Serial Games (Virginia Justice Book One) (19 page)

Brandon pinched the bridge of his nose, and shut his eyes. “Dad—” He gritted his teeth, unable to continue.

Anger threatened to erupt. Why did Emily have to die? They were in love…
She was going to be my wife
. It should have been him. Then Emily would be alive, living a fruitful life. What was he still doing here? Chasing a phantom?

His father quoted a familiar verse. “Whatever we think we know, we only see a small piece of the puzzle, Brandon. Our lives are not without sorrow, not without pain, but should not be without love.”

Brandon remained silent. It had been a while since his father quoted scripture to him, especially in reference to his pain over Emily’s passing. With a pang of guilt, he remembered the last time when he forcefully told his father he didn’t want to hear any references to faith and he had no desire to feel better. His father responded by accusing him of wallowing in self-pity — and he’d been right. Maggie’s words hit him: happiness was a choice. He did a pretty good job of making life miserable. He just didn’t know how to release his anger…didn’t know how to live without it.

Brandon thanked his father for calling and hung up. He needed sleep and if he didn’t start the trek to his room now, he might pass out on the very spot Maggie did. He smarted as he remembered her cool gaze as she left the room. He certainly didn’t have the strength to trust his heart to anyone. If he allowed himself to be vulnerable with her, or encouraged her to be open with him, then he would be in danger of losing his heart for the second time. And it would be exposed to the very great probability of being destroyed. Again.

Brandon parked in front of the Burrows residence and turned off the car’s ignition. He turned to look at Maggie. She faced the passenger window as she stared at the house. She hadn’t spoken a word since they left the hotel. He tried multiple times to bait her into conversation but she didn’t bite.

It was the afternoon after the fair. The day had passed without incident: no burnt cars on the side of the highways, no vague notes left for law enforcement. Brandon spent much of the day in the field conducting searches in the surrounding woods near Germanna Highway, the gateway to the Blue Ridge Mountains. Also away from command and control, Maggie re-interviewed a few neighbors and even took a meeting with the mayor.

The sun set and with it, the temperature dropped. Maggie wanted another look around the Burrows place, this time to focus on anything that might have been left, or removed, by Happy Gilbert. Happy still remained uncooperative, and even lost the team tailing him around town, giving both Brandon and Maggie the suspicion he might be aiding Burrows. Maggie planned to have Happy detained on the charge of aiding and abetting a fugitive, but she needed evidence directly linking him to any activity by Burrows since the escape. She opened the car door and stepped out. Brandon dropped his head back against the seat and sighed.

Maggie had been more than uncharacteristically quiet during their ride over. In fact, he rarely caught her gaze. When he picked her up at the hotel, she cordially said hello, stated what she hoped to find at the Burrows home, and then fell silent. He didn’t blame her for creating distance between them. He started it last night. No, it began shortly after their kiss.

Brandon groaned aloud. He watched her back move closer to the front door, not looking to see if he followed her. He tried to tell himself her actions didn’t bother him, but they did. Even if he did want to push her away, he still wanted her to press in close. He couldn’t explain the dichotomy. He promised himself after Emily died, no other woman would capture his heart. Emily was it for him. He didn’t think another woman could stir him the way she did.

Until he met Maggie.

At first sight, his heart had thumped in a way he hadn’t known before. The immediate comfort he’d felt, the desire to be near her: all of it shocked him. Guilt over Emily’s memory threatened to consume him, especially after he’d kissed Maggie. Keeping her at arm’s length was the only solution. She noticed his mood swings, and rode their waves well, but something changed yesterday morning before the fair. Maggie exhibited a mood swing of her own and he didn’t like it.

Anger coursed through him. They couldn’t spend forever out here chasing this phantom. Once Burrows was caught, what then? The thought of not seeing her again kept him awake most of the night. But by morning, with his temper short due to lack of sleep, he resolved to remain professional, to not pull her back into the elevator and feel her lips once more.
Brandon, what do you want?
He didn’t answer himself.

