Deadly Memories (Hardy Brothers Security Book 18) (5 page)

Instead of reacting with curiosity – or sincere confusion – Sophie recoiled when she saw the velvety gray rectangle.

“What’s wrong?” Grady asked, surprised.

“It’s nothing,” Sophie said, shaking her head and jumping up from the couch. She couldn’t put enough distance between the box and herself. “I just … I was wrong. It’s too much.”

“Okay,” Grady said, placing the jewelry box on the table and hurrying to Sophie’s side so he could tug her close for a hug. “It’s okay, sugar. I knew this was going to be emotional. We don’t have to look at anything else tonight.”

“That would be great,” Sophie said, exhaling heavily as she rested her head on Grady’s shoulder and tried to control her heartbeat. “That would be … perfect.”

“Let’s go in the bedroom,” Grady suggested, tamping down his worry. “I’ll give you a massage before we go to sleep. Something tells me you need it.”

“I’ll meet you in there,” Sophie said, flashing a wan smile. “I just want to splash some water on my face first.”

And take a moment to collect yourself
, Grady silently added. “Okay. Get ready for me to rub you silly.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”

“
D
o
you want breakfast before work, sugar?” Grady asked, strolling into the living room the next morning and pulling up short when he saw Sophie sitting on the couch and staring at the jewelry box.

Grady took the opportunity to watch her for a moment, his heart hopping due to how pale she appeared. She was so fixated on the box she hadn’t noticed Grady’s entry. Grady massaged Sophie for a solid hour the night before, and when he turned off the lights he expected her to pass out from sheer exhaustion within minutes. Instead she initiated a soft bout of lovemaking that tore at Grady’s heart. She was almost needy, desperately clinging to him as they coupled. He was starting to regret bringing the items home.

“Sophie?”

Sophie jolted at the sound of his voice, shifting her eyes to his and shaking her head, as if she was coming out of a trance. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

“I asked if you wanted breakfast,” Grady said, his mind busy as he wondered how hard he should press her. “If you have time, I can take you out. I think some grease and juice would do you good. All we have is cereal here.”

“Let’s go out,” Sophie said, forcing a smile for Grady’s benefit. “Eggs and hash browns sound great.”

Grady knew she was putting on an act, but there was no way he could call her on it. He was the one who insisted on surprising her with remnants of a childhood long forgotten. He couldn’t force her to deal with it on his timetable.

“Let’s go then,” Grady said, extending his hand. “Any time I get to spend with you is my favorite time of the day.”

“Cute,” Sophie said, and this time her smile was genuine when she flashed it in his direction. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re bucking for a repeat of last night when I get home after my shift.”

“Am I that transparent?” Grady played along with her game because he knew she needed it. His heart wasn’t in it, though. Why did that jewelry box set her off? She was emotional when she saw the photograph, but part of her was obviously thrilled with the find. The jewelry box was another matter entirely.

“You’re a surprise wrapped in a hot package,” Sophie replied. “Come on. You can buy breakfast while I check the other newspapers. I’m dying to see if I scooped everyone.”

“Something tells me you’re not going to be disappointed, sugar.”

“
S
O
, THIS
is a surprise,” Mandy said shortly after noon, sliding into a booth at the local Coney Island and fixing Sophie with a small smile. “You don’t usually want to have lunch on work days.”

“I know,” Sophie said, reaching for a menu. It was a lame attempt to appear normal, even though every Coney Island in the area offered the same food items. “I just needed someone to talk to, and I figured you were my best option.”

“You can always talk to me, Sophie,” Mandy said, worry briefly flitting across her face as she shoved a hank of blond hair behind her ear. “What’s wrong? Does this have something to do with that story you broke? You were the only reporter in the area to get it, by the way. That’s pretty impressive.”

“I bullied Morgan to force his hand,” Sophie supplied. “It wasn’t all that impressive.”

“And yet everyone is talking about your story,” Mandy said. “Judge MacIntosh came into my office before the morning session to see what I knew. He was disappointed when I explained I knew absolutely nothing.”

“Why would Judge MacIntosh care?” Sophie was glad for the conversation derailment. She needed to talk about the recovered personal items, but she was at a loss on how to broach the subject. “Is he friends with Foley?”

“Chuck Foley has been making quite a name for himself in political circles,” Mandy replied. “You know that because you cover a lot of meetings and political rallies. He’s been very … vocal … about getting the graft out of Macomb County politics.”

