The first ferry of tourists at the end of April usually brought a sense of jubilance. However, this year, it had Brick staring grimly at each passenger as they disembarked. He’d kept vigilant watch as the ferry lines began their regular runs again, bringing freight, supplies, and seasonal workers back to the tiny island.
Warren Vorhees’s face, one he’d never seen in person, was emblazoned in his brain. Trouble was coming. He could feel it in his gut. Knew Chief Ford sensed it, too. She stood next to him, her face impassive as always as she watched a family of four disembark for a chilly day of fun.
Brick envied them. Wished he could be escorting Remi out to her pick of restaurants that were now opened.
But circumstances being what they were with danger lurking nebulously just off the radar, he could only keep her close and wait.
Less than a week after Remi’s ill-conceived call to Camille, security footage of her attacking Warren in the hospital was leaked to the press.
The entire story had blown up again, the flames fed this time with quotes from the Vorhees.
She’d pretended it didn’t bother her. But Brick knew better. Every time she came in from the studio, green eyes rimmed red, Brick vowed to destroy the man. Take him apart piece by piece for every moment of pain he’d caused her.
So he’d begun in the most natural place. By alerting Vorhees that there was an obstacle. Him.
“What the fuck did you do?” Remi’s reaction had been loud and emotional. “Are you trying to make yourself a target?”
It was exactly why he’d sent the pictures to Rajesh. One Kimber had taken of them locked in an embrace in Remi’s studio as they flirted with an argument about dinner. Another, a selfie Remi had taken of the two of them in bed. She was beaming at the camera while Brick watched her with an undeniable hunger, his hand clamped over her shoulder and neck. It reflected only a tenth of the possessiveness he felt over her. But it served a purpose. It sent a message.
It had taken her agent less than two hours to have the pictures appearing on dozens of blogs and news sites.
Then he’d gone to the chief. Once the screaming match between mother and daughter was over, they’d prepared. They’d kept the circle small, including a few key members of the department, sticking with residents and year-rounders they knew they could trust. Chief Ford had also read in a few of the more trustworthy, eagle-eyed residents on the general situation. It was a small town. Someone would see him. Someone would report him.
“Maybe he’ll send someone to do his dirty work. Someone we won’t see coming?” Darlene mused beside him, steam rising from her coffee.
He shook his head. “He’ll want to end this himself. He’s hands-on that way.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth.
Brick’s father may have been cavalier when it came to things like the law and the gray areas between right and wrong, but the man had never raised a hand to a woman. It was a line that real men never crossed. “You’d better hope that we catch him first then,” Darlene said, her cool green gaze finding some far off point on the water to fixate on. “Some of our fine folks are itching for a good fight after that winter.”
“He’s mine,” Brick said coldly.
“I get that you want to be the one slapping the cuffs on him.”
He wondered what the chief would think if she knew exactly what he felt compelled to do to the man who’d almost ended Remi’s life. He should have wrestled with it himself. He was a man of the law. Of strong morals and a belief in rules and the reasons to follow them. But Vorhees wasn’t human and therefore didn’t deserve to have that same moral code applied to him.
He wanted to end him. To extinguish the threat so that the woman he loved would be safe. Would stay safe.
The last of the passengers exited the boat, a woman with a knapsack and suitcase. She beamed at both of them as she hustled toward the road.
People came to Mackinac for adventure, for the community.
But sooner or later, a monster would come to destroy.
“Don’t let it cloud you,” Darlene said, turning away from the ferry.
He followed her down the concrete pier toward the ticket booth and Lake Shore Drive, where fresh tourists eagerly clustered around maps.
“I won’t,” he said.
This time those green eyes assessed him. “Don’t let a monster turn you into one,” she said. “I’ve known you a long time, Will. Long enough to know that you’ve got an extra large heart beating under all that muscle. I know you’d do anything to keep the ones you care about safe. That you’d go the extra mile to protect them. I also know that Remi can inspire strong feelings. Don’t let those feelings push you across a line you don’t really want to cross.”
There wasn’t a line he wouldn’t cross for Remington Ford. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, chief.”
“I have no doubt. Just make sure you don’t get yourself hurt in the process.”
