Matt—The Callahan Brothers (Brazos Bend Book 2) (17 page)

Torie blinked. “You want me to meet your father? The same father who at the rehab hospital told my sister that if he ever got within arm’s length of me, he’d wrap his hands around my throat and choke me dead?”

“Uh ... yeah. That’s him.”

“And now he wants me to take a picture of his dog?”

“Well, not exactly.”

The expression on Matt’s face told Torie to brace herself. “He thinks you’re Helen.”

Hmm. “And he believes this, why?”

“Well, that’s what I told him.”

The pang of hurt caught her off guard. “I thought you hated the whole twins-switching-identities thing.”

“I do. But he called me a little while ago all but foaming at the mouth because he’d heard you were in town. He threatened to come over here brandishing a gun. It seemed easier to calm him down by telling him he’d heard wrong, that the Bradshaw who’d come to Brazos Bend was Helen, not you. I just ... well ... he walked in on me and Helen one time and ever since ... well ... he thinks I have a thing for her.”

Everything in Torie went cold. Had her sister lied to her? Had last night been some sort of twin fantasy for Matt? It was bad enough to be a one-night stand, but had she been nothing more than sloppy seconds? “He walked in on you and Helen. Walked in on you doing what?”

He shrugged. “It was a kiss. That’s all.”

That’s what Helen had said, but now Torie wasn’t so sure. Feeling peeved, the last thing she wanted to do was walk downstairs and pretend to be her sister.

“I’ve used the name Vicky Bradshaw here. Someone will tell him.”

“But you’ll be gone by then and I’ll have avoided a scene. Look. Do this for me and I’ll owe you one. That’s a good marker to have in your pocket, Victoria.”

He had a point. A girl with a stalker on her tail couldn’t exactly turn down markers. “All right, Callahan. It’s a deal. Let’s just hope that neither one of us regrets it.”

***

The look in Torie’s eyes made Matt nervous. But then, he’d been jumpy as a scalded cat all morning long anyway, so this wasn’t any different.

Last night hadn’t turned out like he’d expected. Going into it, he’d thought he’d have no trouble loving her, then seeing her leave. This morning, his world seemed uncomfortably different, and now his father’s presence added one more bump in an already rough road. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

“Don’t take anything he says seriously,” he warned her. “Just take the photo as quickly as you can and stick him on the sitting fee. I recommend you charge him at least three times the fee you’re charging the others, although if it were me, I’d go for five.”

“What’s the matter with the dog?” she asked. “Is he dangerous?”

“He’s a ...” Matt winced. “Pomeranian.”

“Ah.” Her mouth quirked with a grin. “Another ... what’s your term? Purse pet?”

He shook his head. “It’s downright embarrassing. Anyway, my father will pepper you with questions, probably talk marriage, but just ignore him. I’ll deal with his nonsense.”

“How?”

“Matthew?” bellowed the voice from downstairs.

Matt knew that if it weren’t for the state of Branch’s knees, his father would already be upstairs. “I’ll wing it. Don’t worry.”

When Torie abruptly nodded, then grabbed her camera bag in one hand, her mutt in the other, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“I do have one condition,” she warned. Depositing Gigi in his arms, she added, “You have to make friends.”

The blasted dog bit him on his right middle finger. Matt gritted his teeth and said, “Sure.”

Torie led the way, and looking over her shoulder, Matt saw Branch waiting at the foot of the staircase. At his first glimpse of Torie, a smile started on his face that grew with every step she took. By the time she reached the ground floor his father’s smile was so big Matt thought it might split Branch’s face in two.

“Helen Bradshaw,” Branch said. “Still as pretty as a Parker County peach. Please tell me you’ve come to town to marry my boy.”

Torie looked at Matt, her brow arched. He heard the echo of her voice in his mind.
Marry my boy? Gonna answer that one, G-man?

Matt’s jaw hurt from the pressure he’d put on his teeth. He consciously unlocked his jaw and said, “Branch, like I explained before, Helen stopped to say hello as she passed through town.”

