Текст книги "You're Not Safe"

Автор книги: Mary Burton

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Chapter Seventeen

Sunday, June 8, 8 A.M.

Bragg stared at the mangy puppy who ate his food as if he were half starved. The pup had risen early and, to Mitch’s credit, he’d gotten up with the dog and taken him for a walk. Bragg, who’d always been a light sleeper, had gotten up and offered to make coffee and feed the pup while Mitch took his shower. The plan was for Mitch and Jasper to drive out to the vineyard today. With harvest coming, Greer needed all hands on deck. For the next couple of days Mitch and Jasper would bunk at the vineyard with the other workers in the barracks. Mitch didn’t mind a bit.

Bragg cracked a half dozen eggs in a bowl and scrambled them with a fork. When he was alone he didn’t bother with cooking but since Mitch’s return he’d made the effort. At first, Mitch had refused to eat and a lot of eggs and toast had ended in the trash bin. Since Greer, his appetite had returned with a vengeance.

Since Greer.

He let the image of Greer Templeton fill his mind.

When he dropped four strips of bacon in another skillet the pup sniffed, glanced at his food and then back up at Bragg. The dog barked, but kept a watchful eye on the food he already had in his bowl.

“That’s smart. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” He cut off a small piece of bacon and handed it to the dog who greedily accepted it.

Mitch lumbered down the hallway, his hair wet from the shower and slicked back. He wore jeans, a Bonneville T-shirt, and boots. He carried his rucksack packed full with his belongings.

He sat at the table, and Bragg set a plate loaded with eggs, bacon, and bread in front of him. Jasper hustled over to sit by Mitch’s feet. “Have a busy day?”

“Yeah. Got the horses and Greer’s going to explain about the harvest. Everyone at the vineyard helps with the harvest. She’s even got some girl, Danni, coming in to help.”

“The girl from the Crisis Center?”

“I guess.”

Bragg pushed back a budding sense of hope. He didn’t want to hope too much. “You’ve jumped into this with both feet.”

He stabbed a mountain of eggs. “Didn’t mean to. The place just kind of sucked me in before I realized it.”

It wasn’t the place. It was Greer. “Have you seen where you’ll be living?”

“It’s a barracks. Several guys bunk there. A lot like basic but nicer.” He took several big bites.

“How’s Greer as a boss?” The woman stirred up so many questions it was hard to choose which to ask first.

“She’s okay.”

He heard the growl under the last word. “Meaning, what?”

He shrugged. “She can be a pain.”

Bragg held back a smile. He had no doubt. “How so?”

After a moment he hugged out a breath. “She’s making me talk to Dr. Stewart.”

He’d not seen that coming. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I’m doing everything she asked me.”

“Then why’s she pushing?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. She’s yammering about the wisdom of a professional.”

Holding his breath, he didn’t dare remind Mitch they’d had this same conversation, and that Mitch had turned angry and resentful. They’d had one hell of a fight, but nothing had been resolved. “You gonna do it?”

He loaded his fork with eggs. “She’s sending me into town anyway for supplies on Wednesday and said I could take an extra hour or two and see the doc.”

Getting the boy to open up was like pulling teeth. “So that’s a yes?”

A pause. “Yeah.”

Greer had given his nephew a job, a purpose, and now she had him visiting Dr. Stewart. She was mending the scars left by the war. She’d done more for his boy in a week than he’d been able to do in months.

Gratitude rubbed against a dark restlessness he couldn’t pin down. Physically, he was attracted to Greer. He respected her. He imagined a trust forming between them.

Bragg wanted to be at the vineyard today, working with Mitch and watching Greer. He wanted to be in the hot sun working side by side with her, watching how she handled herself with Mitch and her other employees. He wanted to see how she managed problems. And how she filled out her jeans and T-shirts, both of which he thought about a lot.

He wondered if she dated or if she slept alone. The idea of her in bed with another man had jealousy gnawing at his gut like it never had before.

Greer took up more and more of his thoughts. He could pretend she was a fleeting fancy, but he’d be wrong.

Bragg pulled up in front of Jennifer Bell’s dress shop and grabbed his hat. It was a frilly kind of place not meant for men. A place he’d have avoided if not for work. When he had an overnight date, some would leave behind frilly feminine doodads, sometimes a scent of perfume lingered as a reminder of their evening. He’d rarely noticed let alone cared. And it had been years since a woman had bothered to leave behind reminders. He thought about Greer’s scent lingering on his pillow. He’d not be quick to dismiss any mementos if she left any behind.

