The Truth About Family Read online

  “I see I’m not the only one who values their privacy,” she murmured, when Colin hesitated to answer. He smiled and nodded as if to say touché, but when he actually started to explain she found herself eager to listen.

  “My parents moved here when they retired,” he said, brushing away the small flakes of bread that had fallen from his bread bowl. “My sisters followed and shortly after, I did, too.”

  “An entire family transplanted. Who knew Granite Hills was such a huge draw?” Her smile was vaguely sardonic but she couldn’t help it. She’d spent the last fourteen years avoiding this place, yet Colin’s family had flocked to it. “How old is your daughter?”

  “Thirteen going on sixteen,” he answered grimly.

  “Ah. Do you guys have a good relationship?” she asked, unable to resist catching a glimpse of this man as a father.

  The heavy silence that followed made her wish she hadn’t asked. She hastened to change the subject when he gave a short, mirthless chuckle, the sound something Erin could certainly recognize.

  “We used to,” he answered, his mouth pulling into a tight line.

  “And?” she asked, ignoring her better judgment to let the conversation end. She had nothing to gain by getting to know this man. Her life was complicated enough.

  “And now we don’t.”

  The bitter retort was at odds with the sadness in his eyes and Erin knew she should have listened to that nagging little voice at the back of her brain. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.” If anyone could, it was her. “I shouldn’t have pried, anyway.”

  “No, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to snap,” he apologized, continuing with a rueful shake of his head. “The truth is, we’ve hit a rough patch and I’m having a hard time dealing with it. I’m kind of out of my element.”

  “What? You never fight?” What was that like? She bit down on her lip in retribution for her sarcasm. Now it was her turn to apologize. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I guess you could say I’m out of my element as well.”

  He laughed softly yet there were subtle lines bracketing his eyes. She pulled her gaze away from the wealth of concern she saw there but couldn’t help but wonder what was causing it. “Listen,” he started, leaning back in his chair. “I know this isn’t going to go over very well but I have to ask you something….”

  “What?”

  “It’s about your dad.”

  Erin stiffened. “What about him?” Then, she thought better of it. “On second thought, I really wish you wouldn’t.”

  “Wait—”

  “No!” Her heart rate accelerated and she had to make a concentrated effort not to press her fingers to the pulse point at her neck. “I don’t want to talk about my father. I know you think I’m being a cold-hearted bitch for refusing to see him but there are some things that just can’t be forgiven, all right?”

  Colin blanched and Erin stopped, wondering why he cared so much. Flustered, she just shook her head. “Nothing can change that, okay?”

  But for some reason it wasn’t okay and it wasn’t just because the man sitting across from her thought she was wrong; somehow it felt as if she were leaving unfinished business, which made no sense because she had tied up any loose ends she might have had with her father years ago. Hadn’t she? She glared at Colin, willing to believe whatever confusion she was having was directly attributed to his influence. “If there isn’t anything else, I really ought to get going,” she said, making a move to leave but a hand on her arm made her stop.

  “What if someone had tried to kill him?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “WHAT?” ERIN’S EYES WIDENED IN SHOCK.

  Colin knew he should’ve prefaced the question better but he hadn’t been thinking clearly. Although his first inclination in attending the funeral had been professional, once he saw Erin, stunned by the sea of people swarming around her, he’d felt a need to protect her that had nothing to do with his job. The unwelcome reaction had thrown him off-center and his mouth had started moving of its own accord.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly….”

  “No,” he assured her, “you heard me right. I asked if you knew of anyone who might have it in for your dad.”

  She sat back, stunned, and Colin cursed himself for acting like a rookie just because he was sitting in front of a woman that intrigued him, despite her prickly nature at times.

  “Do you have proof of this?” she asked, her tone disbelieving.

  “Not exactly.”

  She did a double take. “Then what are you saying?”

  “Probably something sounding pretty melodramatic—”

  “You got that right.”

  “But I’m following up on something that’s been bothering me about the accident and I thought you should know.”

  “So what is it that made you believe someone tried to kill Charlie?” she asked, shaking her head as if the motion might clear up her confusion.

  The brittle quality he’d seen earlier returned as she awaited his answer, but he sensed there was more going on beneath the surface of her stony expression than she was comfortable letting on. It was this hidden vulnerability that gentled his voice as he tried for more finesse this time around. “I didn’t mean to upset you. But, when I was going over the report I realized something I’d missed the first time around.”

  “Which was?”

  He eyed her intently to gauge her reaction. “There were no skid marks.”

  “So?”

  “So, usually in an accident there are skid marks. From the looks of it, he just plowed headlong into that tree like he had his foot pressed to the floor. Granted, it’s not a lot to go on but you have to admit, it doesn’t sound normal. Unless, he was trying to commit suicide, which doesn’t make sense either since Caroline was in the truck with him. But does that sound like something your dad would do?”

  “How should I know? I haven’t seen the man in fourteen years,” Erin returned, but there was something aside from just irritation in her voice. Uncertainty? Fear? The unknown quotient caused him to press a little harder.