“Now, that’s a bunch of road apples. No one just passes through Brazos Bend. It’s on the way to nowhere. She’s here to see you, Matthew—admit it. I’ll bet y’all have been seeing each other on the sly all this time. You just wanted to surprise me, didn’t you, son?”

“No.”

“Matt’s right. I just stopped to say hello. You actually caught me on my way out of town.” Torie smiled politely and held out her hand. “It’s nice to see you again, sir.”

“Ah, to heck with a handshake.” Branch put Paco on the ground, saying, “C’mere, girl. Let an old man give you a proper welcome to the family.”

Supporting his weight with the cane in his right hand, Branch pulled Torie into a hug with his left. Seeing Branch teeter, Matt dumped Gigi onto the ground and reached to steady his father.

Gigi and Paco took an immediate and noisy dislike to each other. Matt suspected the stupid miniature cowboy hat Branch had strapped onto his dog’s head had something to do with it. That’d put any self-respecting male into a pissy mood.

As Paco yapped incessantly, Torie shot Matt a chastising look. She broke the hug and scooped Gigi up into her arms. After making sure Branch wasn’t about to lose his balance, Matt retrieved the mutt from his mistress’s arms, receiving another finger nip in the process. “Tell me her shots are up-to-date?” he asked Torie.

While she rolled her eyes and nodded, Branch told his Paco to be still. “He’s ordinarily a quiet little man. Guess he’s trying to show off for the ladies.”

Torie’s answering smile was strained. “Matt, maybe you should take Gigi upstairs. It’s not good for her to get excited before a long car ride.”

“Long car ride?” Branch repeated, his brow creasing in concern. “What long car ride? You’re not going anywhere, are you? You just got here!”

“Dad, haven’t you listened to a word we said?”

Branch broke into a smile. “You called me Dad. Helen, did you hear that? He called me Dad. God bless you, it must be your influence. He’s mellowed. I knew the first time I met you that you’d be perfect for him.”

Matt closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. Paco continued to bark. Branch made stupid little clucking sounds that the dog totally ignored. Gigi peered down at Paco and started yipping in that superior manner common to females of all species.

“Take her upstairs and put her in her carrier,” Torie instructed Matt. “She’ll sleep and we’ll have some peace.”

Matt gladly escaped back upstairs to her room. He didn’t see a pet carrier on her bed, though, just a suitcase and a big purse.

A purse. For the purse pet.

By the time he pried the pooch’s teeth off his finger, settled it into the cushioned bag, and returned downstairs, Torie had moved his father and the mini-monster-dog outside. He stepped out the door in time to hear his father ask, “So when is the wedding?”

“Mr. Callahan ....”

“Call me Branch.”

“Branch. Your son and I aren’t getting married.”

His brow furrowed and he frowned. “Well, I won’t have you living in sin. Y’all might have gotten away with that in Washington, but not in Brazos Bend.”

“Branch, enough,” Matt insisted. “Helen doesn’t have time to waste. If you want pictures, you need to let her work.”

“Oh, I definitely want pictures,” Branch replied. “Matthew tells me you’re an excellent photographer, Helen.”

“Oh, really?” She glanced at Matt.

“I’m sure you’re better than that sister of yours, may the good Lord curse the day she was born. I admit that at first I was a little worried about your relationship with Matt, considering That Damned Woman is your twin, but I decided what the heck. Every family has a black sheep.”

“At least,” she commented, her tone bone dry.

“I have a hobby, myself,” Branch continued. “I’ve taken an interest in writing. I’m putting together a history of my life for my boys. I enjoy it. I imagine you find photography to be a nice change from scientific research. I can see how one might lend itself to the other. Both disciplines require creativity of a sort, don’t they?”

After a moment’s silence, Torie offered him a genuine, if reluctant, smile. “That’s perceptive of you, sir. I’ve always felt the two shared a connection, though other people don’t see it.”