Bells jingled over his head as he walked into the shop. A couple of women, glitzy and polished, lifted their gazes from the clothing racks to toss him a speculative glance. Their perfectly styled hair and ritzy outfits had him hankering for the lady who favored jeans, T-shirts, and dusty boots.

Irritated that his thoughts wouldn’t stay away from Greer, he moved with purpose to the front register where a tall brunette studied him with resentment. “Ranger Tec Bragg. I’m here for Jennifer Bell.”

The two customers on the floor stared with obvious curiosity, which unsettled the woman more. “I’m Jennifer Bell. Why don’t we go back in my office?”

Turning, she pushed through the curtains, nodding as she vanished into the back.

He followed knowing if she were a man he’d not tolerate her walking away like that.

She faced him, manicured, long fingers resting on trim hips. “Greer sent you, didn’t she?”

Her tone had his hackles rising and his loyalty demanding he rise to Greer’s defense. “No one sends me anywhere.”

Silver earrings jangled as she shook her head from side to side. “You wouldn’t know about me if not for Greer.”

If he’d not been studying her closely, he’d have missed the flash of pain in her gaze. “Why do you say that?”

Disdain flattened her lips and covered the momentary flash of hurt. “Because my family paid well to ensure the past stayed in the past.”

“And what past might that be?”

With a flick of her wrist she attempted to dismiss him. “Don’t play stupid with me. She told you everything.”

Other than telling him the two women had met at Shady Grove, Greer had not told him anything about Jennifer’s past. But he’d baited hooks before with skimpier morsels. “I know about Shady Grove.”

Her face flushed and for a moment she closed her eyes before she met his gaze again. “I can’t believe she told you. You know, I actually felt sorry for her once.” She shook her head. “Nothing good would come of it when she showed up. What did she tell you?”

He resisted the urge to defend Greer’s loyalty to Jennifer. “I got a real good idea of the whole picture.”

Painted red lips pursed. “She is such a bitch. Such a bitch. Fucking past. I’ve paid for it enough.”

Bragg’s hackles rose higher. A second or two longer and he’d speak his mind. “Tell me about her.”

She reached behind her and picked up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. With a steady hand she lit the tip. After a couple of puffs, she said, “She really sent you?”

“No one sends me.”

“But you are here.” She shook her head, her disgust clear. “She always came off as caring and sweet at camp. I had sympathy for her. Thought I could trust her. Thought if I told her she’d understand. Now I realize trust is for fools.”

The woman’s words mirrored his brand of cynicism. Jennifer judged Greer unfairly and he’d been guilty of the same. “She told you about Rory and Sara.”

He wasn’t here to answer questions but to ask them. “When was the last time you saw Sara or Rory?”

“Rory. That was years ago. At least ten years. His mother was still alive so his family hadn’t cut him off. It was the Western Country Club, and he was drunk. In fact, I think he tried to hit me up for money.” She shook her head. “Jerk.”

“And Sara?”

“A couple of years. We saw each other around town and were polite but we didn’t really speak.”

He dangled another bit of bait into the waters. “Greer told me everyone at the camp tried to commit suicide.”

Green eyes narrowed. “I guess she also told you I popped a handful of pills.”

He let the silence goad her.

“Why couldn’t she let the past stay buried? We’ve all gotten on with our lives. No good could come of going back and dredging up what couldn’t be changed. There’s no changing past mistakes.”

He remained silent, watching.

“You know I saw the picture of her in the paper six months ago. She’d just joined the board of a crisis center. I remember thinking, ‘Can’t you stay hidden?’ She couldn’t let her past stay past; she had to drag all that shit up to help others.”

Greer acknowledged that she’d never forget her mistakes, but she was moving forward, whereas Jennifer hadn’t let go. “She’s done some good work.”

“This may be wrong of me, but I don’t care. She’s stirring up the past and it will come to no good. No good. There’s nothing any one of us can do to change the past. Nothing. All we can do is try to live our lives, which is what I’m trying to do.”

“Why do you want to keep it buried? Everyone makes mistakes.”

Her face paled a fraction as if a fear chased up her spine. “There are some mistakes one can’t recover from. Those mistakes have to be buried and forgotten.”

“Like your suicide attempt?”

She swallowed as if forcing back bile and fear. “Christ, what do you think my boyfriend would say if he knew? Do you think I’d still have a business? No, that kind of past chases people away. It keeps you in the ‘freak’ category forever.” Her voice dropped to a pained whisper.

