Brant (Members From Money Season 2 #167)

Chapter 1

"He needs help, Indigo, one that you surely cannot give him.

" Sheriff Campbell hiked his belt over the sagging weight of his belly and shifted his feet.

"I'm friends with your family and God knows you've been through a hell of a lot-" He cleared his throat and shifted his feet again. "A heck of a lot," he amended.

"Your daddy was my very good friend and what happened was a damn shame. A damn shame indeed. But that boy in there needs to go to rehab and try and get clean. We've been giving him a free pass over the last few busts-"

"I really appreciate everything you've done, Sheriff." Indigo stifled the urge to scream her lungs out. They were in the waiting room of Hope General and had been given privacy by the doctors.

"Ahem." He cleared his throat and wished he were anywhere else. He had done his duty as an officer of the law and a friend to his dearly departed friend, but there was a limit to what he was allowed to do without stepping outside said duty.

Caleb Shepherd had been caught again with enough drugs on his person to charge him with intent to distribute.

He had also been stoned out of his mind.

The halfway house which had been busted by his officers was condemned and in a deplorable state.

Sheriff Campbell had been appalled at how far his friend's son had sunk.

"He needs rehabilitation." Hitching his pants up again, he sat gingerly on the edge of the chair across from her.

He could feel her pain. The thirty-year-old young woman seated across from him had gone through more heartache and trouble than anyone should be facing.

She had slowly lost her dad after a bullet had damaged his spine.

He had declined rapidly, dying when his organs started failing.

Then his wife had been struck down with dementia, which had quickly started her on a downward spiral. Campbell suspected that Jeremiah Shepherd getting shot that fateful night at the dealership he had been managing had been the beginning of the end for the family.

"It has to be a state run-"

"My dear." Reaching out, he patted her folded hands awkwardly. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the court-mandated rehab centers are pure crap. Excuse my French." He harrumphed. "He needs quality, somewhere he can get the best care, one-on-one attention, if he's to kick the habit."

"And all of that spells money I don't have," she reminded him bitterly.

"I understand you're having some troubles of your own." He smiled at her in apology. "The wife is a fan of that delightful shop of yours, and you told her you would soon be out of business. It's a shame, really. You were doing so well."

"Thanks, Sheriff Campbell, for everything."

"You're welcome." He patted her hands again before rising a little stiffly.

"Well-" He cleared his throat again and coughed behind his fist. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"I do. Thanks." She managed a smile before leaning her head back and closing her eyes in despair.

She had received the call while she was at the shop. Caleb had been arrested again, and this time it was very serious. He had overdosed and was being rushed to the hospital. She had tried.

She loved her brother, and it pained her to see what he was doing to himself.

He had taken their father's death hard, but it was losing their mother to the disease that ate away at her brain that had dealt the final blow.

He had started using as soon as he realized how rapidly she had declined.

She had started losing track of time and, soon after that, had not recognized her own children.

Blinking back the tears, she levered herself up and decided that she needed caffeine. She was going to speak to the doctors and try and sit with him for a while, but she needed some space and time.

She was just heading towards the cafeteria when she heard her name.

Stopping, she turned towards the sound and felt a jolt of surprise at the familiar face.

"I thought that was you. Hi." A quick smile of genuine pleasure lit up his tawny eyes as Brant O'Keefe walked towards her.

"Brant."

He clasped her hand briefly, eyes scouring her face and noticing the weariness etched there. "How are you, and what are you doing here?"

"My brother-" She struggled to say the rest and just lapsed into silence.

"Why don't I buy you a cup of coffee?" he suggested. Before she could accept or refuse as she was about to do, he took her arm and steered her into the almost empty cafeteria.

"What are you having?"

"A Coke."

"Grab us a table. I'll be right back."

She found one near the entrance and sat down. She really didn't want to unburden herself, especially to Brant O'Keefe, a man who was an intrinsic part of her past and a very painful reminder of what had transpired then.

Before she had time to think on it, he was back and sliding into the seat across from her. He handed her the can of Coke before popping open the top of his. Curious golden eyes were leveled at her. "What's wrong with your brother?" he asked her quietly.