  “Listen, I get that you guys didn’t get along—” he paused as she gave him a look that said understatement of the year “—but I don’t have anyone else I can ask. Your dad was a bit of a lone wolf from what I know of him. With Caroline gone…you’re the last person, aside from Charlie, who might have some answers.”

  “Unbelievable,” she muttered, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, her expression was wary. “What kind of questions do you have?”

  “Well, personal history for one,” he answered. “Who were his friends? Where did he go for fun? What did he do for a living? Things like that.”

  “Then I’m certainly not the right person to ask,” Erin answered, with an indelicate snort. “In case you weren’t listening, I haven’t seen or talked to my father in fourteen years. I wouldn’t have a clue what his life was like. All I can tell you is that I wasn’t in it.”

  She looked away but not before Colin caught the hidden hurt couched inside her declaration.

  “What happened? To keep you guys apart like that.”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.” She met his gaze squarely, almost in challenge. “It’s personal.”

  “In my experience, everything turns out to be personal in some way or another,” he said. He hadn’t planned on going down this road just yet, but it was too late to pull back now. “But perhaps there’s something in the past that might shed some light on the accident.”

  Her fingers twitched with her napkin until she became conscious of the telling gesture and withdrew both hands under the table. “Nothing that happened between my father and me has any bearing on what happened out on Old Copper Road,” she said, her voice carefully modulated despite the anger he felt coming from her in waves. “Please drop it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “It was an accident,” she said, her voice rising emphatically until she noted that her sudd
en outburst had attracted attention from the other patrons. Lowering her voice, she continued. “Why do you have to read anything into it? For God’s sake, it could’ve been anything. The weather was bad, the roads could’ve been icy, or maybe a deer jumped out in front of him. I don’t know…there are a million different possible explanations, none of which include some conspiracy theory. So there were no skid marks…big deal. I don’t see the relevance.”

  She cast a quick glance around to see if anyone was still watching them, then leaned back in her chair. “The truth is…Charlie was just a drunk. He was a sorry son of a bitch but I doubt anyone cared enough about him to want him dead.”

  She was probably right. “Perhaps,” he conceded, yet he still wanted to know what had happened between them. The problem was, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know for completely professional reasons. He shifted uncomfortably and uncertainty roughened his voice. “Perhaps not. But why don’t you let me be the judge of what’s relevant to my case.”

  He met her stare head-on, and after a tense moment, Erin gave a short exasperated sound that clearly communicated that she thought he was wasting his time and grabbed the small handbag at her feet. “Fine,” she said, standing. “Thanks for the company. It was nice talking to you and good luck on your wild-goose chase.”

  She gave him a smile that was nearly as plastic as the chair he was sitting on and left, leaving Colin to stare after her in surprise. He hadn’t thought she’d react that way, though he wasn’t sure what he’d expected after deliberately pushing her buttons like that. But, as he watched her hurry across the street, he realized he didn’t want to let the conversation end as it did.

  “Not so fast, shutterbug,” he muttered to himself as he quickly followed her outside, his voice rising. “Erin, wait up a minute!”

  For a half second he thought she was going to keep on going, regardless of what he said, but just as he caught up with her, she turned and they nearly collided. Her eyes widened and her hands flew up in an instinctive motion. She leaned into his chest, electrifying his skin despite the layers of clothing between them, until she jerked away as if she’d been scalded.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, the question coming out with a gasp, as she took a quick glance around to see if anyone had caught their near mishap. “You almost knocked me into a snowbank.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t run off like a scared bunny, I wouldn’t have had to chase after you,” he said defensively, his breathing a little erratic from the sizzle still warming his body. Her jaw hardened and he almost chuckled despite the glare directed toward him. Well, he could’ve called her something less cute and cuddly but she didn’t seem to take that into consideration as her expression became downright hostile. “As I was saying—” he returned her narrowed stare “—you’re the only one who can answer certain questions pertaining to your family. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but there’s nothing I can do about that.”

  Erin opened her mouth, but as he shifted on the balls of his feet, moving subtly to reveal the badge partially hidden by his overcoat, she snapped it shut. He was willing to bet that he’d just been christened a name a person couldn’t repeat in polite company and, though it shouldn’t matter, the thought didn’t sit well.

  “Ask your questions but don’t be surprised if I don’t know the answers.”

  Fat flakes of snow landed on her head as the storm started to worsen and Colin gestured toward the deli. “Let’s go back inside,” he said, assuming she’d follow.

  “No,” she answered, causing him to turn in surprise. “We can finish right here.”

  Another flake landed on her cheek and slowly melted, looking like a tear as the moisture slid down her face. He ought to give her a break. The woman had been through hell and he was only adding to what was surely a very bad day, but he had a sinking suspicion that if he didn’t keep pushing for answers while he had her here, the moment he turned his back she’d hop a plane and he’d be screwed. He gave her a stern look and pointed at the darkened sky.

  “I know it’s been a while since you’ve been home but in case you’ve forgotten, the stuff that’s falling from the sky is called snow and we’re about to get a lot of it. I, for one, don’t want to catch pneumonia.” He jerked his thumb toward the deli. “It’s either the deli or the station, make your choice.”

