Chapter Ten
The scent of coffee pulled Remi from sleep.
She shifted, her muscles stiff from too many hours spent on the too-small sofa in Brody’s home office.
They’d worked late, combing through everything they knew, analyzing footage, piecing together every fragment of the puzzle.
She must have crashed at some point, exhaustion finally dragging her under.
She blinked awake to find Brody standing over her, two steaming mugs of that coffee in his hands.
He had showered, his dark hair damp, the scent of soap and something unmistakably him drifting in the air.
The last time she had seen him he’d been falling asleep at his desk, and Remi had no idea how long he’d been up.
For a split second, while she considered the coffee in a sleepy haze and started clearing out the mental cobwebs, she remembered the hug. The way his arms had wrapped around her. The solid, steady feel of him.
The way it had felt like more.
Remi sat up, forcing the memory aside, but as she looked at Brody, she caught the shift in his expression. The flicker of something unspoken in his eyes. Like maybe he was remembering it, too.
Or, better yet, looking as if he didn’t want to remember it.
Yes, he’d feel that, all right. Heat and guilt, not a good combination, but Remi figured both were there. Heat he didn’t want to feel when it came to her and the guilt he felt for the wanting. That heat probably felt like a betrayal to Miranda.
With that uneasy thought going through her head now, Remi reached for the coffee Brody held out, her fingers brushing against his for a second before he let go. The warmth seeped into her hands, waking her up faster than she would have liked.
“Thanks,” she murmured, taking a sip. Strong. Just how she needed it.
Brody took a seat across from her, his own mug in hand. He looked as exhausted as she felt, dark shadows under his eyes, tension lining his jaw. But he was steady, just like always.
“One of my deputies dropped off some clothes for you,” he said, taking a drink of his coffee and tipping his head to a backpack that was sitting on his desk. “Toiletries, too. You’re welcome to use the guest room if you want to shower.”
She took another sip before nodding. “Thanks. I’ll take you up on that in a bit.” She let a beat pass before shifting gears. “How’s the baby?”
Remi saw the hint of a smile. “Good,” he said in a way that she knew meant far more than good. Brody’s son was already the new center of his world, just as he should be. But there was a shadow in his happiness. A horrible dark shadow since his other son was still missing.
“Any news about the investigation?” she asked.
The slight change in Brody’s expression told her everything she needed to know before he even answered. Frustration flickered in his eyes, tightening the lines around them.
“No,” he answered on a huff.
Definitely frustrated, and Remi was feeling it, too. Despite working through most of the night, they had gotten nothing on the traffic cameras. Tarrant had slipped into an alley and disappeared. They hadn’t been able to pick him up on any other feed around the crime scene.
But they had managed to spot him on traffic cams earlier in the evening.
He’d been in a car near Christina’s neighborhood, and that likely explained how Tarrant had known that she and Brody had gone to Langley’s clinic.
Tarrant had followed them, tried to kill them and then had escaped.
The cops were looking for his car, but Remi figured Tarrant had ditched it by now.
So frustrating.
Langley was also in that category of frustrating things. San Antonio PD had questioned him, but he hadn’t given them anything useful. He’d claimed he didn’t know who sent the text from the unknown number, didn’t know where Tarrant was and had nothing to do with any of this.
“What about the fire?” she pressed. “Anything there?”
Brody shook his head. “Nothing there either. Fire investigators determined someone, likely Tarrant, broke a window, set the fire and took off. It was a way to get us running out of the building.”
Yes, and it had worked like a charm. The only part of his plan that had failed was that she and Brody were still alive.
Brody set his coffee down on the desk and muttered some profanity under his breath. “I’ve tried calling Langley, Christina, and Eloise,” he said. “None of them are answering.”
Remi frowned and checked the time on her phone: seven o’clock. Not the earliest she’d ever been up, but early enough that it could explain why three of their suspects weren’t picking up their phones. Still, she didn’t like it.
“They could just be asleep,” she suggested, though the words felt hollow even as she said them.
Brody clearly wasn’t convinced either. “Yeah. Or they don’t want to answer.”
Remi took another sip of coffee, considering. “Which one do you want to visit first?”
“Eloise,” he said without a moment of hesitation.
That settled it. Remi pushed to her feet, draining the rest of her coffee. “Then, I’d better get moving.”