Brandon stepped out of the vehicle. Maggie had walked around the property and returned to the front yard. In a rare moment, she locked eyes with his.
Man, she is beautiful
. Her dark hair flowed in waves down around her shoulders. Round eyes betrayed a slight look of uncertainty. Brandon wondered whether he was the cause or Burrows. Her snug cargo pants revealed more of her curvy form, but Brandon could only look in her eyes. He wanted to know her thoughts, her desires, and if she listed his name among them.

She stopped in front of him and kept her lips tightly closed.

“What are you thinking?”

“That I’m still missing something.” She wrapped her arms around her body and shivered, although the temperature was a comfortable mid-seventies.

“What do you think it could be?”

Maggie shrugged. “It has to be something small that it’s easily missed. Or maybe it’s plain as day and I’m just not seeing it. The house shows no signs of tampering, and there aren’t any obscure spots to use for dead drops. No one has disappeared or gone missing. Although the man I saw at the fair yesterday was in the area where Sally Mayes sold her merchandise, she hasn’t experienced any strange encounters either.” Maggie buffed her arms. “I don’t know what Burrows is doing, or how Happy Gilbert is connected.”

Brandon nodded. “It’s the not knowing.”

“Yes,” she whispered. She kept her gaze averted but couldn’t hide the dark shadows in them.

He understood her apprehension. With each fugitive came his or her own set of challenges. The longer they remained free, the more Brandon worried whether they were hurting anyone. His speed in recovering fugitives was unmatched, until Burrows. Having a daily report of no missing persons from the local PD somewhat consoled him.

“Burrows will turn up. He did yesterday and he will again. When he does, we’ll catch him.”

Maggie smiled unconvincingly. “Is this unusual for you? I mean, how long do your chases usually last?”

Brandon placed his hands on his hips and looked at the house. “It varies, actually. Sometimes a few hours, sometimes a few days.” He turned to her and smiled. “Afraid you aren’t living up to your hype?”

Maggie’s eyes registered shock. “I don’t have hype.”

“Every law enforcement officer in the state knows the Burrows case. You have hype.”

Maggie bit her lip. Her eyes held an unpleasant darkness. “I’ve never asked for it.”

“You really should give yourself more credit. Look at what you’ve accomplished. FBI profiler instrumental in the capture of the most notorious killer since the DC sniper; beautiful…” He couldn’t help that last part. A few wisps of hair sailed in the hazy breeze. Her brown eyes glowed amber in the setting sun. His heart thumped at the blush in her cheeks, but it was belittled by the sudden anger in her eyes. “You’re intelligent, compassionate—”

“I wish you wouldn’t.” She stomped away from him toward the front porch.

“What?”

She whirled back. “You know what. You’re toying with me, and frankly, Brandon, I’m tired of it.”

“Toying with you?” He ground his teeth. His temper threatened to break free. What she accused him of was true, but he didn’t want to hear it, let alone admit it.

“Yes, toying with me.” She threw her hands up, exasperated. “Look, I know about Emily. I know she was your fiancée.” Her voice softened.

Brandon could see the look of empathy in her eyes and couldn’t muster fury at it, as much as he wanted to. Both women were incredibly different. Emily was tough, direct, and never held anything back. But Maggie was softer. Tactful. Delicate. As much as he was attracted to women like Emily, he was losing himself over Maggie.

Wait a minute? How did she find out?

“You know about Emily?” He worked hard to keep his voice even.

Maggie nodded as she wrapped her arms around her body.

“Bernie told you, didn’t he?” Maggie nodded again. Her gaze wavered under his scrutiny. Was she feeling guilty for knowing?

Bernie never knew when to mind his own business. But given the circumstances, he wasn’t surprised his friend meddled. It irked him how easily Bernie could read him. He knew his personal struggle with his attraction to Maggie. He considered Bernie one of his best friends, and after Emily died, Brandon leaned heavily on him for support. But why Bernie needed to push him and Maggie together, he couldn’t understand. Five years wasn’t a long time. Was it? When he was ready to move on, he would…

And not a minute before.

Her eyes assessed him. “Don’t be mad at Bernie. He was only trying to help.”

“Really? Help? Help who?” His voice came out rough, but releasing his anger was always therapeutic.