“You seen anyone else from your pod at Shady Grove?” With luck she’d toss him a name, and he’d have another piece of the puzzle.

“I saw Sam a few months ago.”

“Was that his real name?”

Her gaze sharpened. “No.”

“Do you know what it was?”

A half smile tweaked the edge of her mouth. “He was wearing a name tag that read ‘Michael Sycamore.’”

A solid, real name. “Did you talk?”

“No. He saw me. I saw him. And with one glance we both agreed not to speak to the other. Nothing personal. Just keep your distance.” She arched a brow. “Greer didn’t tell you about him?”

“No. She didn’t know his real name.”

“Or if she had she’d have told you. Figures.” She sighed.

“See who he worked for?”

“No.”

“Anything else you can tell me about him?”

“No. And he won’t welcome a visit from you, either. I could tell he didn’t want to talk about the camp. He was with a woman. Pretty. Blond and wearing a big engagement ring.” She shrugged. “I notice details like that.”

“Why was Michael at the camp?”

“Greer didn’t tell you? She’s in a talkative mood these days.”

“I’m asking you.”

She studied him a long moment. “He threatened to shoot himself. He was caught stealing from his parents. And not just nickels and dimes. He stole nice pieces from the house and was selling them.”

“Why’d he need the money?”

“That’s the thing, he didn’t need the money. He just liked stealing. His father found out and threatened to cut him off, and he freaked out. He took one of his father’s pistols and pressed it to his head. His father tackled him and sent him to Shady Grove.”

“Where is he now?”

“Houston, I think.” She folded her arms over her chest. “That’s all I know. So would you and your little snitch leave me alone?” She pointed her finger at him. “I don’t want my name in the press.”

His patience now paper-thin, he bared his teeth in an unfriendly smile. “I don’t take orders from you.”

She arched a brow, leveling what she must have thought was a withering gaze. He suppressed a laugh. He’d handled far worse than this woman could ever dish out.

A faint flush colored her face and when she raised her cigarette to her mouth her hand trembled slightly. She held his gaze a beat longer and then dropped it. “Just leave me alone.”

“Don’t think this is finished, Ms. Bell. I’ll do whatever I have to do to solve this case.”

She stubbed out her cigarette into a crystal ashtray. “Be careful of Greer, Ranger Bragg. She’ll get into your head. Like she wormed in Rory’s. Like she got into Sara’s and mine. And once she sinks her claws into you and you think you can trust her, you’re done.”

Bragg glared at Jennifer, surprised her words hit the mark. Greer had gotten into his head.

Michael stared at the letter from his attorney, anger boiling so hot in him that he thought his head would explode. He’d reread the letter several times and each time the outcome was as grim as the last. He was being sued. For money they said he’d stolen.

Crushing the paper in his hands, he rose and moved to a simple wooden kitchen table where a half-empty bottle of scotch stood. He grabbed a chipped mug from a rustic kitchen cabinet and filled it to the brim with scotch. It might be morning but he didn’t care. Maybe getting piss drunk would dull the outrage thumping in his chest.

He took a long, even drink. The liquid slid down his throat, burning a little as it passed. Moving to the window, he stared out into the rolling hills. He’d not been to the family cabin in a decade and the place had fallen into disrepair since his father’s illness. In truth, he really didn’t like the place. But it was his only sanctuary now.

Turning, he picked the balled letter off the floor and read it again.

Dear Mr. Sycamore: This letter is to inform you that Jay & Brighten Accounting firm will be filing suit against you in one week if the two million dollars in question are not returned. Though your termination cannot be revoked, restoration of funds will avoid the suit and legal action.

He’d worked for that company for eight years. He’d brought in more business than many of the partners. He was a goddamned rising star. And because some asshole couldn’t add numbers, he was being accused of theft.

He hadn’t stolen a dime. Not a red cent. And he’d fight these charges as long as he had breath in his body.

Pressing the cup to his throbbing temple he closed his eyes. He’d been fired. Was being sued. And his fi-ancée had returned the ring. Even his old man wasn’t speaking to him.

Fuck.

Life was crushing him to death.

He couldn’t go on like this.

But he would. He would find a way.

Bragg left Jennifer’s annoyed. He wasn’t sure if he was irritated because she’d been difficult or her warning about Greer had struck a nerve. Like it or not, Greer had struck a nerve. Not good.

As he pushed through the doors of Ranger headquarters and made his way to his office, he put a call in to Winchester. The call landed in voice mail, so he left a message requesting he find Michael Sycamore. As he gave what details he had on the man, he tossed his hat aside and then ended the call. He shrugged off his coat before sitting behind his desk and opening Greer’s accident file Deputy Eric Howell had given him.

