His Wedding Date (The Second Chance Love Series, Book 2) (16 page)

She'd met him soon after her mother died, and he'd been there when she'd lost her father, as well. It had always been him. At times like now, she thought it always would be. How could she fight against something as strong as this mysterious force that lived between them, one that only grew stronger despite her efforts to stop it.

Now, Charlie was dead.

And, as always, Brian was here.

"Oh, Brian," she sobbed.

Wordlessly he closed the distance between them and took her into his arms.

She let herself sag against him, and he caught her fast against his big, powerful body. He'd done this so many times before. But this was different. She'd never felt so vulnerable, so confused, so angry and so scared. He'd never felt so good.

Brian was as solid as a rock, and not just because he was so tall and so strong. He was a man you could depend upon, one you could trust with your life. She had already done that—in the muddy river in Tallahassee where their plane had landed.

She clung to him now, as she had there on that riverbank, and she wondered where they'd found Charlie. She wondered if he'd drowned, as she nearly had, in murky, rain-swollen water. She knew how it felt. She remembered the panic and the struggle to no avail, and she prayed that what had happened to Charlie had been just what the deputy had suggested. She hoped the rocks got him as he hit the water, and he hadn't known anything after that.

Oh, Charlie
, she thought, surprised at how much she'd forgotten about the kind of pain that came with losing someone, surprised at how very alone she felt at that moment. More than anything, she wanted to just let herself go, to let herself sob her heart out in Brian's arms, but she made herself pull away from him. It was too easy to hang on to him this way, and she wanted too much to depend upon him.

Shelly didn't expect Brian to resist, but he did, holding on to her for a moment, as if to ask if she was sure she wanted to draw back. She didn't, but she knew she needed to.

Things had changed between them that night in the hotel, and whether or not she was upset, whether or not she was grieving for a dear friend, she couldn't let herself be held in his arms any longer. She did have some sense of self-preservation.

He knew it, too—that things had changed between them. And he didn't like it. That was clear, even as he gave in and let her go.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I know Charlie meant a lot to you."

She nodded, brushing her tears away before he could do it for her.

It wouldn't have been the first time he'd done that for her. She wondered if it would be the last time he would have the chance to try. She wondered who she had left to lose.

No one but him. Unless, of course, she reminded herself he'd never been hers to lose—not in the way she wanted him, not in the way she needed him.

One more sob got away from her, and Brian took a step closer.

"Shel? Let me... "

She shook her head.

"Is it just gone?" he said. "All those years of our friendship, everything we shared and all we meant to each other? Is it gone?"

She tried to explain the unexplainable to him, but got out nothing more than a sigh, then a shrug. Finally two little words, totally inadequate to express the myriad feelings she was fighting, came out. "It's different."

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, swallowed hard and looked as uncomfortable as she felt. "And you can't stand to have me touch you anymore?"

She dropped her eyes to the floor and kept them there. God, she didn't want to have this conversation. What purpose would it serve, anyway? She couldn't think of a one. What could she say to him? Nothing that would make things any better. But she could make it worse, she knew, by saying things she'd regret.

Brian took her hand and tugged gently until she looked at him again. Then he let it go.

"I know you don't want to talk about that night, but—"

"No," she said in a rush.

"One thing," he said, his own eyes dropping to the floor. "I have to know."

"Brian, please... "

"Did I hurt you?" he said roughly.

"No," she said, her breath coming out in a rush. She knew the pain he meant was physical. "Not that way."

Any woman would be angry at being mistaken for another woman, but it wouldn't hurt her feelings this much unless she cared deeply for the man. He had to have known how she felt. She suspected he'd known for years.

Did it really matter to have it all out in the open? She probably couldn't be any more embarrassed than she already was over what had happened that night.

"I'm sorry, Shel. I know that's not nearly enough, but I'm so damned sorry."

"I know," she said.

"And I... Aw, hell. This isn't the time. I know that."

She nodded. There wasn't ever going to be a time to discuss this, not if she got her wish.

"Look," he said, "somebody has to go to the morgue and identify the body. I can do that. But somebody has to tell his wife, too, and I don't even know which nursing home she's in. One of the deputies will go, if I can tell him where she is, but I thought... "

"I'll do it," she said. She couldn't stand the thought of Marion Williams hearing about this from a total stranger, even if she was unlikely to comprehend what she was told.

"Thanks," Brian said. "I'll go with you."

Shelly put a hand to her cheek. It was wet, and her hand was shaking. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"I know," Brian said.

"He was a good man."

"I know."

"He wouldn't make a mistake like that with the safety line." She was sure of that. "He didn't fall."

"We'll figure it out," Brian promised her.

She believed him, and found some measure of comfort in his promise.

Chapter 10

Marion Williams didn't understand a thing Shelly tried to tell her. She didn't even know who Shelly was. Marion thought her long-lost daughter had come back from the grave.

