Page 7

She’s the one who needs to be locked up. Why am I the one suffering?

A quiet knock at the door jolts me out of my thoughts. I’m not in the habit of arming myself, but since this happened, my trusty SIG Sauer M17 hasn’t left my side.

I palm it, and stand to one side of the door. “Yeah?”

“It’s me,” a female voice answers.

I unlock the dead bolt and fling the door open, perplexed. “What are you doing here?”

Brooke’s arms are filled with brown sacks, and she’s carrying her briefcase. “What do you think I’m doing? You asked me to help, so I’m helping.”

I close the door behind her and lock it again. “Yeah, but what are you doing in Florida?”

Her reply comes out muffled as I follow her into my tiny kitchen. She dumps the bags on the counter and pushes a strand of her inky hair behind her ear. “My editor gave me a little rope on a story, so I made it stretch all the way to Tampa. I think I might have found something.”

As she starts pulling groceries out of the bags, my eyes snag on the briefcase. “What is it?”

“Give me a sec, will you? I’m hungry.” She sniffs the air, and her eyes widen. “Is that lasagna?”

I nod. “Mom’s filled my freezer.”

She groans as she abandons her store-bought junk, opens the cutlery drawer, and hauls out a fork. “Is there any lasagna left?”

I gesture behind us. “On the table.”

She lets out a yip then almost skips to the table, sinks in to the seat opposite mine, and pulls the dish toward her. “Thank you, Lord, for this food!”

As she demolishes my leftovers, I grab her briefcase and put it in front of her. “What did you find?”

She ignores me, shoveling in mouthfuls of food like she hasn’t eaten in a week.

“Oink, oink, Miss Piggy,” I say.

Her face twists, and she replies in between bites. “At least I take the time to chew. You swallow food whole.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, I have to eat on the fly. What’s your excuse?”

She ignores me completely, so I toy with the lock on her briefcase. “Since when did you start locking this thing?”

Her fork pauses midway to her mouth. “I’m working on something I need a little extra security on.”

“But you’re being careful?”

She puts her fork down and pushes the dish away. “I didn’t come here to talk about me. I came because I found something.”

If I wasn’t so curious about what she’s found out, I’d push it a little more. Brooke has a knack for getting herself into trouble.

She might be older than me by eighteen months, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t the one trying to look out for her. I’ve lost count of the number of times she said something, or did something, or found out something that backfired. We got pretty skilled at hiding things from Mom and Dad, but there were times growing up I’d prayed for a less adventurous sister. She’s smart and determined, but sometimes she’s too stubborn for her own good.

But right now, that’s exactly who I need on my side.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a key then opens the case. “Before I show you, I want you to promise to visit Mom. She’s worried about you.”

I can feel my forehead creasing in annoyance. “I saw her a week ago.”

Her mouth tugs down. “Yes, but that’s like a year in Mom time. You could have died on that plane, Mick.”

“I realize that.”