Bragg opened the file and studied the photos of the mangled car. He cringed and wondered how Greer could have survived the accident.

This accident didn’t relate to the cases on his desk. It was over a dozen years old. And yet it had been the catalyst for the events that drove Greer to Shady Grove and for someone to kill two people in Greer’s pod.

David Edwards had been clear he didn’t like Greer’s association with his brother. But it was Sydney Dowd’s brother, Rick, who’d confronted her. Rude and pushy didn’t necessarily make him a killer, but he was the lone person now linking the present to the past. And the man had hassled Greer, which in his book was reason enough to pay the man a visit.

It didn’t take much checking to discover Dowd now worked as a vet and ran a large animal clinic ten miles outside of Austin. Dowd’s practice was successful and enjoyed a solid reputation. His clinic cared for many of the area’s most elite thoroughbreds.

Bragg drove west until concrete transformed to rolling green hills. He followed directions through a couple of small towns until he found the white building and barn at the edge of town.

The freshly painted building had a bright bold welcoming sign. He parked in the small gravel parking lot and moved down the sidewalk to the main door. Inside he found a receptionist, a young girl about fifteen years old. Dark hair swept up into a thick ponytail accentuated wide brown eyes and high cheekbones.

She grinned up at him. “How may I help you?”

He softened his expression, which on a good day could pass for a scowl. “I’m looking for Dr. Dowd.”

Bright eyes flickered with recognition. “That’s my dad. You have an animal that needs tending?”

“No, ma’am. I’m with the Rangers and have a couple of questions.”

“Is it a question I might be able to answer? I’ve been working here since May.”

“I appreciate the offer, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat. “But your dad is the fellow I need to see.”

“Dad’s in the barn out back. He’s the only one out there now so he won’t be hard to find. I’d go with you but I’m answering phones now.” On cue, the phone rang.

“I should be able to find it if you point me to the right path.”

“Sure.” The young girl directed him to a barn where he’d find Dowd in a back stall examining a black gelding. She then picked up the phone. “Dowd Animal Clinic.”

As Bragg left the clinic and walked toward the barn, he thought about Greer’s caller last night. A woman. Sounded young. Could Dowd have put his daughter up to the call?

Frowning, he found Rick Dowd in the barn exactly where his daughter had described. The vet had light hair that brushed the top of his collar and his skin was fair, leaving Bragg to assume the little girl up front favored her mother. Dowd wore dark glasses and a jean jacket smeared with mud.

Waiting until the vet stepped away from the animal, Bragg said, “Dr. Dowd?”

Dowd grabbed a rag from his back pocket and wiped his hands. His expression was mild, his smile genuine when he met Bragg’s gaze. “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

Bragg waited until the man had exited the stall and closed the gate behind him. “Name’s Ranger Tec Bragg. I’m with the Texas Rangers.”

Dowd nodded as he wiped his hand on a rag. “I saw the star right away. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to ask you questions about Elizabeth Greer Templeton.”

The doctor’s expression hardened. “Did she send you to talk to me? Be like her to stir up trouble.”

Whatever goodwill Bragg had mustered vanished. His gaze sharpened. His stance tensed. “She mentioned you’d had words at the feed store the other day. I thought I’d ask you about it.”

Shaking his head, he shoved the rag back in his pocket. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything to her. Christ, it’s been twelve years. But seeing her took me by surprise. I guess because she looked so good. Pretty and happy. Suddenly it didn’t seem right she’d be moving around, laughing and smiling, and my sister was dead and buried in the ground for more than a dozen years.”

“I’ve read a good bit about the accident. According to the medical examiner your sister had well over the legal limit of alcohol in her system.”

Dowd shook his head. “She might have had a beer or two at the party, but the fact remains she did not get behind the wheel of the car.”

“She’d been drunk enough to let a fifteen-year-old drive.”

His face crumbled with the kind of blame rising from too many nights of second-guessing and what ifs. “I told her not to drink that night.”

“But she did.”

“She wasn’t driving,” he insisted.

“No, sir, but her judgment was impaired.”

“Where the hell is this going?”

“I did a little digging. Your sister worked for you here at the clinic?”

“That’s right. I’m eight years older than Sydney and with Mom and Dad’s help I had set up this place. Sydney knew I couldn’t afford an assistant so she volunteered to help out.” He hesitated, as if emotion clogged his throat. “I always looked out for Sydney. She followed me everywhere, always chewing on my ass.” The words were spoken with tenderness, not malice. “That summer she was working here, mucking stalls and helping me with the animals.”