After the attempt, Shelly sat in the parking lot in the passenger seat of Brian's car and watched the rain fall around them, let the misery consume her. Brian sat beside her, not talking to her, not touching her. But he was with her. He hadn't been willing to let her do this on her own, and she appreciated that.

"How long has she been like that?" he asked.

Shelly shrugged her shoulders and tried to remember when Marion Williams hadn't been like that. "As long as I've known her, she's had days like that. She used to have days where she knew the people around her, she knew who she was and what year it was. Now she's like this most of the time."

Brian started the car and turned on the heater. It was getting chilly in the car. But he didn't make any move to start driving. "Do you think you got through to her?"

"No. I mean, I'm sure that on some level she'll realize that Charlie's gone and wonder where he is. But I don't think she can comprehend the idea that he's never coming back."

Shelly pulled the edges of her sweater together as she waited for the car to get warm. She wondered if it would ever stop raining. She wondered if Charlie had suffered in the end. She wondered who could have made him so afraid. Who could have made him lie to her? And who could have wanted him dead?

Then she remembered Grant and his strange phone calls. Grant knew what was wrong. The day had been so horrible, so shocking, she hadn't thought of it until just now, but Grant knew something.

"Brian... " She dreaded getting into this with him, but she didn't have any choice. He had taken Grant's place. He was the most senior engineer and second-in-command at the firm. He'd be running things, until something happened to the business.

She had an obligation to tell him, for the sake of the business Charlie was leaving behind, for the safety of everyone who worked in that office.

"There are some things we need to talk about," she said. "The phone calls I got—"

"You got more than one?"

She forgot she hadn't admitted that to him, then remembered the way she'd covered it up. Damn, she thought. Now she'd have to get into her personal relationship with Grant, as well.

"Yes. I got another call—"

"The night I was there." His lips stretched into a thin line, a sure sign he was angry.

"Yes," she admitted. She risked a glance in his direction, and wished she hadn't.

Why,
he asked her, without saying a word. Why had she kept that from him? Why couldn't she trust him, at least where someone's life was at stake?

"Please don't make this any harder than it already is," she said.

Brian threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of surrender, and he didn't say a word.

"The man didn't really say anything more than he said the first time, but I recognized his voice this time."

"Who?"

"Grant."

"Edwards? The guy I replaced?"

She nodded.

"Did he have much of a personal relationship with Charlie?"

Shelly considered that for a moment. She knew Charlie fairly well. At least, she thought she had. She didn't remember ever seeing him and Charlie together outside of the office, and neither one had told her anything about any personal interests they had in common.

"I don't know for sure," she said. "I don't think so."

"So whatever the hell is going on with Charlie is most likely work-related, and Edwards found out about it somehow. Don't you think so?"

"I guess. I really didn't remember the call until just now."

"Or this guy could have been part of it," Brian said, thinking out loud. "Where's Edwards now?"

Shelly tried to remember where he'd planned to go after he left Naples fourteen or fifteen months ago. "I'm not sure. He didn't have anything lined up when he left... "

"What did you remember?"

"When he left, he had a big blowup with Charlie. I'd forgotten about it until now. I don't know what it was about, and I couldn't hear what they were saying, but the body language spoke volumes. They were both furious."

Brian nodded. "Edwards figured out what was going on."

"Or Charlie did." She couldn't help but defend him. She couldn't believe Charlie was involved in anything that had gotten him killed. But she couldn't forget how he'd lied to her that day she'd confronted him about Grant's phone call. And she couldn't forget how scared Charlie had been when she and Brian had told him about the plane crash.

Charlie definitely knew what was going on. He knew he was in trouble, and that, more than anything else, convinced her that he was involved in something he shouldn't have been involved in.

"We have to tell the sheriff," Brian said.

"I know."

"Are you up to doing it now?"

No, she wanted to tell him. She didn't want to do anything else, and she wasn't sure she could. But she didn't have much choice in the matter. It had to be done, and she couldn't leave it to Brian to take care of it for her.

She looked at the rain, still running down the window, and wanted to cry, just like that, the tears running in big streaks down her face. Soon, she promised herself, but not yet.

"I can do it," she told him. "Let's go."

* * *

They'd been to the morgue, the nursing home and the sheriff's department, and Shelly had handled it all. She'd spent this whole horrible day with Brian, from sometime before dawn until after dark, but it wasn't over yet. Somehow he'd invited himself into her apartment after he'd driven her home, and she hadn't figured out how to get rid of him.

Shelly slipped off her shoes, not caring she barely made it to his shoulder in her stocking feet. She reached down inside herself, desperately searching for some bit of strength she'd held in reserve somewhere.

Clearly the man had something on his mind, and he didn't intend to leave until they'd dealt with it.

Shelly had resigned herself to it, actually. So she found herself curled up in the corner of the sofa, sipping decaf with him at eight o'clock at night.