chaotic, unstable home.
“Tell me what’s happening. Tell me what you think I did.” Miranda’s panic rose with Max’s.
“I don’t think you did anything. It’s the police who are accusing you.” Max bit out the words, his anger preferable to panic. “According to them, you’ve been dating a felon. The two of you plotted to steal fifty-thousand dollars from a DEA agent. The agent was found dead an hour ago.”
Miranda’s gaze leaped to Hawke. He’d said nothing about a murdered DEA agent. But then, he hadn’t said much about anything.
“Miranda? Are you still there?” Max’s words pulled her from her thoughts and she took a deep breath, trying to force a calm to her voice that she didn’t feel.
“I’m here. I haven’t been dating anyone, haven’t stolen anything. I haven’t done anything wrong. I’ve got plenty of friends who will verify that. All my time has been spent with Justin. You know that.”
“It isn’t about what I know or what I believe or even what you tell me is going on. It’s about proof. And right now the police have witnesses willing to testify that they saw you and their suspect together on more than one occasion.”
“What witnesses? What are you talking about?”
“Coworkers and friends. Add to that Sergeant Jefferson’s testimony—”
Miranda stiffened, her muscles so taut she thought they might shatter. “About what?”
“About seeing you and the suspect together at your bakery.”
“That’s a lie!”
“Yeah? Well right now, it’s his word against yours. He’s a police officer and here. You’re on the run with some guy who’s got a record a mile long. Who do you think seems more believable?”
“Max—”
“Tell me where you are, Miranda. I’ll come get you and we’ll work things out. I promise.” His tone was persuasive, the same one he’d used so often to try to convince Lauren to do the right thing. He’d never had to convince Miranda.
Even now, she wanted to respond, to tell him what he wanted to hear, but the words died on her tongue, her mind shouting a warning that she couldn’t ignore. Liam had already told his side of the story. The police believed him, Miranda’s family seemed to believe him and, as much as she’d like to believe that people would step forward to defend her, Miranda knew the truth was much more grim. Her friends knew too little about her life to say with any certainty how she spent her days. Taking care of Justin had required most of her time and energy. She’d had little of either left for friendship. If she returned home now, she’d be arrested.
Or worse.
And if that happened, Max would go after whoever had hurt her.
An image of Liam pointing a gun at Hawke flashed through her mind and she imagined Max on the other end of the barrel, imagined the loud crack of gunfire and her brother falling lifeless to the ground. She couldn’t risk it, couldn’t allow him to be pulled into danger with her.
“Miranda? Are you still there?”
“I’m here, but I can’t come home yet, Max. Not until I can prove that I’m innocent.”
“We’ll find the proof together.” The pain in his voice was palpable, stretching across the phone line and wrapping around her heart.
“I love you, Max. Thanks for being such a great big brother.”
With that she hung up the phone, her pulse pounding, her mind racing, the truth of what she’d just done a hard, cold knot in her stomach. She’d cut her ties with home, turned her back on Max and put her life in the hands of a man she didn’t know and wasn’t sure she trusted. She could only pray she hadn’t made a terrible mistake, because she was sure there would be no turning back. Only moving forward into the terrifying unknown.
FOUR
“Did the phone call not go the way you wanted?” Hawke broke into Miranda’s thoughts, his voice gravely and harsh.
“You knew it wouldn’t.”
“I knew that it would give you a truth you might not have accepted from me.”
“What truth? That I’m wanted for accessory to murder?”
“That returning home isn’t the answer to your troubles.”
“And staying with you is?”
“It’s better than the alternative.”
“Which is?”
“Your body rotting in a shallow grave somewhere.”
“You act like it’s a done deal.”
“Walk away from me and it is. Stay with me and we’ll find what we need to prove our innocence. Once Liam and Green are behind bars, you can safely return to your family.”
What family?
As much as Miranda loved Max, he had a life completely separate from hers, his Chicago apartment too small to offer guest quarters, his accounting firm busy enough to make vacationing nearly impossible. Lauren was the opposite, traveling the world as a runway model and only stopping to visit Justin when she couldn’t put it off any longer. Or that’s what she’d done before. Now that her son was gone, Lauren would probably never return to Maryland. Which meant Miranda would be returning to an empty house, a business and memories.
She shoved the thought aside, forcing back the sorrow that came with it. “How long will it take?”
“I don’t know.”
“I need to be home tomorrow.” For Justin’s funeral. She didn’t add the last, knowing the words would mean nothing to the cold-eyed man beside her.
“Sorry, babe. That’s not going to happen.”
She’d known it, but she’d hoped anyway, the small part of herself that refused to believe that things were as bad as they seemed telling her that everything would be okay in the morning. A few more hours of darkness and she’d wake from the nightmare. Wasn’t that what she’d told herself when she’d been a kid, the darkness pressing in around her, filled with monsters? “Then what? A few days? A week? I’ve got a business to run. I can’t be away from it for long.”
“Will your business matter if you’re dead?”
There was nothing to say to that, so she remained silent, turning away from Hawke and staring out the car window.
Outside, life continued as always, people traveling home from restaurants, friends and parties, making plans for the next day as they ended this one. A week ago, Miranda had been doing the same, leaving home on Friday evening to attend a bridal shower on the eastern shore. With Lauren committed to caring for Justin until the following night, Miranda had imagined hours spent window shopping, sampling pastries from local bakeries, enjoying the simple pleasure of no responsibility for the first time in way too many months.
And in one moment of senseless tragedy it had all changed.
Even if she made it home in one piece, life would never be what it had once been. Hot tears filled Miranda’s eyes, but she forced them away. Crying couldn’t bring her nephew back. Nor would it change her situation. Only God could do that, and she wasn’t sure He would. Watching Justin die while she prayed for him to be healed had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. In the dark hours after his death, she’d wondered if God heard her frantic pleading or if He even cared. Now, she wanted desperately to grasp her tattered faith, to believe that He would work everything out for the best.
“You’re crying.” The gritty texture of Hawke’s voice matched the rough callus on the finger he swept down her cheek.
Her skin heated in the wake of his touch and she brushed her hand