Minutes to Kill (Scarlet Falls #2)(30)

He went back to the car, pulled out his copy of Jane Doe’s receipt, and compared the two. The fonts and spacing were definitely different. He grabbed his list and marked off the two stores. This was pointless. He didn’t even know if the dead woman was a local. She could have bought those cigarettes fifty miles from Scarlet Falls. But what else was he going to do? He tossed the newspaper onto the passenger seat of his car.

The interior of the vehicle smelled like cherry tobacco, and the scent brought back bittersweet memories. His grandparents had been married for fifty-three years. In that time, they’d buried their only child and raised Brody. Despite their grief and the added pressure of unexpectedly being saddled with a young child, he’d never seen anything but love between them. Sure, they argued, but always with respect. They’d handled life’s traumas and dramas by supporting each other. In their eighties, they’d still held hands. Though Brody’s marriage hadn’t withstood the test, he knew what was possible. If he ever did it again, he wouldn’t settle for less.

Looking up, he stared at a Dunkin’ Donuts three doors down. Hannah Barrett and her supposed weakness popped into his head. She’d be alone today. After the incident in Vegas and that distressing e-mail, he should stop in and check on her. His desire to see her had nothing to do with the hollow space the Jane Doe case had left in his gut or the fact that he was suddenly, inexplicably thinking about his grandparents, his ex-wife, and the fact that he had no one on this earth to call family. But he knew instinctively that seeing Hannah would clear his mind of the violent reruns. So, what did that mean? Brody had spent most of the last eight years alone, but this was the first time he’d felt lonely.



Barking startled Hannah. She jerked to a sitting position. The remote hit the hardwood, and two AA batteries popped out and rolled under the sofa. AnnaBelle raced into the room, thrust her nose in Hannah’s face, and returned to the door. On the turn, her paws sent a throw rug sliding into the wall.

“What now?” Hannah blinked. The morning sun poured through the windows, nuclear-bright. “A squirrel on the porch?”

The ringing of the doorbell was punctuated by the dog going bonkers again.

This was domestic bliss? But even with the craziness, the thought of an impersonal room in a five-star London hotel, complete with a feather bed, blackout shades, and room service, held no appeal.

Hannah stood and stretched, her back aching. She must have dozed off after the deer incident. She went to the door and peered through the peephole. Brody stood on the porch. As if he knew she was looking, he raised a white box in his hands. Hannah’s gaze darted from the pink-and-orange logo to his face. Lean and weathered, he wasn’t classically handsome or polished like Royce, but if she was keeping score, Brody took all of the points for masculinity. Royce used far too many personal grooming products to be a manly man. But then, she’d been raised with military men. Bug-out packs had room for spare ammunition and MREs, not wrinkle cream or hair gel.

Brody grinned, and the tanned skin around his eyes crinkled. Her heart did a quick shimmy. She ran her tongue over her teeth. No time to run upstairs to freshen up. Wait. She did not preen for men. But she wanted to. She pressed a palm to her forehead.

Not feverish.

Scarlet Falls was a whirlpool, and Hannah was circling the drain. She needed to get the hell out of town before she was sucked under. Every moment she spent here, her job held less and less attraction. Maybe she was caught in a Doctor Who episode about parallel dimensions.

Resigned, she retreated to the kitchen to turn off the alarm, then opened the door. “Dunkin’ Donuts? That’s cheating.”

“Boston Kreme.” His smile faded as he scanned her face. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks.”

His gaze raked her from her slept-in jeans and sweater to her likely bed head. “Did I wake you?”

“No. Yes. It doesn’t matter.” Hannah pressed her fingertips to one closed eye. “What brings you here, Brody?”

His eyes flickered to his brown loafers. “I was passing by.”

Hannah snorted. “This house isn’t on the way to anywhere.”

Brody lifted a palm, feigning innocence. The sincerity in his warm brown eyes could almost convince her.

“I’m sorry. I’m a bitch before I’ve had my coffee. You’re welcome to come in if you like.”

“Thanks, I’d love to come in for a cup of coffee and a donut.” He stepped over the threshold, forcing Hannah backward.

With a sigh, she turned around and headed for the kitchen. “All right, but be warned. I need a shower, some sugar, and a vat of caffeine before I can hold a conversation without snapping off a head.”

“Fair enough.” He followed her back to the kitchen. She fed the dog and started a pot of coffee. Surveying the room, he set the bakery box on the counter. His sharp eyes paused on the gun and holster on the coffee table in the adjoining family room. Putting the gun away would have been a good idea. AnnaBelle scarfed her food and padded to the back door. Hannah snatched the leash from its hook.

“Grant and Ellie just let her outside by herself,” Brody said.

Hannah stomped into a pair of her brother’s boots standing by the back door. “I am not taking a chance of losing Carson’s dog while the kid’s in Disney World. I have one job while I’m here, and that kid has already lost too much. Yesterday I couldn’t get her to come in, and last night she went nuts over a deer in the yard. I don’t need her running off after the wildlife.” She contemplated a row of jackets hanging on wall hooks. “Is it cold out?”