No Escape (16 page)

Lara grinned. ‘Have at it, sister.’

Jo regarded Lara’s jeans. ‘Are you wearing a white dress for the ceremony?’

‘No. No white dresses for me. I’m wearing a sundress. It’s a light purple.’

Jo raised a brow. ‘The throwback carnivore marries the artsy vegetarian.’

Lara and Jo both were laughing when Cassidy burst through the front door. Her dark hair was swept up on her head, and she wore a black dress with a large silver concho belt and red cowboy boots. ‘Let’s get this party started!’

Lara laughed. ‘My life is gonna be interesting.’

Brody’s tie coiled around his neck extra tight as he took his seat on a white folding chair under the large tent. He and two dozen other Rangers and their wives sat behind Jim’s mother and grandfather. A bluegrass band played standard tunes as a cool breeze blew over the tall grass and into the tent.

Jim stood at the front with his younger brother at his side. Both wore dark blue suits that highlighted the olive complexion they’d inherited from their mother and the broad shoulders from their grandfather. Lincoln sat peacefully beside Jim, his collar decorated with small, rather unmanly flowers, which Jim had announced were coming off right after the ceremony.

When a set of guitars started to play the wedding march, everyone rose and faced the dirt path that led back toward the house. The first to appear was Jo. When Brody spotted her, unexpected tension tightened his gut. He’d always found her business suits a little erotic but today’s sweep of her hair over her pale shoulders and the green halter dress had him hardening like a teenager.

Her gaze fixed on the minister, she grinned broadly, moving down the aisle. As she moved past, she didn’t spare a glance at him, but his gaze locked on her. He caught the whiff of a perfume she’d not worn before. Spicy. And sensual.

He straightened his shoulders and clasped his hands in front of him as she passed. He’d never been one for looking back or wishing away what was, but right now he’d have paid dearly for a clean slate with Jo Granger.

Next on deck was the brunet with the red cowboy boots. Cassidy. She was one hell of a looker in her own right. Nothing like Jo. Not his type. But stunning.

And then Lara emerged. She wore a purple peasant-style sundress that brushed the ground and her sandaled feet. Her long hair hung loose around her shoulders and someone had woven small flowers into several strands. Woodstock would have greeted Jim’s artist bride with open arms.

Lara’s gaze locked on Jim’s, and she moved toward him with a pace that purists might consider too fast. She looked eager and ready to jump into this marriage. Jim looked equally as happy, and the first twist of jealousy Brody had had in years snapped. Back in the day, he’d coveted a new bike, a new car, better bats, and the number one pitcher job, but now all that was downright meaningless. What he coveted was what Jim and Lara shared.

The reception was the kind Brody liked: an old-fashioned Texas barbecue. The bride and groom didn’t have the overstressed expressions he’d seen at too many weddings, and the guests looked comfortable. The men had taken off their sport jackets, and the women mostly wore sandals, not those punishing high heels that sent them searching for Band-Aids halfway through a party.

Brody stood with several Rangers talking about a recent trip to the shooting range. Scores were compared. Jokes made. Challenges issued. The talk rumbled around him as he scanned the crowd for Jo. He found her by the food table, a soda in her hand as she talked to Santos. When she smiled at him her eyes lit up and her posture was relaxed, not stiff and defensive. Santos leaned forward and said something close to her ear, and she tossed back her head and laughed out loud. It struck him that he’d never heard her laugh. He suspected now that the laughter had always been there, but he’d been too bullheaded and self-pitying to coax it.

He took a long pull on his beer and imagined landing a punch on Santos’s grinning jaw as the other Ranger held out his hand to Jo and the two went to the dance floor in front of the bluegrass band.

Santos led Jo through a two-step, which she had no talent for. The more she protested and laughed at her own missteps, the more endearing she became to Santos and him. After one sloppy spin, she lost her footing, only to have Santos steady her and pull her close. Her hand went to his chest as her other gripped his forearm.

Brody finished off his beer.

‘You don’t look like the happiest padre I’ve ever seen.’ Jim, who’d taken off his jacket and loosened his tie, stared squarely at Brody. ‘Looks like you could gnaw on broken glass.’

Brody tore his gaze from Jo and shrugged. ‘Naw.’

Jim looked past Brody to Jo. ‘I didn’t realize you had a hard-on for the good doctor.’

