Fury on Fire (Devil's Rock #3)(42)

“He looks . . .”

She held her breath, waiting for her brother to say something condemning about him. Criminal. Dangerous.

Working in law enforcement, Hale did have those opinions, after all. He’d seen it all. Sweet Hill might not be the largest community, but it had its share of degenerates. And it would be just her luck for him to make that assessment.

North turned and started mowing another row, facing them now. She felt his brown-black gaze on her—on them. It wasn’t friendly and she felt her brother tense beside her as he recognized this, too.

“Familiar,” Hale finally finished saying. “He looks familiar.”

Familiar? Uh-oh. Whatever she had thought he meant to say hadn’t been that. Had he seen mug shots of North?

“Maybe he’s just got one of those faces,” she said offhandedly and tried to move inside her house, ready to say goodnight and watch Hale drive off in his Bronco.

Hale didn’t take the bait. He shot her a skeptical look, his feet staying firmly planted in place. “I’m going to introduce myself.”

“Hale, no,” she snapped, grabbing his arm as he moved to step forward.

And that, she knew, was her mistake.

Her brother looked down at her hand on his arm, then back to her face, frowning slightly, his gray eyes narrowing.

So much for acting casual.

She dropped her hand, but it was too late. She had overreacted. Being a people person was part of his job—talking to people was no big deal. Her brother introduced himself to people every day in an effort to assess, disarm and acquaint himself with the community. She knew that. Her dad had been the same way. It was no big deal.

Hale squared his shoulders and stepped forward, walking down the driveway at an easy amble that she knew was in direct opposition to his investigative mood.

North saw him coming and shut off the lawnmower. The late-evening sun kissed his glistening skin and made her stomach twist. Would there ever be a time when the sight of him did not hit her hard? A day when she could walk up her driveway after work and not glance to his front door with hope for a glimpse of him humming through her?

He wiped at his brow, revealing the paler, muscled underside of his arm. Her stomach quivered. No, she realized with a flash of anger. That day would never come. A sense of hopelessness swept over her. Was she destined to be one of those women that fell for the wrong kind of man? She’d never thought that of herself. She thought she had more self-respect than that.

North schooled his expression to reveal nothing as her brother approached. Only she sensed the edge to him, the wariness as he assessed her brother back, his brown gaze skimming over her brother’s uniform. Of course he hadn’t missed the fact that her brother was law enforcement.

She followed a few feet behind Hale, dread curling through her as he stuck out his hand.

“Hey, there. Hale Walters.” He inclined his head in her direction. “Faith’s brother.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Relief? Surprise? Whatever she thought she saw vanished almost as instantly as it appeared.

North nodded as he finished shaking Hale’s hand. Dropping his hand back at his side, he stood back.

“I was just telling Faith that you look familiar.” Hale gestured aimlessly in a way that made him appear nonchalant. Except she knew Hale wasn’t nonchalant. He missed nothing.

Hale continued, “I like to think I’m good with names and faces, but I encounter lots of people on the job.” He angled his head, his sharp gray eyes speculative. “For the life of me, I can’t place you.”

“I’m sure my name will ring a bell,” North said in that rumbly voice of his.

She started a little in bewilderment. Had North just confirmed that they did in fact know one another?

“I was a year ahead of you in high school,” North added.

Hale laughed, his body instantly relaxing. “That so?”

Oh. No. No no no. The dread thickened in her veins.

“Yeah.” North looked at her, his grim gaze seeming to convey that there was no avoiding the truth now. “I remember you and your brother . . . he was a year ahead of me.”

Tucker? He knew him, too?

“Didn’t realize you had a sister though.” North looked at her and no mistake about it. There was something accusatory in his stare. As though he should have somehow known this about her. It was unlikely for him to have made the connection on his own. They hadn’t exactly gotten around to swapping family histories.

She lifted her chin in defiance. Why would it have come up? Walters was a common enough name.

“Faithy was a freshman my senior year, so you would have graduated by then,” Hale volunteered. “What was your name again?”

He still hadn’t said his name. Once he did Hale was bound to know . . . bound to remember who he was and what he had done. There weren’t too many murders committed in Sweet Hill. And even less of them committed by guys that attended high school with her brother. North must just look that different . . . that much harder than the teenage boy he once was.

“North Callaghan.”

Hale went still.

She held her breath. Her brother didn’t speak, but she knew he was remembering, putting together all the pieces.

It seemed forever before he said anything at all. “You and your brother killed Mason Leary,” he finally said, his voice flat.