Matt sensed that was a barb directed at him, but it was misplaced. He might not like what she did for a living, but he wouldn’t argue with her talent. In the months following the shooting, he’d made it his business to find out everything he could about Torie Bradshaw and that included compiling a portfolio of her pictures. The woman had a gift. It was a shame she wasted it on celebrities. “Your regular work is very good, but I watched you with the children this morning. I’ll bet those photographs turn out to be some of the best work you’ve ever done.”

“Just wait until you see Paco through a camera lens,” Branch declared. “He’ll put those little rug rats to shame.”

Torie looked from Branch to Matt, then back to Branch again. Shaking her head, she said, “Let’s get to work, then, shall we? Do you want bluebonnet photos for Paco or something else?”

“I definitely want bluebonnets. I want something to pull out at bingo along with everyone else. Most folks my age have grandchildren to show off. Any chance you and my Matthew will solve that problem for me anytime soon?”

“No,” they responded together.

“Well, I can’t help but hope. Luke and Maddie aren’t getting the job done. I thought for sure they’d have made me a granddaddy by now, but I’m still waiting. I’d love to have a whole passel of grandchildren.” Branch smiled wistfully, and his voice sounded sad as he added, “Especially a granddaughter. My wife and I weren’t blessed with any girls.”

He’d certainly regretted having sons, hadn’t he? Matt buried the bitter thought, then tuned his father out as Branch continued whining about his lack of grandchildren. He’d heard it all before, more times than he could count. He probably should have given Torie a heads-up on that, as well, but it was too late now.

“Speaking of too late,” he murmured to himself, glancing at his wristwatch. Mark should have called again by now. He’d landed in LA more than three hours ago, and he’d said he’d call in just as soon as he checked out Torie’s apartment. He’d had plenty of time to get the job done.

Matt motioned to Bill Reynolds to take charge of the watch; then he stepped around to the side of the house to block the noise from an overexcited Paco. Pulling out his cell phone, he punched in his brother’s number. On the third ring, a woman’s voice answered, “Hello?”

A woman? Damn. He had a bad feeling about this. “I’m calling for Mark Callahan?”

“May I ask who’s calling, please?”

“This is his brother Matt Callahan. Who am I speaking with?”

“Oh, Mr. Callahan. One moment, please.”

Matt gripped the phone hard and listened harder.

His stomach did a nervous churn. What was that background noise? Not an outdoor sound. Beeping. What was beeping?

A man’s voice asked, “Mr. Callahan?”

“Yes. What the hell is going on? Where’s my brother?”

“I’m Captain Frank Hollis of the LAPD.”

Matt closed his eyes and braced himself.

“Your brother is one lucky man.”

Matt’s eyes flew open. “He’s okay?”

“He has a concussion, some bruises, and a few cuts from flying glass, and a broken arm, but the doctors say he’ll make a full recovery.”

“What happened!”

“There was an explosion. Whole place went up. Honestly, I don’t know how the man survived. He must be tough as nails.”

“What place went up? Please, Captain. A few more details would be appreciated right now.”

The police captain obviously didn’t care for the implied criticism because his tone went cool and clipped. “Approximately one hour ago, a natural gas explosion occurred in a fourplex in Santa Monica. From what we’ve been able to piece together so far, your brother entered one of the apartments and somehow triggered the explosion.”

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“As far as we’ve been able to ascertain at this point, no. Although one occupant is as yet unaccounted for.”
 

Sensing the name he was about to hear, Matt shut his eyes.
 

“A woman by the name of Victoria Bradshaw.”

Well, hell.

Chapter Ten

Los Angeles

Well, now. That was a disappointment.

From an apartment kitty-corner to Torie Bradshaw’s home, the stalker watched the last ambulance pull away from the curb and sighed. An unexpected development, that. An unexpected disappointment.

Two days of waiting, then kaboom. Destruction. Chaos. It had thrilled. Empowered. Well worth the wait.

The temptation to join the crowd of gawkers that gathered to watch had been strong, but better sense prevailed. While sirens wailed and women cried, laughter bubbled, ringing out through the apartment.