His temper rumbled. ‘I don’t have a hard-on for Dr. Granger.’

Jim laughed. ‘I’m trained to spot liars.’

Brody, like any good cop, could lie as well as any thief, but his tense posture and biting grip on his beer bottle were giving him away. He opted to change the subject. ‘Lara looks nice.’

Jim’s gaze locked on his bride who was snapping pictures of her guests. ‘She’s pretty damn perfect.’

‘You two lovebirds taking a honeymoon?’

‘Not now. She’s teaching, and I’m in the middle of a couple of cases. We’re taking a road trip to Galveston in about six weeks.’

‘Should be a good trip.’

Jim drew his gaze away from his wife. ‘Looking forward to it.’

He pondered his empty beer and wished for a second. ‘Hell of a party.’

‘Fussy is not our style.’

‘Amen.’

The band stopped playing and the couples on the dance floor stopped and clapped. The bandleader announced a fifteen-minute break. Good. No more dancing.

‘So you gonna talk to her?’ Jim said. ‘Or are you gonna stand there like a yellow-belly coward?’

Brody met Jim’s amused gaze. ‘Is this middle school, pal?’

Jim held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘I know when a guy is smitten. And padre, you’ve been bitten by the bug.’

Brody rubbed the back of his neck with his hands. ‘I’m about the last guy that Jo Granger would date.’

‘Why’s that? She strikes me as the type to stand up to your type.’

‘And my type is?’

‘Let’s face it. Like any good cop you can be an ass when pushed. I’ll bet you hate hearing no and you think everything should stop when you speak.’

Brody didn’t deny it. The Jo from college days had been tentative and worried about offending anyone. But somewhere along the way she’d grown up into a sharp gal. ‘More the type to settle with a doctor or a lawyer.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Why’d you say that?’

‘Just guessing.’

‘You might be right. Lots of Rangers have circled and sniffed around her, but she keeps them all at arm’s distance.’

Sniffing around. Shit. ‘Santos looks like he’s doing his share of sniffing.’

‘Ah, I wouldn’t worry about that. He’s a pal to her.’

Brody’s laugh was dark and mirthless. ‘Don’t seem too pal-like to me.’

‘She helped him with his sister, Maria, when their mom died. He’s more like a brother to her.’

‘He isn’t having brotherly thoughts.’

‘He can have all the thoughts he wants. According to what she told Lara she sees him as a friend.’

Good.

Shit. He shouldn’t care one way or the other.

He didn’t have the right to stand here moping and wishing away a relationship that would make her happy. He’d lost all those claims a long time ago.

‘What is it between you two?’ Jim pushed.

Brody’s fingernail dug into the label on his bottle. He considered dodging the question but refused to shy away from the plain facts. ‘Would you believe Jo and I used to be married?’

Jim stared at him openmouthed.

Brody had never shared that bit of information. Never made sense to talk about his past. But the present and the past were getting tangled up and suddenly it mattered. ‘Son, you’re going to catch a fly with that trap.’

Jim shook his head. ‘I’ve known Jo for two years. Never a word about a marriage. Not that she’d share much anyway. That’s not her style.’

‘It was in college. She was a freshman and I was a senior. We had a lot of emotion and not much common sense. We met in the fall and were divorced by spring.’

‘Damn.’ Jim shook his head. ‘Just too young, I suppose.’

Brody shook his head. ‘As you said, I can be an ass.’

‘Young men aren’t the brightest.’

‘I sure was not.’

Jim stared at Jo as if seeing her with fresh eyes. ‘No signs of tension between you two at the crime scene.’

‘She’s a class act. A lady to the end. Not in her to be anything but professional.’

‘Second chances aren’t impossible. You sure look like you wouldn’t mind one.’

Brody watched Jo move to the buffet table and study the selection of foods as if making a life-altering decision. That was Jo. Methodical. Smart. Careful. ‘I burned that bridge a long time ago.’

‘Rebuild it.’

Brody muttered an oath and something about needing another beer.

Jo had begged off another dance from Santos, crying hunger and fatigue. She stood with her plate of freshly cut cake, watching Jim and Lara dance. She was glad for them. They’d struggled but had found a way to make it work.

She bit into the cake, marveling at how good it tasted.

‘Cake good?’ Brody said as he came up beside her.