Taking a sip of her Coke, she contemplated how much she should tell him.

"He has a drug problem."

He gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm really sorry to hear that. I know you lost your mother as well."

"Last year." She drank some more Coke. "Caleb could not handle the fact that her mind was gone. They were very close, you see, and it affected him greatly." She managed a smile. "What brings you here?"

"I was visiting a friend." He hesitated before plunging on. "Look, I've been planning to reach out. I know what your dad did for mine and realize that we probably haven't done enough to show our appreciation."

"You did enough," she told him firmly. "You paid for all of his medical expenses, and you had your own grief to contend with. I was sorry to hear about your dad."

Brant smiled grimly. "After escaping a gunshot, he was killed by a drunk driver. Life is certainly not fair." He shook his immaculately cut sable-brown head. "And I'm preaching to the choir. What will happen to him? Your brother?"

She shrugged. "He will have to go to rehab. The sheriff was a friend of my parents and has been bending over backwards to make certain he does not end up in prison, but there's only so much he can do and no more."

"Let me help," Brant said suddenly.

"What?"

"Your dad took a bullet for mine. The least I can do is try and help your brother out. Let us pay for his stay at the rehab. There are some excellent ones available. You can do your research and let me know which one suits him best."

"I appreciate the offer-"

"But you have your pride." He reached over to put a hand on hers. "There's a time and place for it, and now's not the time."

"You don't understand-"

"Then why don't you explain it to me?"

His phone went off just then. Plucking it from the pocket of his sports jacket, he glanced at the screen, a frown touching his brow.

"Please excuse me. I have to take this."

"And I have to go."

"Indigo, just... dammit. Please give me a few minutes."

It took more than a few minutes, and by the time he returned, she had left.

"What?" she blurted out when her friend continued to stare at her.

Indigo had practically flown from the hospital after peeking in at her brother and came straight to the sports bar and grill, owned and operated by her best friend.

"You know what." At this time of day, the place was practically empty, with the lunch crowd already gone and the dinner crowd a few hours away from making an appearance.

Pouring them both two glasses of Cabernet, Juliet rounded the solid oak counter to come and sit next to her. "The man offered you money."

"No. He offered to pay for rehab for Caleb," she corrected, taking the glass of wine. "The family helped out more than they should. Not only did they pay for dad's medical expenses-"

"Which they damn well were entitled to do."

"They also paid for his funeral expenses."

"Honey, your father took a bullet for Benjamin O'Keefe. I'd say that forking over the money to pay for his medical bills and funeral expenses was a small price to pay, especially since the family is loaded."

Shaking her head, Indigo picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. "It's not that simple." She took another sip and felt the bitterness rising like bile in her throat. "Daddy had a death wish."

"Now-"

"It's true." The painful truth flooded her being and left her weak. "He had a gambling problem and was in over his head. He had lost all our savings. The bullet wasn't meant for Benjamin O'Keefe; it was meant for my dad."

"You don't know that."

"Yes." Indigo drank some more to quench her parched throat. "I found the diary, remember? He documented everything. People were looking for him. He was weak and selfish. I loved him, and ever since I was a little girl, I thought he walked on water."

She blinked away the tears. "The O'Keefes decided not to go ahead with the investigation.

Did you know Mr. O'Keefe went to the dealership to try and get to the bottom of what was going on with dad?

He did that because he was a good man, and there was an audit, one that showed large sums of money missing.

Dad made cash deals with some shady people and was in over his head.

I could not sit there and accept help from Brant, knowing what I do. "

Taking a deep breath, Juliet reached across and squeezed her hand. "Honey, what are you going to do? You know I would let you come and stay with me, but the circumstances are not the best. I think Derek is cheating on me."

"Oh, Jules."

Her friend smiled bitterly. "He blames me that we're unable to have children."

"That's ridiculous, and he's an asshole," Indigo exclaimed angrily.

"An asshole that still holds my heart." She sighed. "We used to be badasses in high school."

"We had to be," Indigo reminded her. "I'm a size eighteen, and you were a toothpick. Still are. We made a very odd combination. People were picking on us, constantly."