He nodded. “Any updates on the shopkeeper in North Carolina?” In Remi’s research, she’d stumbled across the name of an old girlfriend of the senator’s. A woman who had moved across the country, deleting her social media and starting fresh in a small town. Darlene had volunteered to talk to her woman to woman.
“She won’t talk. Scared to death, the poor thing. I managed to get out of her that there was an NDA. Beyond that, she doesn’t want to be involved.”
He blew out a breath through his nose. “I’ve got a half-assed affidavit from the Vorhees’s former housekeeper. She saw bruises, evidence of struggles, but never witnessed anything.”
“In other words, we’ve still got bupkis,” the chief said.
“When Remi talked to Camille, she mentioned re-election,” Brick said, his gaze studying each face on the street, comparing it to the one he was searching for.
Darlene pursed her lips. “Maybe there’s something there. Guy tries to murder his wife, why wouldn’t he play it fast and loose with his campaign finances? He’s above the law. The rules don’t apply to him. I’ll make a few calls to see if I can find out if there’s an active investigation.”
Brick nodded. In a perfect world, he’d keep Vorhees occupied with law enforcement in Chicago or D.C., keeping him far away from Remi.
His phone buzzed on his belt.
“Dad?” he answered briskly. Darlene gave him a salute and strolled off.
“How’s the weather up north?”
“Do you have something for me?” Brick asked, not in the mood for small talk.
William cleared his throat. “Uh, I might. Maybe a source. I might be able to convince him to go on the record.”
Brick’s grip tightened on the phone. “You were only supposed to be keeping tabs on Vorhees,” he reminded him. He could trust his father to follow a trail, but not jump into the middle of a mess like this. Not with Remi at stake.
“That’s exactly what I’ve been doing,” William assured him. “But in doing that, I may have struck up an acquaintanceship of sorts.”
“What did you do, Dad?” he asked, starting to feel panicky.
“I merely helped one of Vorhees’s staffers out of a jam in a scuffle at a bar. Got him out the door just before the cops came. He’s feeling appreciative.”
“What does he do for Vorhees?”
“Security. I read the room and mentioned how I wouldn’t mind getting some information on his boss’s questionable activities.”
Brick wanted to crawl through the phone and wring his father’s neck.
“Did he give you anything, or did you just put a target on Remi’s back?”
“Son, this ain’t my first rodeo. I told my new friend that I wouldn’t mind making a few bucks off his boss and I’d be inclined to share the proceeds if he was helpful. This was after I saw the senator spit in the man’s face when he tried to help Mrs. Vorhees into a car. The senator didn’t seem to like that.”
Fucker.
“You told the personal security of a United States Senator that you intended to blackmail his boss?”
“Well, if you want it in a nutshell, then yeah.”
Brick closed his eyes. “That was not a smart move. If word gets back to Vorhees—”
“It won’t,” William assured him. “He’s the source you’ve been looking for. Insider. Been kicked around by the rich boss. Not feeling too loyal. Best of all, he knows a lot of dirt. “
“What kind of dirt?” Brick asked.
“Seems that the boss called him to pick him up at the airport a few months back. He wasn’t due back in Chicago for another three days. When he got there, Vorhees took his car and told him to catch a ride home. Never saw his car again. It was a Chevy Tahoe.”
Brick’s mind ran through the timing.
“Fuck,” he swore.
“Senator Vorhees was so appreciative he gave the guy a brand new Escalade.”
“That still doesn’t prove anything,” Brick pointed out, frustration rising.
“I’d be inclined to agree if I didn’t have pictures on my phone of the wreck. Tracked it down to a junkyard in the ’burbs. Looks like it hit something head-on. I also have the Lyft receipt of our friend getting picked up from the airport that night.”
This was something. Something he could work with.
“Will he talk?” Brick demanded.
“I’m working on that. If there’s money in it for him, he has no problem singing like a goddamn canary. But it’s going to take some time to make him comfortable with the idea of the cops.”
“Make him.”
“This takes finesse, son. I’ll do my best.”
Great. Brick’s best shot at ending this before Vorhees came hunting was to trust his unreliable father to deliver results without leading a madman straight to Mackinac.
“He also mentioned he’s seen the senator get a little rough with his wife,” William added. “Didn’t go so far as to say he beats her. But he and some other team members have noticed it.”
