“Don’t hmm me.” He yanked her ponytail. “Can I catch a few Z’s before I take you out for a fantastic lunch?”
“I insist on it.” She kissed his cheek. “Oh, I went by your office this morning on my way to meet Mom for breakfast.” She brushed a lock of hair from his brow. “Your partner said you’d taken off early.”
“I did.” Brit set the glass in the sink.
“He seems nice.” A sly smile teased the corners of her mouth. “Is he married?”
“Quarles? John Quarles?”
“Yeah.”
Brit frowned. “Why do you care?”
“Because he asked me to have breakfast with him.”
“I thought you were meeting Mom.”
“I was, and I did. But he asked for a rain check.” Her smile faded. “What’s wrong? Is he married? Gay? A womanizer?”
“No. He’s not married, not gay, but all men are womanizers.” He pointed at her. “I don’t want you seeing him.”
“Why not?” She snapped her chin up.
“Because if you have sex with him, I might hear about it. And then I’ll have to kill him. That’s a brother’s job. To kill any asshole who has sex with his sister.”
Susan laughed. “I tell you what, if I have sex with him, I’ll tell him not to brag about how good I was. How’s that?”
“Friggin’ fantastic,” Brit snapped. “No. Seriously, no. Don’t go there.”
Her eyes went tight. “I think I’ve grown past the age where little brother tells big sis what she can and can’t do. So give up trying.” She nudged him in the ribs. “Now, go get some sleep.”
That didn’t mean she was going to date Quarles, did it? Too tired to think straight, too tired to argue, he shuffled down the hall.
“Hey?” Susan voice made him pause at his bedroom door. “Are you going to bring Cali to Mom’s party? There’s going to be dancing.”
“No,” he called back over his shoulder and crawled into the bed, fluffed the pillow, and waited for sheer exhaustion to take him under. By God, he needed to sleep. Sleep like he had last night for those few hours at Cali’s hotel room. Deep sleep.
Real sleep.
Instead, he tossed and turned, and his mind flipped images in his head—images of Keith, of the two corpses, and images of Cali in pink lacy underwear. He didn’t know how his mind could change channels from the horror of death to a soft woman in sexy pink underwear, but his mind did what it wanted. He finally dozed off, but he never fell into a deep sleep.
At eleven he got up and showered. Walking into his bedroom, he tugged on the towel hanging around his waist, visions of pink underwear still dangled in his mind. He tried to call Cali at the school. Her main line rang, but a machine picked up. He smiled when he heard Cali’s voice on the recording. Dropping the phone, he didn’t leave a message. But he called back again just to put a voice to the fantasy that had teased him awake. The one where he’d finally removed those panties.
~
The message machine on Cali’s desk blinked. Two hang ups that listed as an unknown number. She turned a pencil in her hand and wondered why she expected to hear from Brit. She was a case to him. That’s all she wanted it to be.
She started drawing hearts on a notepad. Liar, she thought and scratched out a heart. She wanted more. But deep down, she knew this was one lie she needed to overlook. Plain and simple, she was in no emotional shape to let what she felt for Brit go anywhere.
She remembered what the counselor said. She had a tendency to fall for men like her dear old dad. Men who yelled and threw things. Men who left.
Then she remembered what her mom said. She was a fixer. And Brit Lowell needed fixing. Just like she did. Was it wrong to want to fix someone who was in the same boat you were in?
Releasing her hair from the banana clip, she stared at the phone. Then she remembered the call she’d told herself she’d make.
She found Sara’s number and dialed. “Hi, is this Sara?”
“Yes,” the voice answered.
“It’s Miss McKay.”
“Miss McKay? At school?”
“The same one.” Cali tried to keep her tone light. “I was just calling to see how things are. I missed seeing you yesterday, and I just wondered if everything was okay.”
“It’s fine, I guess.” Sara’s voice came out low. “Mom saw the doctor. They said they’ll probably do surgery next week. They’re hoping they can just remove the lump.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Cali told her, hoping she sounded positive.
“I hope so.” There was hesitation in Sara’s voice. “But shouldn’t she get a second opinion?”
“She hasn’t gotten a second opinion?” Cali asked.
“No. She seems to like the doctor, but when I went to the office with her, he called her by the wrong name. I just got this strange feeling that if he didn’t care enough to even get her name right, then how could we put her life in his hands?”