heart in a vice.

  Adam reached out to grab Brynn by the arm, hoping to drag her out through the doors and avoid any confrontation with Nellie altogether, but the unstable woman in question chose that moment to notice them, swinging around to face them with the gun pointed and ready. “I said everybody out except this slut.”

  Brynn abruptly stopped and caused Adam to crash into her. They managed not to fall, instead they slowly straightened, both of them instinctively raising their hands to show they were unarmed and harmless.

  Sitting ducks. Adam cursed himself for following Brynn into the restaurant, putting her safety above his own.

  First, she'd nearly killed him by ripping his heart out. Now, she had led him right into the path of a scorned woman with a gun. Would he ever learn that the woman was dangerous to him? Would he ever stop wanting to protect her despite it?