Without Camille’s corroboration, they still had a whole lot of unsubstantiated rumors. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.
“Okay,” he breathed into the phone. “Okay. Let’s see where this lead goes. I’ll see about wiring some money if that’s what it’s going to take to get him to talk.”
“This girl must really mean something to you,” William observed. The smile Brick heard in his father’s voice annoyed him.
“My feelings for Remi have nothing to do with bringing a man to justice.”
“Of course not,” William replied, sounding smug. “But you have to know that paying a witness for testimony would shoot more holes in your case than a slice of swiss cheese.”
“Fine. Then I’ll make him talk.”
“Let me handle it. I’ll see what I can do.”
Brick blew out a breath. “Keep me posted,” he said.
“Will do.”
He disconnected before his father could switch back to small talk mode.
Looking around him at the storefronts, glass gleaming, products positioned just so, restaurants with their specials boards, he felt a rising sense of helplessness.
He needed to see her. Needed to touch her and remind himself that she was safe, for now. She was safe and she was here. For now.
Brick unhitched Cleetus from the post on the street and pointed him in the direction of home.
He was just jogging up the porch steps when his front door opened and a miserable-looking Kyle Olson stepped outside.
“Olson,” Brick said.
“Callan.” Kyle was dressed down in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. An odd outfit for a trial lawyer on a Wednesday. He looked like he wanted to say something. Brick hoped he wouldn’t because he still felt pissed off enough to punch someone.
“I just don’t know what she wants from me, man,” Kyle said, shoving a hand through his thick blond hair, making it stand up on end.
Brick stifled a groan.
“When we were engaged, she wanted to be a mom and stay home and raise a family. She wanted to live here on this fucking expensive-ass island. So that’s what we did. Now, it’s not good enough. I became a trial lawyer because I needed the salary to pay off student loans and make everything else on Kimber’s wishlist happen. And now it’s not good enough.”
All he wanted to do was go inside and grab his girl.
“People change,” Brick observed.
“I get that. But how about a heads-up? How about giving me a shot to play catch up?”
Brick knocked his head back against one of the porch supports. “I don’t want to get involved.”
“My wife and kids and dog are living in your house. You’re involved.”
“I don’t want to get involved, but from the outside, she’s been giving you nothing but heads-ups for the past few years,” he said stonily. “You’re the one who ignored them. You’re the one who decided to be a lawyer first and everything else second. No woman wants to come in second place with her husband. No mother wants her kids to come in second with their father.”
“So what the fuck do I do?”
“Fix it,” Brick said and stomped past him into the house.
“Remi?” he bellowed from the foyer. Mega raced toward him, barking. When the dog reached him, he stopped, licked Brick’s hand, and then trotted into the dining room to collapse in a sunbeam.
“She’s in the studio,” Kimber called back from the bowels of the house.
He stuck his head in the living room. Kimber had taken over the round pedestal table next to the bookcases. She was frowning at her laptop, printouts and folders covering the tabletop.
“What’s all this?” he asked.
“A little project I’m working on,” she said, looking up from the screen. Her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You look like something’s wrong.”
“I just ran into your husband on the porch.”
She shrugged. “Who knew all I needed to do to get him to take a day off was ask for a divorce?” she said grimly.
“Are you sure Remi’s in the studio?”
On cue, the music changed, and they heard Remi belt out a few Missy Elliott verses.
“Yeah. Pretty sure,” Kimber said. “What did she do now?”
“Nothing. Everything is fine. Why do you ask?”
“Usually it’s only my sister that can put that half pissed-off, half panicked look on your face.”
“Everything is fine,” he repeated.
She raised an eyebrow. “You know, you can trust us to worry with you. You don’t have to carry it alone. She’s my sister.”
He still itched to see her, to poke his head in the doorway of the studio and make sure she was there. Safe. His.
“I know,” he said finally. “It’s under control.”
She pinned him with a mom look. “Are you forgetting who my mother is? My sister and I don’t need to be protected from the truth.”
In the past, he’d found that giving Remi the least amount of information possible had helped keep her in line. It’s when she knew what dangers lay ahead that she made some of her worst choices.
But Kimber was another story.