“She’d been a student at the University of Texas.”

“That’s right. Biology. Honor roll. She’d talked about going to vet school and joining me in my practice.” As he recounted the facts of his sister’s life, his jaw set as if the telling stoked the embers of his anger.

“And she dated Jeff Templeton?”

“That’s right. For about six months. Our family didn’t have the kind of money his family did. They ran in the highest circles. We warned her his kind used girls like her, but she always defended him. She said he loved her.”

“How’d they meet?”

“At UT. She’d taken courses at UT the spring of her senior year of high school. She was pretty smart. He was a junior.”

“You were vocal after the accident. You pressed for the lawsuit against the Templetons.”

His jaw hardened. “Not right she’d just get away with it. Her bullshit story about another driver was an insult. I wanted her to feel my loss.”

“She lost her brother.”

He shook his head as if he didn’t want to hear. “She was reckless. I’ve seen how it goes with the rich. I’ve worked with enough of them. Money can buy you out of all kinds of trouble.”

He rested his hand on his hip. “You think money bought Greer out of trouble?”

“I think she’d been drinking. I think she shouldn’t have been behind the wheel, and I think she made up the second driver to cover her tracks. And her family backed her up.”

His index finger tapped against his belt. “Did you know she’d stayed in Austin after the accident?”

“I know after she tried to kill herself she vanished. I asked around but wherever she went no one was talking. Eventually, I had to give it up and move on with my life.”

“And you ran into her by accident at the feed store?”

He shook his head, astonishment evident. “Yeah. Like seeing a ghost from the past.”

“And you confronted her.”

“She’d been laughing. And it made me mad. I can promise you if my sister had been driving that car twelve years ago and she’d killed Elizabeth and her brother she’d have done jail time.”

“Greer was fifteen and sober.”

“Sober. Right. Families like the Templetons can make donations to the sheriff’s reelection campaign and ugly facts like a drunk daughter vanish.” His fingers curled into fists before relaxing a fraction.

“She was about the age of your daughter at the time of the accident.”

Dowd paled. “Don’t compare Jenna to Greer. My girl is a hard worker. Makes good grades and is a straight shooter. She doesn’t run around with rich country club kids. I won’t allow it.”

“You know about Greer’s time at Shady Grove?”

“No. Why would I? I do know it’s a place for rich kids who can’t cut it.”

“You ever know anyone who stayed at Shady Grove?”

“Like I said many of my clients are rich. If they or their kids spent time at the place, I didn’t know about it. I keep it polite with that kind because they’re my bread and butter, but I don’t mix with them.”

“Greer received a call the other night at the Crisis Center. The caller was female. She said some mighty nasty things to Greer.”

“So?”

“She said the caller sounded young.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Your daughter is young. Would you have put her up to the call?”

The color drained from his face. “How dare you drag my daughter into this. She was just a baby when Sydney died.”

“She loves you very much. Maybe you put her up to the call.”

“No. Never.”

Bragg looked around the barn, absorbing details. “I’m going to have to ask you to stay away from Greer Templeton.”

“Why, Ranger? I was mad and I told her so. Last I checked it’s a free country.”

He bared white teeth into a smile that was not a smile. “Yes, sir, it is. But I’m offering you a friendly warning where it comes to Ms. Templeton. Leave her be.”

“What’s she to you? She your girlfriend?”

He had no idea what Greer was to him, other than a name in an investigation or a mentor to his nephew. He’d known her all of five days, but it was enough to care. To protect. But Dowd didn’t need a speech on the matter. He took a step toward Dowd. “I don’t need to explain myself to you, Dr. Dowd.”

Dowd took a step back but mutiny burned in his gaze.

A blistering headache pounded behind Jennifer’s eyes as she moved across the parking lot toward her car. She clicked the entry and moved behind the wheel, savoring the heat of the seats. She’d been cold all day, unable to shake the chill slithering into her bones the moment she’d stepped into the shop today. The shop had felt off, wrong. She’d searched for signs of a break-in or trouble, but when everything checked out she’d attributed her unease to Greer’s visit.

Greer had stirred the cauldron of her emotions. She’d rattled her. Made her edgy. And then that damn Ranger had arrived. He’d reminded her of an ancient barbarian. No conscience. No concern. Even the thought of the man made her stomach churn.

