Brody (Texas Boudreau Brotherhood Book 3) Read online

  Nica plopped into the chair across from Beth. “You get any sleep?”

  “A little. Thank you for staying with Jamie.”

  “No problem, she’s a sweetheart.”

  “You hear that, Mommy. I’m a sweetheart!” Jamie grinned and a tiny trickle of juice slid down her chin.

  “You are indeed, cutie pie. How about some toast, would you like that?”

  “Can I have—”

  “Nope, no waffles. Today, you get toast with butter and honey.”

  Jamie perked up at the word honey. She loved honey and if she had her way, it’d be slathered on everything she ate. It was one concession Beth allowed, because it was natural sugar, something she could control, rather than something loaded with all kinds of junk. Not that she’d been super-strict about Jamie’s diet lately, but she was happy her child wasn’t a finicky eater.

  Beth started to rise, and Ms. Patti motioned her back in her seat. With ease of long practice, she popped two slices of bread into the toaster, and pulled a bottle of honey from the cupboard. Within minutes, Jamie was chowing down on her toast.

  “Can you keep an eye on Jamie for a couple of minutes? I need to call Mrs. Gleason, let her know Jamie won’t be in for a day or two.”

  “Good idea,” Ms. Patti gestured Beth toward the door. “We’ve got this.”

  Pulling her cell phone from her pocket, Beth quickly apprised the kindergarten teacher about Jamie’s absence, the other woman understanding and offering help. It was one more reason she’d fallen in love with Shiloh Springs. They’d been welcomed with open arms from the moment they’d first visited, coming to stay with Tessa after the debacle with Evan. She’d been made to feel at home. It had been a major factor in her decision to relocate, second only to her sister living there.

  Glancing through the window of the living room, she spotted Douglas and Dane talking, their expressions serious. As she watched the two men, noting how similar they appeared, right down to their stance, a motorcycle roar could be heard roaring up the drive leading to the house, a lone rider straddling the sleek chrome and black machine. A black helmet obscured his face from view, yet somehow Beth knew this was somebody she’d never met before. He pulled to a stop beside Douglas and Dane, letting the engine of the great beast purr at a low rumble before cutting the engine. Straightening to his full height, he alighted and strode over to the two men, throwing his arms around Douglas in what could only be described as a bear hug, which he returned with a couple of thumps on the stranger’s back.

  Stepping back, he tugged the helmet off, revealing dark blond hair that easily brushed the collar of his black leather jacket. Taller than either man he stood with, he had to top close to six and a half feet, broad shoulders encased in black leather. Even through the window, air of danger surrounded him. He looked familiar. Somewhere she’d seen him before, and from the way Douglas greeted him, he was either a member of the family or somebody close.

  While Douglas and Dane headed toward the barn, the stranger strode toward the front door, his legs eating up the distance in long strides. There was a predatory grace in his walk, a controlled element of danger that sent a shiver down Beth’s spine. She didn’t want to get on the wrong side of this man.

  “Momma?” The word accompanied the opening of the front door, and Beth heard a sharp gasp from the kitchen before Ms. Patti came barreling into the hall.

  “Heath? Oh, my stars, Heath!”

  The tall man lifted Ms. Patti off the floor like she weighed nothing, spinning around in a circle, a huge grin on his face. “I’ve missed you. What’s for supper?”

  Ms. Patti swatted him on the chest. “Put me down. I can’t believe the first words out of your mouth are about food. Everybody else is eating breakfast, and you’re asking about supper.” She shook her head slowly, but Beth spotted her amused expression.

  “I have been dreaming about your chicken fried steak for the last fifteen hundred miles. East coast food just doesn’t taste as good as yours, Momma.” The distinct whine in his voice disappeared when he spotted Beth. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”

  Ms. Patti practically dragged him over to Beth. “Heath, this is Beth Stewart. Beth, this is my son, Heath. I’m not sure what he’s doing here, since he lives in Virginia.” Her eyes studied her son intently. “But I’m sure he’s gonna tell me—soon.”

  “Hello, Beth. Pleasure to meet you.” Beth stood still beneath his perusal, knowing he sized her up, as she did him.

