Page 147 of Capturing You

“The police said he wasn’t. Of course, I’ve always believed the police were in on it.”

“Why?”

“Because they didn’t find the killers and because…I don’t know why. It’s just something I always believed, but I could never say why. There’s so much from that day I don’t remember. Snippets of conversation. Maybe someone said something, or…I don’t know.” Frustration had his lips clamping shut. Rather than follow that dead-end road—he’d been there often enough—he added, “In any event, it never seemed like anyone cared enough to find out the truth.”

“People cared. Your family was part of the community. Their murders rocked the town. But you weren’t here to see that. As far as you knew, everything went on as usual.”

“There is one other reason I distrust the police. My grandmother told a Shadow Cove detective that I was at the house, but he kept that information out of the file and told me not to tell anyone else. Though he didn’t say so explicitly, I took that to mean not even other police officers.”

“He thought someone in the department was involved?”

Forbes shrugged. “He died before I was old enough to start investigating. I never got to question him, so I don’t know.”

“If we assume Nathan is working for The Network?—”

“A safe assumption, I think,” Forbes said.

“Agreed.” Brooklynn pushed herself higher on the sofa. “What if… what if your dad knew that a local cop was involved? What if he was gathering evidence to tell somebody else, somebody higher up, and The Network found out?”

Forbes had had the same idea many times over the years. “There’s no evidence?—”

“There’s plenty of evidence. It’s all in how you look at it. Come on, help me up.” She tugged his hand. “We need to go to your dad’s office.”

After twenty-plus years, Forbes should know better, but against his wishes, hope bubbled up inside.

Maybe Dad hadn’t been a criminal. Maybe…maybe Forbes and Brooklynn could finally get to the bottom of this.

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

The ice pack and ibuprofen had brought down the swelling in Brooklynn’s ankle, and with it, the pain. Forbes had found an old Ace bandage and wrapped her ankle, giving her more stability.

She walked all by herself to the door of the family room. She’d taken her things out of the old-lady purse and, with her backpack slung over her shoulders, turned back to Forbes, who watched from beside the sofa, arms crossed.

“See? I’m fine.”

“I see.” He walked forward, stopping just a foot away. “I’m carrying you downstairs.”

“I don’t need?—”

“I know you don’t need me.” Before she could protest, he lifted her as if she weighed no more than the tray of food he’d brought up earlier. “Maybe I just want to, hmm? Ever think of that?”

She would swear amusement danced in his eyes. Amusement, which was not at all the same as what she was feeling.

Desire warmed her, and she fought the temptation to run her fingers into his auburn hair. She slid her arms around his neck as if she needed to hold onto him. And maybe she did.

When he’d shared his memories, he’d shared the deepest parts of himself with her. He’d trusted her with the truth, something he hadn’t shared with anyone else. She’d never felt closer to a man or to anyone.

Being in his arms felt perfect, as if she’d been longing for this place all her life without even knowing it.

Maybe God had more for Brooklynn and Forbes.

His eyebrows hiked as if he waited for an answer. Had he asked her a question?

Perhaps sensing her confusion, he bumped his arms, jostling her. “May I carry you?”

“It’s a little late for that question now, all things considered.”

“Still, it feels rude not to ask.”