“He’s also been vocal about clean living and personal integrity,” Sophie pointed out. “Now he’s going to be on the hot seat because his son blew both of those notions right out of the water.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s going to be pretty when the dust settles,” Mandy agreed. “Foley will want to call in favors and every judge in the circuit courthouse is going to fight that case being put on their docket.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “Do you really think so?”

“This case could be a headache for whatever judge takes it on,” Mandy supplied. “Foley is likely to personally attack the prosecutor and judge. He’s been known to go after people who disagree with his ideals and poke holes in his financial plans. It’s not going to be a walk in the park.”

“Maybe Foley will see the error of his ways and strike a deal with the prosecutor,” Sophie suggested. “That seems as if it would be the best for everyone.”

“There’s no way that’s going to happen,” Mandy said. “The prosecutor has a new ‘tough on crime’ initiative. He can’t afford public sentiment to swing against him because people assume he’s going to go easy on another politician. That will get everyone worked up, so he has no choice but to go the other way.”

“I guess I never really thought about any of that,” Sophie said, shaking her head. “I knew it was going to be a big story, but this is going to take on a life of its own. I have to go over to the hospital to try to track Foley down after lunch. He’s been dodging my calls. I’m not looking forward to that.”

“I don’t blame you,” Mandy said, her expression thoughtful as she reached for her glass of water and took a sip. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Sophie balked. “What makes you think something is bothering me?”

“Because you’re wound tighter than a Kardashian’s skirt and whatever is bothering you has nothing to do with the Foley case,” Mandy replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re worried about that, too, but something else is on your mind.”

“You know me well,” Sophie said, exhaling heavily and blowing up her bangs.

“Does this have something to do with the storage unit?”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you know about it, but for some reason it never occurred to me that you would already have all of the information,” Sophie said. “What did James tell you?”

“Not much,” Mandy answered. “He said he picked the lock and warned Grady about invading your privacy. He said there was a lot of stuff in the storage locker and they grabbed two boxes for you. That’s it, though.”

“That’s it, huh?”

“Sophie, I know this is probably difficult for you, but I’m honestly not sure what the problem is,” Mandy admitted. “The only reason James did it in the first place was because I asked him to. Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Sophie said, shaking her head. “I think what you did was incredibly sweet. It’s just … it was hard. I felt like I was an intruder in my own body. Grady showed me a framed photograph of myself when I was five, and do you know what? I didn’t remember what I looked like.”

Mandy’s heart rolled at the admission. “I never thought about that,” she said. “We don’t really remember how we looked as kids, but we have photographs to remind ourselves. You forgot what you looked like and the reminder must have been … jarring.”

“It was not what I expected,” Sophie said. “Grady went on and on about how cute I was, but when I looked at that little girl I felt disconnected. I thought this would bring my past to my present and fill in some holes. What if it doesn’t, though?”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Mandy almost looked relieved. “I thought you were about to tell me you had some deep, dark secret from your childhood haunting you and I brought everything to the forefront. Whew!”

Sophie shifted on the vinyl seat and forced her expression to remain neutral. “I always thought I was missing something from my past, but now it’s staring at me and I’m terrified to explore it.”

“Then don’t explore it,” Mandy said, her pragmatic side taking over. “If you’re frightened … or confused … or altogether worried about something you can’t identify, the best thing to do is put the boxes in a closet where you can’t see them.

“Then, in a few days or weeks, you can go back and look through them once you’ve wrapped your mind around things,” she continued. “You don’t have to do anything now. We kind of sprung it on you.”

“That’s another thing,” Sophie said, rubbing the crease between her eyebrows. “I don’t want to be angry, because what Grady did was incredibly sweet, but I feel as if my privacy has been violated.”

“I didn’t expect Grady to go through your stuff without you,” Mandy offered. “That probably wasn’t a good idea. I think he knows that, though. He didn’t mean it as an invasion of privacy as much as he thought he was doing something sweet and romantic for you.

“I know it’s hard,” Mandy said, her blue eyes sympathetic as they locked with Sophie’s. “You might want to give him a pass on this, though. He wouldn’t hurt you for anything.”

“I know he wouldn’t,” Sophie said, leaning her head back so she could stare at the ceiling. “I was happy and settled two days ago. Now I have a huge story and a potential fight with a county commissioner at the same time my past is suddenly smacking me in the face and I’m not sure I want to deal with it.”

“No one is forcing you to deal with anything you’re not ready to deal with,” Mandy said. “You can only do what you can do on your own timetable.”

