Shielding the Suspect. C.J. Miller

Shielding the Suspect - C.J. Miller


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looked at her unblinking, emotionless. “I don’t know what happened. I saw the flames, called 911 and rushed inside. I didn’t hear your smoke detectors going off.”

      Had they malfunctioned? Or was something more sinister afoot? Susan had never been the paranoid type, but events over the past week had put her on high alert. “Why are you here?” she asked again.

      Brady shifted on his legs and stood, shaking out his right leg. “I explained the other day why I’ve been hanging around. Reilly’s gotten caught up in this and I need the truth. He’s worried about you, and given the current state of his career, he can’t look out for you. He wants me to.”

      Susan’s jaw slackened. Her friendship with Reilly didn’t include talking about Brady often. He was a subject they both avoided. Reilly knew she wouldn’t be comfortable with Brady involved in her life. “I asked you to leave me alone and you were spying on me?”

      He blew out his breath. “No, Susan, come on. I was making sure you were safe.”

      Had he been the person she’d sensed watching her? She shivered, feeling a combination of cold and uneasy. “Did you look in my windows?”

      Brady’s eyes narrowed in indignation. “No, dang, Susan, I’m not a creepy pervert. I was making sure you got home from work safely and no one was harassing you.”

      “I’m trying to handle things.” She shivered again and rubbed her arms. Brady removed his jacket and slipped it over her body. It smelled like a combination of smoke and Brady. The scent of him was both comforting and arousing.

      Brady glanced at her burning house. “I’m seeing a number of threats coming in your direction and while I know you’re independent and can handle yourself, I don’t know if you realize who you’re up against.”

      Brady wanted to help her. Protect her. Had Brady figured out something she hadn’t? Susan had tried to sort out how her life had spun out of control. She had tried to remember what had happened the night Justin had died. She had come up empty on answers in both cases.

      Every time Justin’s name came to mind, which was at least a hundred times a day, guilt and hurt slammed her in the gut. That she wasn’t emotionally shattered by his death only compounded the guilt. She missed him and she was sorry for his family and what they were going through, but she wasn’t experiencing the gut-twisting, heart-wrenching heartbreak of lost love. She had been on his boat before he’d died and she couldn’t recall anything to help the police. Had she been involved? She wasn’t a temperamental woman, but the circumstances made her question everything.

      Justin had been a good man. He’d deserved better than a violent death. “I don’t know who I’m up against because I don’t know anyone who would do this to me.”

      “Justin’s murderer.”

      Susan tried to wrap her mind around Brady’s words. “If the person who killed Justin wanted me dead, they could have killed me that night, too.”

      Brady’s face took on a serious expression. “My theory is that you were a good scapegoat for his murder and now that enough time has passed to leave the investigative trail cold, you’re a loose end that needs to be tied off.”

      Chapter 2

      Brady’s words slammed into her like a hammer. Someone wanted her dead? “Who would kill Justin and try to hurt me?” Susan asked.

      “That’s the big question,” Brady said.

      Susan rubbed at her temples where a headache of massive proportions was brewing. “This doesn’t make any sense. I don’t have enemies.”

      Brady inclined his head. “You don’t exactly have any friends in your corner right now either. Well, except my brothers and me.”

      If she allowed Brady in her life, would he explain why he had walked out of it to begin with and give her closure?

      No, that wasn’t like Brady. Discussing emotions wasn’t on the agenda. As much as she had wanted to be part of his world, as intimate as her relationship had been with Brady, she had never reached the status of being family to him. She remained outside his inner circle, an inner circle he didn’t allow anyone inside except his parents and his brothers. Bitterness oozed from her chest and she worked to hide it. She had tried. She’d put her best into her relationship with Brady, and despite their chemistry and the effort she’d made, it had still failed.

      If nothing else, his reappearance in her life had given her something to think about aside from the fire and Justin’s death. Though she hated to admit it, she felt safer with Brady around. He had a way of taking control of a situation and putting her at ease.

      But how much could she rely on him? Was he sticking around this time, or would he bail if it got too complicated? History could repeat itself.

      The cold had begun to cut through his jacket and her nightshirt. She shivered and rubbed her legs. Approaching sirens sounded in the distance.

      “Come with me,” Brady said. “I have a blanket in my truck.”

      He helped her to her feet and limped to his truck, one arm supporting her. Brady hadn’t answered her question about his injury. He was in pain, but he hid it well. Brady dug a blanket from the back of his truck, wrapped it around her legs and told her to wait in the cab. The truck sheltered her from the wind and biting cold, but not from the view of her home.

      Her house was still in flames, her possessions destroyed. All she had left were the pajamas she was wearing and the necklace she’d gotten from Haley, one of the few people who’d stood beside her since Justin’s death. Susan watched helplessly as the fire trucks arrived and firefighters hooked up their hoses, pouring water onto the farmhouse. Despite their efforts, it was too late to do any good. The farmhouse was old, the wiring outdated, and the fire had been merciless.

      No one had been hurt, and she was glad of that, but everything that mattered to her had been taken in an instant.

      The ambulance arrived and the paramedic assessed them both, first treating Brady, who had an injury on his arm. An EMT procured a pair of sweatpants, a sweatshirt and a pair of shoes from a neighbor for Susan to wear over her nightshirt.

      Hadn’t she suffered her share of heartbreak in the past week? What did she have left? Her eyes drifted to Brady. Once the most important man in her life, she couldn’t trust him. He’d hurt her once. He’d do it again.

      Two police officers walked toward her and dread coiled in Susan’s stomach. She had no reason to fear these officers and yet, her experiences with the police in the last week had been less than stellar. Borderline catastrophic.

      When they approached, Brady broke away from the paramedic and came closer, positioning himself at her side. “Thank you for the speedy response time,” Brady said to the officers.

      Susan glanced at him. Nothing on his face gave away sarcasm. Why was he playing nice? Reilly was a detective, one of the best. Did Brady know these officers through his brother?

      “We need some information from you,” one of the officers said, directing the statement at Susan.

      When she’d been brought in for questioning after Justin’s murder, she’d known to ask for a lawyer. Did she need one now? “Do I need an attorney?” Asking the question made her feel guilty though she’d done nothing wrong.

      The two officers exchanged looks.

      “We’re not holding you under suspicion of starting the fire. If our investigation leads in that direction, we will need you available for questions,” the other officer said.

      “If you’re uncomfortable saying anything now, we can go to the station later with your lawyer,” Brady said.

      Brady was behaving as if they were friends. They weren’t friends. They were barely civil to each other, tonight being the exception. “I can talk now,” she said.

      Susan


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