  “Mommy, can I see the horses now?” Jamie full-speed dash skidded to a half and she shrank back at the edge of the hall when she spotted Heath, her expression wary.

  “Jamie, this is Heath, Ms. Patti’s son. He’s come to visit with her and Mr. Douglas.” Beth slid her arm around Jamie’s shoulder, pulling her against her side. Jamie stared up at the tall man, a mixture of trepidation and excitement flooding her expression.

  “Hello.” She looked up at Beth. “Am I supposed to call him Uncle Heath or Mr. Heath?”

  Heath squatted down, bringing him closer down to Jamie’s level, his smile filled with kindness and warmth. “Hi, Jamie. It’s very nice to meet you. If you’re a friend of my momma, I’d like it if you called me Uncle Heath.” He held out his hand, and Jamie reached forward, her smaller one engulfed in his outstretched one. Looking up at Beth, he winked, and Jamie knew he had to be a hit with the ladies. He seemed a natural-born flirt.

  Nica popped out of the kitchen, and nodded once to Beth, blew a smacking kiss to her brother, and Jamie followed her like a trained puppy. “Come on, pipsqueak, I’ll go to the barn with you.”

  “Come back to the kitchen and I’ll fix you some breakfast. I’ll need to take down some steaks, too, since it looks like I’m making chicken fried steak for supper.” Without waiting, Ms. Patti breezed past them, Beth and Heath following meekly in her wake.

  Beth refilled her mug, and got one for Heath too, figuring he could doctor it the way he liked it. He wrapped his hands around the mug, and studied her intently, a look of quiet speculation evident, which was quickly masked behind a cheeky grin.

  “What’s your story, pretty Beth? What brings you to the Boudreau house?”

  “I’ll fill you in later, Heath,” Ms. Patti interrupted, slapping a huge plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast in front of him. “And stop flirting with her, she’s taken.”

  Heath quirked a brow at her words, and Beth felt a wash of heat flood her face.

  “Taken, is she? Too bad.” He glanced at Ms. Patti. “Who?”

  “Brody.”

  “Ah.”

  Beth watched the back and forth, her eyes widening at Ms. Patti’s declaration. I’m taken? News to me.

  “I think I’ll go check on Jamie.” She headed for the back door like hellhounds had sprouted up through the kitchen floor, and half jogged, half walked toward the barn. Whew, that had been intense. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she’d overreacted to Heath’s arrival. He wasn’t the enemy. He wasn’t a threat to her daughter. The man had every right to be at the Boudreau homestead. It was his home, although if she remembered right, he lived in Virginia and worked in D.C. One of those government agencies with abbreviations, though she couldn’t remember which one.

  On reaching the barn, she took a deep breath, and pasted an excited expression on her face, ready to face her daughter and put on a happy front. Ms. Patti’s words ran through her head. They thought she belonged with Brody?

  Would it really be so bad to be loved by someone like Brody? He was caring, sweet. He loved her daughter. Without a doubt, he’s nothing like Evan.

  Somehow, the thought of being with Brody didn’t scare her, didn’t make her want to run screaming for the hills in the opposite direction. In fact, if she got the chance, she’d run toward him.

  This is crazy. We haven’t even been on a single date. Yet I can’t stop thinking about him, wanting to be near him. It can’t be wrong to feel this way. Oh, who am I kidding, we haven’t even ki
ssed.

  A bubble of excitement flitted through her, and she felt giddy. A flicker of hope raced through her, and she grasped it with both hands. No more running. No more hiding. No more refusing to live her life on her terms. Once she’d been a strong independent woman, capable of making her own decisions and running her life on her terms. Somehow over the years, she allowed Evan to turn her into a different person.

  Never again. Starting today, she was taking back her life. Grabbing hold with both hands to what she wanted, and never letting go.

  And what she wanted was Brody Boudreau.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Brody climbed out of the cab of the pickup and sprinted toward the smoldering ruins of the Summers’ barn. Plumes of white smoke spiraled upward from the charred remains, and he kicked at a clump of dirt, needing an outlet for his frustration and anger, but unwilling to show any emotion while Greg stood mere feet away.