Maggie looked away for a few seconds and then back to him. “Perhaps both of us.”

“If you wanted to know something, all you had to do was ask.”

Maggie’s eyes steeled over as he stepped onto the porch. “Would you have answered?” she challenged. “You’re hot one minute and cold the next. I hardly know when or how to act because I don’t know if I’m speaking with Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde.”

“A little overly dramatic, aren’t we?” Well, actually no. He did send her mixed signals. He wouldn’t admit it to her, though…at least not yet.

“Try being on the receiving end of yourself and then you can judge.” She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow.

Brandon’s lip uncontrollably twitched. “So, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Is that profiler terminology?”

“What?”

“What am I to you, a test case?” He stepped forward. Her soft wildflower scent washed over him like a warm bath and for a moment Brandon couldn’t focus. His heart thudded, his senses heady. She watched him, and he could see her features softening, and felt her compassion even before she spoke.

“Yes, I wanted to know what was eating you, and no, you are not a test case.”

“So, you asked Bernie.”

She held up her hands in defense. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Why do you care?” He stepped closer, smelling blood. They were going to have it out now. Everything was going to be on the table. If she knew his heartache, then Bernie would’ve told her his feelings for her. It was just the kind of thing Bernie would do. If she knew how he felt, he would know how deep her feelings ran for him. “What are my moods to you unless you care?”

“I do care,” she spoke softly. “And Bernie cares. Brandon, I can imagine a whole lot of people care.” He watched her swallow; her eyes displayed hesitancy. “God cares, too.”

“Don’t preach to me like you know me.”

She uncrossed her arms, and stretched out her hands. “I’m not trying to preach. I just want—”

“You want me. Admit it. You know my secret — how about yours?”

Brandon had sense enough to stop but he couldn’t. He hated being exposed. No other woman knew him as well as Emily, and forces beyond his control allowed Maggie into his heart. He wanted something in return. He
needed
something. Anything. Five years of struggle, anger, and resentment took more of a toll on him than he’d realized. The first moment of relief came in that hot elevator with Maggie in his arms. But his bitterness had become too familiar for him to part with. If he was going to let it all go, to take that leap, he needed the assurance a safety net would catch him. He hit rock bottom the first time. Could he survive a second chance at love?

“Brandon,” she breathed. “This is not where I wanted this conversation to go. I apologize if I have offended you in any way.” She stepped back to escape.

“No apologies. Just the truth.” He stepped forward.

“The truth is I want you to be free from your grief, your anger.”

Brandon read the real truth in her eyes, even though her mouth voiced something different. Yet, it wasn’t enough…not what he wanted to hear. The temperature in his blood reached its boiling point. “Wow, Margaret. Now who’s toying with whom?”

“Excuse me?” She retreated another step, her mouth open in disbelief.

Brandon closed the distance. “First, you’re upset I’m toying with your emotions, which aren’t based on the compassion you have for me and my grief over Emily, but because of your attraction to me. And then when I ask for the truth, you turn up the pity. Just admit it. You care less about my emotional health and more about whether I’ll choose you over my dead fiancée.”

He was shocked his reflexes completely missed what happened next. But the sting on the side of his face left no doubt as to her quickness. He heard his heavy breathing, and his feet felt the vibrations of the porch floorboards beneath her quivering. His own hands trembled at his sides. He couldn’t bring his look up to meet hers. She shoved by him and he heard the rattle of the front doorknob. He jumped at the slam of the door. After he rubbed the side of his face, he speared both hands through his hair, groaned, and then turned toward the door.

****

Maggie didn’t hear Brandon enter the house but she felt his presence. She stood still, her eyes transfixed on the small yellow slip of paper folded in the shape of a triangle on the lamp stand. “Please tell me I’m hallucinating,” she choked.

“No, I see it too. That wasn’t there before.”

She took security from the heat of his close presence. After she’d slammed the door and left him outside on the porch, she’d flipped a light switch and saw the note. Was Burrows in the house? The thought of being alone with that monster turned her into stone. Her mouth opened but no voice came. Her ears tuned everything out but the sounds of the house. She heard nothing.