The afternoon in the shop had been crazy busy and she’d set a record in sales. Any other day and she’d have been brimming with satisfaction, but today panic burrowed as if the foundation under her feet crumbled.

Needing to connect to the present, she dialed her fiancé. He picked up on the third ring. “Hey, babe,” she said.

“You headed home?” His soft smooth voice soothed her. Unlike Bragg, Adam was a sweet, kind man.

She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten that lucky, but she’d landed a great guy. She’d do anything not to lose him. “Yes. We were late closing. Couldn’t get rid of some customers. One didn’t buy a single item, but the other bought a nice Vera Wang. The sales justified the extra half hour.”

“Good job.”

She traced the steering wheel with a manicured finger. The day’s stress ebbed from her muscles. “So what are you doing?”

“Hanging out by the pool waiting for you, babe. Hurry home. We can go skinny-dipping.”

She laughed, reaching for her water bottle. “Sounds fun. See you in a few.”

She drank deeply from the bottle, savoring the cold water. It refreshed her. Fuck Greer and all the bullshit from the past. She was in a good place now, and if someone really did figure out the truth, what could be proved? Nothing.

She yawned as she backed out of her spot and headed down Congress Avenue. She was glad Adam’s house was a couple of miles from her store. She was more tired than she’d thought. At a second stoplight she closed her eyes determined to rest them for only a minute. The honking of a horn behind her startled her awake and had her shaking her head. What was wrong with her? She’d not experienced this kind of bone-weary fatigue since . . . since the night she’d taken that bottle of her mother’s pills.

Fear rose up from a hidden part in her, and she gripped her steering wheel. She’d not touched a drug in twelve years. Not even an aspirin. And she’d not had a drink of alcohol in over a year. But she felt drugged. Panic growing, she pulled her car over to the side of the road and reached for her cell phone. Her vision blurred as she stared at the numbers that now danced and spun. Just like before, she panicked after taking the pills and dialed 911.

She hit the nine but an extreme heaviness had her head tipping back against the headrest. Wake up! She fumbled her thumb from the nine to the one and managed to hit it once. She hit the second one but fatigue pried her fingers open and the cell dropped from her hands before she could hit SEND.

Greer dreamed of the accident again. Lights, a horrendous crash, and screaming.

She sat up in bed, and shoved a trembling hand through her hair. Her heart raced and her mouth had grown as dry as cotton. A glance at the clock told her it was minutes after three.

Rising, she moved into the kitchen, took a glass from the cabinet, and filled it with water. She drank heavily, savoring the water as if she’d not had any in days.

Finally, when she didn’t feel extremely parched she turned and leaned against the sink, cradling the glass close to her chest. The thought of returning to bed left a chill in her bones. She didn’t want to risk reliving the accident again. There was work, always work, but she was weary of staring at numbers and worrying over the ripeness of her vineyard.

Restless, she set down the glass. If Lydia had been alive, she’d have risen by now, made them both tea, and together they’d sit at the kitchen table and discuss everything and nothing. Now without Lydia, she was adrift.

Her mind went to Bragg. Perhaps if it had been the clear light of day she’d have pushed thoughts of him away, but here alone in the dark she welcomed his warm embrace, if merely in her imagination.

After moments passed, she felt foolish standing here alone thinking of a man out of her reach. She pushed away from the counter, set down the glass, and returned to her room. With a wary glance toward her unmade bed, she went to her closet and turned on the light inside. Her gaze roamed over her collection of shirts and jeans up to boxes that stacked high on the top shelf. She reached for the lowest box but at first her fingers only grazed the dusty cardboard. Finally, she grabbed a chrome chair from the kitchen and placed it in front of the closet.

On the chair she had a better view of the boxes that stored what little she’d kept from her old life. When she’d left Shady Grove she’d had a suitcase full of clothes, but over the next month her mother had sent more and more of her belongings. Holding bits of her life before the accident had been too painful to bear, but she also couldn’t let go of her before life either. To do that would erase Jeff. That’s why she’d stored each of the boxes in the closet.

She scanned the boxes and found the one she wanted in the middle on the far left. Leaning forward she tugged carefully at the box until it slid out.

Greer climbed off the chair and sat on the edge of her bed. She removed the box top and stared at the collection of trinkets. They’d been what she’d brought with her from Shady Grove. On the bottom she found what she’d been searching for—an image. The picture Bragg had of Rory and her had been taken from this picture, which also featured Sam, Jennifer, and Sara. She studied the picture of the five smiling faces. Such bruised gazes in such young faces.