She presented her best professional smile. ‘If I had to confess a fault it would be that I love cake.’

Brody studied her. ‘I figured you as the perfect healthy eater. Lean protein, vegetables.’

‘I am. Unless I’m offered vanilla cake with a vanilla buttercream. And then I am helpless.’

‘I never knew that about you.’

The offhand comment caught her by surprise. ‘There’s a lot we don’t know about each other.’ She took a bite. ‘I haven’t heard anything on the case in the last couple of days. What’s going on?’

‘I been meaning to get up with you on that but been running full tilt. This might not be the place to get into it.’

She dropped her half-eaten cake in a trash barrel. ‘Now is as good a time as any. I called the prison. Smith is in a coma.’

He raised a coffee cup to his lips, halted and lowered his voice. ‘We had a second victim.’

The laughter and the music around her drifted away. ‘When?’

‘Several days ago. Found at a construction site. Handcuffed and buried.’

‘Who?’

‘A prostitute. We think the killer was one of her clients.’

‘There was no mention in the media.’

‘We’re keeping a tight lid on the story. The newspaper is how Smith and Robbie communicated the last time.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

Brody’s gaze held no hint of apology. ‘The order was that no one know.’

Jo was angry with Brody for not telling her. ‘I thought I was a part of this investigation.’

Brody shook his head. ‘This is my case, Jo.’

As much as she wanted to argue, she thought about the suffering this latest victim must have endured. Any grievance over how Brody handled this case felt trivial in the face of such pain. And still …

After a heavy moment of silence, Brody said, ‘Lara and Jim look happy.’

She wouldn’t let this tragedy or her wounded ego spoil a rare and wondrous day like today. ‘Yes.’

He cradled the coffee cup in his hand. ‘A far cry from our wedding day.’

She stiffened and glared up at him as if he’d confessed a sin. She wasn’t sure if the subject change was meant to distract her from terrible news or stoke her temper.

Brody arched a brow. ‘You look shocked. Think I forgot that day?’

‘No. I didn’t think you forgot. But it’s ancient history.’ She grabbed a second piece of cake.

He stared toward Jim and Lara dancing a slow dance. ‘Not so long ago.’

‘Fourteen years. A lifetime.’

Brody sipped his coffee. ‘It wasn’t the best time for us. For me.’

Anger and sadness that had been so neatly tucked away rose up. ‘No.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘I owe you an apology, Jo. That last time all those years ago … I was immature. Out of control.’

‘You were a dick,’ she said. Normally she censored her thoughts better, but he’d caught her by surprise.

‘That about sums it up. I was a dick. Said things that I never meant.’

A sigh shuddered from her. ‘If you never meant it, why say it?’

‘When I got the call you were in the hospital, I’d been out with my teammates drinking. We were celebrating my joining the Marines – my solution to our marriage and baby. When the nurse told me you’d miscarried, I was mad. Sad.’

Bitterness pulled at her. ‘You looked furious from what I remember.’

Apologies didn’t come easy for him. ‘I was ashamed. I was a poor excuse for a man.’

She faced him, her anger rising. ‘You accused me of not caring about the baby.’

‘You were cool and contained, and your mother had just reamed me out in the lobby. I came in swinging. When I saw how pale and fragile you were, I got madder at myself. I dumped that anger on your head.’

Jo shook her head.

‘I told my old man about what happened, and he threatened to put his foot up my ass.’

She’d dreamed about this apology for years, and he’d dropped it right in her lap. Over the years she’d imagined herself delivering the perfect line or having a witty response. She made her living using words, and right now she couldn’t find any to string together.

She knew enough about men, Rangers especially, that they were a proud lot. It had cost him to apologize and there had to be something in that. ‘Okay.’

He raised a brow. ‘That’s all?’

‘For now, yes.’

‘Sure you don’t want to take a swing? Call me another name?’

‘I’ll take a rain check, just in case.’

The muscle in his jaw tightened and released. ‘That’s fair. Be nice if we could find our way to being friends.’

‘I don’t know.’

The sharpness of his gaze mirrored the look he’d had at the crime scene. Laser sharp.

She shook her head. ‘Don’t turn me into one of your puzzles, Brody.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You are trying to figure me out like you try to figure out a killer when you’re at a crime scene. I saw that look the other day.’