She grabbed the backpack that Brody’s deputy had dropped off and started toward the stairs. As she moved through the house, she caught sight of Holt by the front window, standing watch, his shoulders squared in quiet vigilance.
A reminder the threat hadn’t passed.
That someone had set up a distraction last night, the alleged breach in security at Brody’s house, and that whoever was behind it wasn’t done yet.
Remi took the fastest shower of her life, scrubbing away the exhaustion and tension clinging to her skin. By the time she dressed and made her way downstairs, she felt more awake, more focused. They had work to do, and wasting time wasn’t an option.
She stepped into the kitchen and stopped when she took in the scene.
Brody stood by the kitchen island, holding his son.
The baby was nestled close, his tiny fingers curling against Brody’s shirt.
Sandra moved around the kitchen, assembling breakfast sandwiches and wrapping them in foil.
This looked normal. Routine. As if Brody and his mom had been doing this much longer than a handful of hours.
Sandra glanced up as Remi entered, and gave a small smile. “You can eat on the drive to San Antonio.”
Remi nodded her thanks, but her focus shifted back to Brody. He wasn’t talking, just looking down at his son with a proud-daddy softness in his expression. Sandra noticed, too. She smiled again, but Remi could feel the undercurrent of nerves beneath it.
Brody finally glanced up at her. “We’re calling him Joe,” he said. “After my grandfather. We’ll figure out the other name when we have him,” he added, his voice dropping slightly.
When. Not if.
There was pure determination flaring in his eyes as he pressed a kiss to Joe’s forehead, then carefully lifted him toward Sandra.
Sandra passed the wrapped sandwiches to Remi and took the baby in her arms. “I’ll take care of this little man. You two be careful out there.”
Brody nodded. “We will,” he said, already moving.
Remi followed Brody out the door, the morning air cool against her skin as they headed straight for the cruiser. One of the other deputies was parked outside in a second cruiser, and he was obviously keeping watch, ready to respond if there was another threat.
Remi prayed there’d be no more threats to the baby. This investigation was hard enough without adding that into the mix. She only hoped that once they’d made this half hour drive to Eloise’s maybe she would be able to tell them something useful.
And if Eloise was the one who’d orchestrated this nightmare?
Then, maybe they could learn enough from the woman to find the twin and then arrest her.
For now, though, they had to stay vigilant.
Because while Eloise or someone else could be pulling the strings to force her and Brody to find Tarrant and kill him, Tarrant was ready and willing to take them out before they could get to him.
Not exactly a comforting thought.
But it was the reason that Remi kept watch as Brody drove.
She stole a glance at Brody. He was gripping the wheel tighter than necessary, his jaw set, eyes fixed on the road ahead. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy with worry.
“Why didn’t Miranda tell me she had cancer?” he blurted, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere.
It surprised Remi, but she was certain it surprised him, too. Brody had probably been trying to keep that question in his head but hadn’t succeeded.
“Why keep it secret from me?” he added, frustration seeping into his words. “Didn’t she trust me?”
Remi blew out a long breath. She’d known this was eating at him, but she also knew finding out about the twins had ripped open an old wound.
“Miranda trusted you,” Remi said, choosing her words carefully. It was always like walking on eggshells when they were talking about Miranda. “That wasn’t the issue.”
Brody’s knuckles flexed against the steering wheel. He didn’t say anything, but she knew he was waiting for more.
“She didn’t tell you because she knew you wouldn’t approve of her not getting treatment,” Remi admitted, though this wasn’t a news flash to him. “She knew you’d fight her on it. That you’d push. She didn’t want that.”
Brody let out a harsh breath, shaking his head. “Damn right I would have pushed. She could have—” He swallowed hard.
Remi stared ahead, watching the road pass in a blur. “I didn’t approve of it either,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t my secret to tell.”
Brody’s hands tightened even more on the wheel. “If we’d done something, we could have saved her.”
Remi turned toward him then, meeting his gaze when he flicked a quick glance in her direction. “You don’t know that,” she said gently. “Even if she’d had treatment, there were no guarantees.”
Brody exhaled, his frustration palpable. “Still would’ve been worth trying.”
Remi didn’t disagree. But they both knew Miranda had made her choice. And there was nothing they could do to change it now.