the case.” Her brother was nothing if not a professional.
Brodie was silent, though she could feel his eyes boring into her. She began looking through the stack of packages. “I’ll ask again,” he said after a moment. “What is that you’re wearing?”
“It’s a prom dress,” she managed.
“Isn’t it the wrong time of year for prom? And aren’t you in graduate school?”
Her eyes widened and she froze in the act of reaching for a package. “How did you know I’m in graduate school?”
“I might have checked up on you a time or two. They don’t have proms in graduate school, do they?”
He’d checked up on her. Should she be flattered, or creeped out? “It’s the new thing. Haven’t you heard?” She continued scanning the labels on the boxes. She picked up the one that surely held her bridesmaid’s dress. Maybe instead of stuffing the prom dress back into her closet, she’d burn it at Wednesday night’s bonfire. That would be appropriate, wouldn’t it?
“What is all this?” Brodie swept his hand to indicate the piles of boxes, bits of tulle, sewing supplies, silk flowers and other flotsam piled around the room. “Are you getting ready for a big party?”
“Travis is getting married on Sunday,” Emily said. “I guess you didn’t know.” Then again, why would he? He and Travis had stopped being friends five years ago.
“No, I didn’t know. Good for him. Who’s the lucky woman?”
“Her name is Lacy Milligan. I’m sure you don’t know her.”
“No, but I know of her. Now it’s coming back to me.” He grinned. “Lacy is the woman Travis arrested for murder—then after new evidence came to light, he worked to clear her name. I remember the story now, though I didn’t know a wedding was in the offing.”
It hadn’t taken long for the media to latch onto the story of a wrongly accused woman falling in love with the law enforcement officer who had sent her to prison in the first place, then worked to clear her name. Most of the state was probably familiar with the story by now, but Emily didn’t want to discuss it with Brodie. “Travis is at his office in town,” she said, deciding it was past time to send Brodie on his way. “It’s on Main. You can’t miss it.”
Before he could answer, her cell phone buzzed and she grabbed it off a nearby table. “Hello?”
“Hey.” Travis’s greeting was casual, but his voice carried the tension that never left him these days. “I was trying to get hold of Lacy, but I can’t get through on her phone.”
“I think she’s talking to Paige, letting her know the highway is open.”
“She’s terrible about checking her messages, so do me a favor and tell her I’m not going to be able to take her to dinner today. I’m sorry, but we’ve had a break in the case.”
Emily’s heart leaped. “Have you made an arrest?”
“Not exactly, but we know who the killers are. One of them is dead, but the other is still on the loose.”
“A second murderer?” Travis had long suspected the Ice Cold Killer might be more than one man. If he had caught one of the killers, surely that meant he was closing in on the second. Maybe the case would be solved before the wedding after all. “Lacy will be glad to hear it,” Emily said.
“Maybe not so glad when you tell her I have to miss dinner. I need to focus on tracking down the second man.”
Which meant he probably wouldn’t be home to sleep, either. “Travis, you can’t keep working around the clock like this.”
“We’re going to get some help. The Colorado Bureau of Investigation has agreed to loan us one of their investigators. Now that the road is open, he—or she—should be showing up anytime.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Brodie, who was looking out the window. The past five years had been kind to him, filling out his shoulders, adding a few fine lines around his eyes. He wore his hair a little longer than when she’d last seen him, and sunlight through the window picked out the gold streaks in the brown. Add in chiseled cheekbones, a dimpled chin and a straight nose and it was no wonder he could be mistaken for a model or a movie star.
As if sensing her staring at him, he turned and met her gaze, then cocked one eyebrow, lips half-curved in a mocking smile.
“Emily? Are you still there?” Travis asked.
“Um, your help from the CBI is here,” she said. “It’s Brodie Langtry.” Not waiting to hear Travis’s reaction, she thrust the phone at Brodie. It’s Travis, she mouthed.
Brodie took the phone. “Travis! It’s been a long time. I’m looking forward to working with you on this case…Yes, I volunteered for the job. To tell you the truth, I thought it was past time we mended fences. I know we didn’t part under the best of circumstances five years ago and I’d like to clear the air. I’ve been catching up with Emily.”
She cringed at the words. She and Brodie didn’t need to “catch up.” They had had a fun time together once, and if it had ended badly, she took most of the blame for that. She’d been young and naive and had expected things from him that he had never promised to give. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
While he and Travis continued to talk about the case, she turned away and began opening the boxes, enjoying the way the scissors ripped through the tape, letting the sound drown out their conversation. As an investigator with the Colorado Bureau of Investigation, Brodie would no doubt bring a welcome extra pair of eyes to the hunt for the Ice Cold Killer. She needed to remember that he was here to help Travis and probably didn’t have the least interest in her. So there was no need for her to feel awkward around him.
Brodie tapped her on the shoulder and held out her phone. “Travis didn’t sound very happy to hear from me. Why is that, do you think?”
“You’ll have to ask him.” But she would make sure Travis didn’t tell Brodie anything he didn’t need to know. Best to leave the past in the past.
“I’m going to meet him in town and get caught up on this case,” he said. “But I’m hoping to see more of you later.”
Before she could think of an answer to this, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “It’s great to see you again, Emily,” he murmured, and she cursed the way her knees wobbled in response.
Then he strode from the room, the door shutting firmly behind him.
Emily groaned and snatched a pillow off the sofa. She hurled it at the door, half wishing Brodie was still standing there and she was aiming at his head. Brodie Langtry was the last person in the world she wanted to see right now. This next week with him was going to be her own version of hell.
Brodie drove through a world so blindingly white it hurt even with sunglasses shading his eyes. Only the scarred trunks of aspen and the bottle-brush silhouettes of pine trees broke the expanse of glittering porcelain. If not for the walls of plowed snow on either side of the road, it would be difficult in places to distinguish the road from the surrounding fields. After five hours of similar landscape between here and Denver, Emily, in her crazy ruffled pink dress, had stood out like a bird of paradise, a welcome shock to the senses.
Shocking also was how much Travis’s little sister had matured. She’d been pretty before—or maybe cute was the better word—vivacious and sweet and attractive in a lithe, youthful way. She had filled out since then, her curves more pronounced, her features sharpened into real beauty.
She seemed more serious, but then so was he. Life—and especially a life spent working in law enforcement—did