  “What happened?”

  “I wish I knew. When I came by here yesterday, nothing had changed. Most of the barn burned, but some portions of the walls still stood. Now, here,” he pointed to a new pattern of burn wear, “there’s evidence of accelerant use. Here and here.”

  “Wait…wait! Are you telling me somebody burned this down a second time? I don’t understand. Are you saying this is arson? Why? Who? This doesn’t make any sense.” Greg started forward, and Brody grasped his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

  “You can’t go in there, Greg. It’s too dangerous. Besides, this is an active crime scene.”

  “Crime scene?” Shock laced Greg’s words, and all the color leeched from his face.

  “I wasn’t going to say anything yet, not until we have definitive proof from the lab in Austin, but, yes, we suspect arson.” He watched Greg closely, trying to gauge his reaction. He didn’t suspect his friend, but then again, he couldn’t automatically discount him. Hadn’t he shown up only hours after the barn had been torched again? Somebody was attempting to cover up their crime. Too bad he’d already collected all the samples and evidence and delivered it to the Arson Laboratory’s investigative teams in Austin.

  “Why? There’s nothing here but an abandoned, rundown barn and the house.” He turned abruptly and took off running toward the farmhouse, Brody on his heels. He caught up within a few yards, and pulled Greg to a stop, keeping him for getting any closer to his hold family home. With this second attempt at burning the barn, the entire Summers’ property was now considered an active scene, and he couldn’t let Greg get any closer to contaminate any evidence.

  “Stop, Greg. I need to call this in. I’m sorry, but you can’t go in there.”

  Greg’s head hung low, shoulders slumped. “I don’t understand, Brody. Who would do this?”

  “That’s what I’m going to find out. But you can’t be here, Greg. I’m going to call one of my brothers, get you a ride. I’ll need to ask you some questions, go over what we know thus far.”

  “Okay. Do what you need to do, find out who did this. Why they did this.” He paused and stared into the distance, and Brody wondered what he saw. It had to be hard; this was Greg’s childhood home. “I need to call Dad.”

  “I’ll handle it. I’m going to have them take you to the sheriff’s office, where we can talk without interruptions, okay?”

  “Whatever.” Greg shook his head, staring at the charred remains of his family’s barn. “I can’t believe this. I’ve wracked my brain trying to figure out why somebody burned the barn down in the first place. I figured maybe it was teens messing around, you know? Hiding out from their parents like we did when we were kids. Smoking a little pot. Maybe sneaking out here to meet with their girlfriends. But this? I don’t get it.”

  “We’ll figure it out, Greg. Now give me a second, and I’ll call someone for that ride.”

  It didn’t take long before he got hold of Chance. Since it was the weekend, his brother wasn’t in court, and agreed to pick Greg up and stay with him at Rafe’s office until Brody could get there. Within fifteen minutes, Greg was handled, and Brody called the fire station, and had Jeff Barnes meet him at the Summers’ barn.

  “Tell me what you see.”

  Jeff wrapped his hands in gloves and pointed toward the burned rubble. “Looks like accelerant use here and here.” He delineated the pattern Brody spotted earlier, confirming his suspicions. “New marks attempting to obscure the old burn pattern.” His eyes met Brody’s. “Somebody trying to cover their tracks maybe?”

  “That’s my thinking.”

  Jeff shook his head. “What’s so important about this place it merits not one, but two blazes? There’s something I’m not seeing here.”

  “I haven’t wrapped my head around that yet. But adding it to the two previous fires, and we’ve got a pattern emerging. One I don’t like.”

  “Me either, boss. You hear anything back from the lab yet?”

  Brody shook his head. “I put a rush on it, and left another message on their machine. Hoping they’ll call back before I question Greg.”

  “Greg? Greg Summers? What’s he doing in Shiloh Springs?”

  “He showed up this morning, wanting to see the place. That’s how we found out about the second burn.”

  “Gotcha. Guess it makes sense, seeing his family’s owned the property for decades. Bit of a coincidence though, him showing up without calling.”