  She gave him a look that pretty much said that any conversation from this point forward would be unpleasant and stalked past him.

  As Colin followed he heard his mother’s voice in his head, reminding him that he could catch more flies with honey than vinegar. But he realized with a regretful sigh, he may have just tangled with the equivalent of an emotional diabetic.

  ERIN LEFT THE DELI A SHORT time later still angry and more than a little conflicted. Who would want to kill Charlie? If anyone had a right to feel that way about the man, it was her, not some stranger who hadn’t lived with him. Her gaze strayed in the direction of Granite Hills Medical, where her father remained in critical condition and the unwelcome sensation of fear pierced her heart. What if it were true? It was hard to fathom but she sensed that Colin wasn’t the type to make something out of nothing, which was why she’d reluctantly agreed to take him out to Charlie’s cabin tomorrow to search for possible clues.

  At first, his heavy-handed tactics had enabled her to convince herself that whatever she’d been feeling earlier had been exactly what she’d been afraid of—misplaced attraction—but once they’d returned to the deli he’d gone and offered an apology and she’d relented. He was, after all, just doing his job. No, she countered fiercely as she stalked to the Tahoe, he was opening up a closet that held more than its share of skeletons. And if he knew how long she’d kept that door locked and bolted perhaps he’d understand why she had no interest whatsoever in opening it again.

  Her cell phone jangled to life and she reached with clumsy fingers into her purse to retrieve it. She smothered a groan as the name Harvey Wallace flashed on the screen. Knowing that if she let the call go to voice mail he’d just keep calling, she answered with an attempt at keeping the edge from her voice, but Harvey’s bark in her ear sent her blood pressure skyrocketing.

  “McNulty!”

  “What?” She snapped back before she could help it. Watch it, girl. Don’t let him get to you. She cleared her voice, trying for a more professional tone. “What is it, Harvey?”

  “How’s the assignment going?”

  She frowned. “Seeing as I just got here the day before yesterday, I’d say it’s not going at all yet. Why?”

  “Deadline’s been moved. I need the proofs by Monday.”

  Erin gasped. She was good but not that good. “Impossible. That’s only five days from now.”

  “And?”

  She pressed her lips together and prayed for restraint, though in her present state of mind, she wasn’t entirely sure she’d make it. Counting silently to five, she tried for calm. “And…I’m not sure I can get the shots you’re looking for in that short amount of time. When you gave me the assignment I was given three weeks. Now, you’re cutting it down to barely a week. If you want shoddy pictures send someone else because I’m not putting my name, and reputation, on a spread that’s half-ass.”

  There was a long pause and Erin checked her phone to see if the connection had been dropped. She brought the phone back to her ear just as Harvey started talking again. “Fine,” he said tersely. “Two weeks. No longer…or I will replace you.”

  The line died and Erin almost tossed the phone into a snowbank. Jackass. She rubbed at her nose, which had started tingling from the cold, and climbed into the Tahoe.

  Despite Colin’s prediction, the snow had actually slowed, which meant good news for the festival. The words of Dolores Gottileri rang in her head and she found herself half considering volunteering at the cocoa booth—if only to avoid spending too much time at the house. A group of kids walked by, laughing and chattering, dressed like an ad out of L.L. Bean, and Erin felt a smile wantin
g to form. On the outside, Granite Hills was the very picture of hometown America. Historic churches, cobblestone streets, quaint storefronts placed on foundations that had been standing since the 1800s and ice-skating in the town square—it was something off a postcard. Her smile faded with the knowledge that places such as the ones Harvey wanted on his pages didn’t really exist—no matter how hard you wished they did.

  DANNI IGNORED EVERY ATTEMPT her dad made at conversation as they drove to the Winter Festival. She’d tried getting out of it but he wouldn’t budge. Two can play at that game, she thought spitefully, tightening her lips together.

  When he finally gave up and continued the drive in silence, Danni was relieved. She’d never admit it but this fight with her dad was killing her. Before she’d found out that her dad was a liar, Danni would’ve defended him against anyone. But that was before she’d learned that he’d kept not only the truth from her, but he’d kept her from knowing her mother. There wasn’t an excuse he could offer that she would understand. If her dad weren’t a cop, she’d swear he’d done something illegal. But, even as the mean thought entered her mind, she had to discard it. Her father was the epitome of a good cop. He didn’t bend the rules or allow anyone else to, either. She frowned. So, why had her mother allowed him to just take her away? She shot a look at her dad. He was the only one who could give her the answers, but she couldn’t trust him anymore.

  She looked away before her dad caught her staring. An awful queasy feeling made her mouth water, as if she were going to throw up and tears welled in her eyes. Life sucks, she thought, giving in to the self-pity that threatened to swallow her whole.

  The old truck lumbered to a stop and her dad put it into Park. “Let’s get that wood to Henry,” he said as he climbed out. “We’re running a little behind and the bonfire should already be started.”

  Danni gave him a caustic stare for his reference to their tardiness but it was lost in the dark. He was blaming her for their being late when it was his fault. If he hadn’t insisted on dragging her here against her will, he could have delivered his stupid wood on time.