anything about Charlene Banks.”
“I told you I didn’t,” Eric said irritably. “And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You’d probably hunt her down and arrest her instead of that sorry-ass old man of hers who beats her every other day.”
Cain gritted his teeth. Damn his little brother’s vigilante ways. Eric had a good heart, but his methods weren’t always on the up-and-up. The very reason Cain had had to stop by. Official police business.
He jammed his hands in his pockets, forcing himself to study Eric’s reaction as he made the announcement. “Her sorry-ass husband is dead.”
Eric hesitated, but only for a split second, before he threw his head back and laughed. “Nice present for her. I hope he suffered like hell.”
Cain silently agreed. But he was a cop, and he lived his life by the law. He had to think in terms of black-and-white, not shades of gray, as his brother did. “Look, my captain suspects you’re running some covert operations here. I can’t keep covering for you.”
“Covering for me?” Eric stabbed his cigarette into an empty cola can, stuffed his laptop into a black leather case, then slung the strap over his shoulder. “Is that what you call hauling my butt in for questioning three times this year?”
“They were all legitimate cases. What choice did I have?” Cain’s patience snapped. “I know you’re helping abused women find cover, which is not a bad thing, but what about that drug dealer who disappeared?”
“I don’t know anything about him,” Eric argued. “Don’t you have something better to do than harass me, like look for some real crooks?”
Cain clenched his jaw. “Where’s the witness in the Bronsky case, Eric?”
“What?” Sarcasm laced Eric’s voice. “Did the police lose another witness?”
“We do the best we can. Do you know where he is?”
“Can’t help you, bro.”
“You can’t go around undermining the cops and the FBI, Eric, or killing every criminal who escapes the system.”
His brother glared at him, blue eyes blazing. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
Cain swallowed. Why did he even try? They would never see eye to eye. Yet he loved him all the same.
“I just don’t want to see you get in trouble. It’s like you’re on a death mission, taking everything into your own hands. One day you’re going to cross the wrong people.”
“Like you don’t cross the wrong kind of people all the time.” Eric grabbed his keys off the battered dresser and strode toward the door.
“It’s not the same thing. I’ve got people covering me. You’re on your own.”
Eric hesitated momentarily, his shoulders squared. “You could quit the force and help me. Make it your New Year’s resolution.”
“New Year’s has come and gone.” Their gazes locked briefly and Cain’s stomach clenched. Eric was serious.
But Cain could not straddle the line. He had sworn to uphold the law and do it honestly and he’d die trying to do just that. “You could join the force, make enforcing the law your focus.”
“I guess we’ve hit that impasse again,” Eric said quietly.
Cain clamped down on his jaw and shook his head, frustrated and worried. “Watch your back. If you get in trouble—”
“Then you’ll be there to help me.” A cocky grin slid on his brother’s face. “Now, I’d love to stay and argue politics, but I gotta go.”
Cain caught him by the arm before he could fly past. “Where are you going?”
Eric stared him down hard, the dark emotions in his eyes a reminder of the bond they’d shared growing up. The painful memories—the awful fights in his house, the night their mother had given up and committed suicide.
Eric had only been ten. The police had let them down then, the very reason he justified using his own methods. The reason he refused to work with the police.
But Cain had done the opposite—he’d made enforcing the law his life.
“I have business to take care of,” Eric said in a quiet voice. “Legitimate business with the ranch.”
Cain studied him for a long moment, then finally nodded, although he didn’t believe him for a second. He released him anyway, then stood in the doorway and watched while Eric threw his bag over his shoulder, stalked down the long driveway behind his cabin to the lean-to he’d built as a carport for his Jeep. Eric had built the cover near the woods so the sun wouldn’t blister his new paint job. Ironic, since the Jeep would take a mud bath going through the north Georgia mountains to get to his ranch. If that was where Eric was really going.
Dark clouds rolled in, obliterating the fledgling rays of sun. The wind howled off the lake, like it had the day his mother had taken her own life.
Her screams haunted him.
He shook away the thought and focused on the present. The smell of parched earth, dead leaves and something even more threatening filtered through the air. Cain’s instincts screamed that something was wrong. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. Like the winter storm gathering on the horizon, he had a feeling the wheels had already been set in motion.
And he had no idea how to stop them.
Cain turned to face the opposite direction, wishing one more time he could get through to his brother. Behind him, a cricket chirped, then Eric’s car roared to life. Cain gripped the doorknob to shut the front door when an explosion rent the air. The wooden boards beneath Cain’s feet shook with the impact.
It wasn’t thunder.
Cain spun around. Horror immobilized him as Eric’s car erupted into flames. He tamped down his emotions and catapulted into motion.
By the time he made it down the driveway, another explosion rocked the ground. The gas tank exploded, and fire shot into the air. Cain yelled his brother’s name as he ran for the door. But heat scalded his face, the force of it knocking him backward. It was too late.
Eric was gone forever.
Chapter Two
“Hush, Simon, honey, everything’s going to be all right. We’re going to meet someone today who’ll help us.” Alanna rubbed her temple where a headache pulsed, fighting panic.
She didn’t understand why Eric Caldwell hadn’t met them at the Three Dollar Café for lunch as he’d promised. When she’d spoken to him last night from the hotel, he’d seemed eager to help her.
He’d advised her to disguise herself, so she’d bought a dye kit, whacked off her honey-colored hair and colored her hair black.
But she and Simon had waited for two hours at the café and he hadn’t shown. She fastened Simon into the car seat, and drove away.
Staying in one place might give the men following her time to catch up. And although she had no idea who they were, she was certain they were after her. Twice, she’d spotted the same dark car behind her. But she’d managed to lose them in the rain and traffic. Was Arnold Hughes head of this secret project the scientist had been working on?
Simon twisted his tiny hands into fists, flailing them around, his face red with fury. “It’s okay, honey, we’ll stop in a bit and I’ll see if you need changing.”
She reached behind her and tried to slip a pacifier into his mouth, but he spit it out, his legs and arms circling as his sobs escalated. So did the rain.
It was coming in thick sheets now, just as it had yesterday when she’d left Savannah. Tears pressed against Alanna’s eyelids, but she blinked furiously to control them and darted around a Ford pickup. More than