“Is that something your therapist said?” Sophie regretted the question the moment it escaped her mouth. Everyone tiptoed around Mandy’s therapy sessions as if they weren’t happening, and now she’d thrown it in the pretty woman’s face. “I’m sorry. That was … a stupid thing to ask.”

“It’s fine,” Mandy said, waving off Sophie’s concern. “I’m not really in therapy as much as I’m talking about my feelings. It’s really just an entire hour once a week of me explaining how I feel guilty about killing a child rapist and murderer. It’s not profound … or like it is on television.”

“If it’s important to you, it’s profound.”

“I guess that’s true,” Mandy conceded. “Therapy is going well. James is still a little iffy about it, but he wants me to be happy. He’s doing his level best to let me do my own thing without complaint or comment.”

“That must be killing him,” Sophie said, giggling. “He’s usually doing his level best to keep you on his lap.”

Mandy joined in with Sophie’s laughter. “See,” she teased. “It’s not so bad. If you give yourself time to deal with your feelings eventually you’ll surprise yourself when you realize you’re ready to look in the box on your own.”

“You’re probably right,” Sophie said. “I … .” She broke off when she saw Mandy’s attention drift to the front window of the diner. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t look now,” Mandy said, lowering her voice as she glanced around the busy restaurant. “I think Chuck Foley is about to lodge a complaint.”

“Crap,” Sophie muttered, swiveling in her seat when she felt an angry presence move in at her left. “Commissioner Foley, it’s nice to see you. I was going to stop in at the hospital and pay my respects this afternoon.”

Chuck Foley’s round cheeks were red and sweaty, and his green eyes flashed with hatred as his gaze bounced between the two women. “You have a lot of nerve, Ms. Lane.”

Sophie ran her tongue over her teeth as she considered how to respond. “Would you care to have a seat, Mr. Foley?”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead sitting with trash like you,” Foley seethed, causing Mandy to narrow her eyes.

“There’s no reason to talk to her like that,” Mandy snapped. “It’s not her fault your son got hammered and drove off a bridge. She was just doing her job when she reported on the story.”

“No one is talking to you,” Foley said. “If I want to discuss filing court briefs, you’ll be the first one I call. Until then, shut your stupid mouth.”

Mandy was shocked. “You can’t talk to me that way.”

“I just did,” Foley hissed. “Now shut your hole.” He turned his attention to Sophie, and for a moment the willowy reporter worried he would try to put his hands on her. That wouldn’t end well. When Grady and Peter found out, Foley would end up with cement shoes when he was dumped in a lake. He had to know that.

“Mr. Foley, I understand you’re upset,” Sophie said, choosing her words carefully. “If you would like to discuss this, we can go somewhere private.”

“I’m not discussing anything with the likes of you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Mandy asked.

“She’s a mafia whore,” Foley answered. “Everyone knows she does Peter Marconi’s dirty work. She’s a disgusting piece of filth, and I’m not going to stand for her maligning my son in this manner ever again.”

“She didn’t malign your son,” Mandy argued. “Your son got drunk and killed his friends. Sophie reported the truth. You might want to ask yourself why you’re mad at the person who reported the truth when the one responsible for this mess is someplace else.”

“And you might want to shut your hole before I do it for you!” Foley’s hands shook as he clenched them at his sides. “Stay out of this conversation, you stupid bimbo. I’m talking to the mob princess. Do you understand?”

Mandy’s eyes widened, but she wisely snapped her mouth shut.

“Now, Ms. Lane, I have a message for you and it’s going to be brief,” Foley said. “If you think of writing one more word about my son, I’m going to end your career. On top of that, I’m going to sue your newspaper for everything it’s worth. Do you understand?”

Sophie was used to angry threats so she wasn’t exactly prostrate with worry when she locked gazes with Chuck Foley. “Mr. Foley, you don’t scare me,” she said. “I will continue with this story and do my job. If you have a problem with that, you’re more than welcome to contact my editor.”

“Oh, you can bet I’m going to do that,” Foley spat.

“One more thing, Mr. Foley,” Sophie said, forcing the man’s attention back to her even though he looked as if he wanted to storm out of the diner. “If you ever threaten my safety again – or say one word to my friend here – I’m going to have my mafia daddy have a little talk with you about manners.”

Foley’s face whitened as Mandy pursed her lips to keep from laughing. “Was that a threat?”

Sophie remained calm as she regarded the commissioner. “It was merely a statement, Mr. Foley. Now, you have a nice day.”