  “Maybe. Can’t read too much into it, since his parents live in Florida now, and it would be difficult for them to come back to Texas. San Antonio’s not far, couple hours’ drive. It’s what I’d do, if it was me.”

  “I guess.” Jeff walked gingerly between the fallen debris, careful with each step not to disturb any evidence. Brody continued to be amazed at how far Jeff had progressed during his time with the fire station. Former military brat, he’d moved to Shiloh Springs a few years previous. He’d joined the fire department after six months or so. His father was a friend of Douglas’, having served together in the Army.

  “Gimme your gut instinct. Why this place? What makes it different than the other fires?”

  “Similarities, all abandoned properties. Hadn’t been lived in for several years. Out of the way locations for the most part, not on main roads or highways. No witnesses. But this one? It seems more—personal—for lack of a better word. I’m thinking gasoline for the accelerant, because that’d be easy to obtain. Whoever did this didn’t want anything left of the old place. Since the first fire didn’t destroy everything, they came back to finish the job. But, and here’s my question. Was it to destroy every square inch of the place, make it disappear for whatever personal reason the fire starter had? Or was this second fire done to try and cover up any trace and contaminate the findings of the first fire?”

  Brody shrugged, because he’d had the same questions, even if his gut was telling him it wasn’t an either/or question, more a how much of each reason contributed to the second blaze. They finished gathering up, packaging, and labeling evidence they could, and took numerous photos of the scene. Brody knew they’d be useful in comparing them to the first set of pics.

  “Can you load everything on the floor of my truck? I need to make some calls, see if I can gain some insight into this second attempt to destroy the site.” He wished he could catch a break, because he needed to catch this firebug before he set any more fires. Last thing Shiloh Springs needed was to get the citizenry up in arms about a serial arsonist roaming their streets.

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Pulling out his phone, he started to call Ben Summers, but stopped before he hit dial. Instead, he tapped the speed-dial for Beth.

  “Good morning, Brody.”

  “Did you get any sleep? How’re you doing this morning?”

  Beth chuckled and the sound did funny things to his insides. “Yes, I got some sleep, and I’m fine. Jamie’s gone out to the barn with Nica to see the horses, and I’m sitting here talking to your mother.”

  “She’ll take good care of you. Bet she’s already stuffed y
ou full of breakfast and asked what you want for lunch.”

  “Absolutely. Did you get any sleep?” The emphasis on you made him smile.

  “I got enough. Sorry I didn’t get to see you this morning, but I had to head with an old friend to look at his property.”

  “The one you’ve been worrying about? And don’t tell me you haven’t been worrying, because I can tell when you’re thinking about your job.”

  “Paid that much attention to me, have you?” At her indignant squawk, he rushed on. “You’re right. There’s been some stuff going on at work, and it’s kept me preoccupied, though not too much I haven’t thought about you. Speaking of, I’m sorry our date got derailed. Just so you know, this is only a postponement, and not a cancellation. You’re not getting out of taking me to dinner that easily.”

  He loved the sound of her laughter. Hearing it brightened any day, no matter how glum, and now was no exception. Jeff walked by with the evidence bags, heading for Brody’s truck, and he knew he had to cut things sort. Work called, and in his line of work that meant twenty-four seven. Didn’t matter it was a Saturday morning, fires burned without respect to scheduled days off.

  “Oh, I should probably tell you, I met your brother this morning.”

  “Which one?”

  “Heath.”

  He could practically hear the smile in her voice, and he bit back a possessive growl. “Didn’t know he was in town.”

  “He showed up this morning. He’s quite—something—isn’t he?”

  “Don’t fall for anything he says, Beth. Heath is the biggest flirt you’ll ever meet. I love my brother, but he’s definitely a ladies’ man.”

  “Oh, I figured that out pretty quick. And your mother set him straight.”

  Uh, oh. Heath must have been flirting up a storm if Momma stepped in. He smiled, picturing his diminutive mother standing up to the walking mountain and shaking her finger under his nose. She’d have to get a stepstool if she really wanted to get in Heath’s face, but she’d have no problem doing exactly that. Wouldn’t be the first time, and definitely wouldn’t be the last.