“The plan is to stop him before he ever comes near Mackinac, let alone this house,” he told her.
“Judging from the look on your face, it’s not going well,” she guessed.
The song in the studio changed to something with a thrumming beat. It tugged at him, pulling him toward Remi.
“It’s a slower process than I’d like it to be.” It was as much as he was willing to give her.
“Keep me posted,” she told him. “You might be used to dealing with Remi, but unlike her, I only use information for good. I want to know when I need to start worrying.”
He nodded.
It felt wrong to have to keep the people he cared about updated on a threat he hadn’t yet mitigated for them. Like he was failing them. When the stakes were this high, he couldn’t afford not to do things exactly right.
“That’s all I ask,” Kimber said. She picked up her reading glasses and, with a wink, turned her attention back to her laptop.
Dismissed, Brick headed in the direction of the music and Remi.
He wanted to see her in his house, covered in flecks of paint, grinning or glaring at whatever world she was bringing to life.
The doorbell halted him in his tracks.
“Are you expecting someone?” Kimber asked, popping out of the living room.
It was the world they were suddenly thrust into when doorbells signified surprises, and surprises could be deadly.
“No,” he said, striding for the front of the house. “Maybe you should go wait in the studio?”
“I’ll stay with you,” Kimber decided.
There was more Remi in her than Kimber realized.
Casually, Brick reached down and released the snap on his holster.
But through the beveled glass, he spotted a familiar form. One that scared him almost as much as a murderous monster.
For a split second, he thought about not answering the door. But it was the coward’s way out.
“Audrey,” he said, opening the door.
His ex-wife looked good. Great actually. She’d cut her hair again, buzzing down the sides and leaving the top longer with tight curls. She had a stud in her nose—that was new. Her lips were painted a dark purple. She was tall and cool. Relaxed. Her black jeans and over-sized sweater were comfortable.
“Brick,” she said with a wide smile. She stepped across the threshold, pulling a suitcase behind her, and gave him a smacking kiss on the mouth.
“Audrey,” Kimber said, sounding as surprised as Brick felt. He could all but hear the accusation in her tone. He was sleeping with Remington, yet here his ex-wife was with a goddamn suitcase and a kiss.
“Kimber?” Audrey paused and looked back and forth between him and his guest. “Okay, I gotta admit I didn’t see this one coming.” She waggled her finger at them both.
“Huh?” He couldn’t come up with any other words.
“Me and Brick?” Kimber laughed. “Ah, no. The kids and I are staying here while Kyle and I decide whether to divorce each other or turn into completely different people to make things work.”
“Girl,” Audrey said. “I hear you.”
Brick felt like the floor under his feet was shifting, cracking, crumbling.
Audrey and Remi under the same roof. Someone was going to get hurt. Multiple someones. He was definitely one of them.
“This isn’t a great time…” he began. But trailed off when Audrey raised an eyebrow.
“It’s really good to see you again,” Kimber said.
He was so fucked. Beyond fucked.
“It’s good to be back on the island. Heard things are getting pretty serious between my brother and Ken, so I thought I’d come out for a week.”
“And you’re staying here?” Kimber said. “Brick is so generous with his house, isn’t he?”
“To a fault,” Audrey said, patting him on his arm.
“Did I know you were coming?” he asked, finally finding his voice.
“You did. Well, sort of. The plan was for me to come in May. But I got a break between projects at work and thought I’d move up the trip. So what’s new?”
Kimber and Brick exchanged a look.
“Uh. Well.”
“Did you come home to take me to lunch, big guy?”
Remi’s cheerful question had him whirling around in the foyer. His body the only barrier between the woman he loved and the one he’d married. Remi looked like a walking disaster. Her hair was piled wildly on top of her head. She had a slash of turquoise under one eye. Flecks of red dotted her hand. Every color of the rainbow lived on her green t-shirt.
Magnus threaded his way through her feet before wandering around Brick to greet Audrey. Mega, sensing trouble, tip-tapped into the foyer and cocked his head.
Brick’s brain froze. He’d been trained to handle a wide variety of threats, but this was new.
Remi’s eyes went wide in surprise.
Audrey’s face was unreadable.
Uh-oh.
“Hey. Remi, I was hoping to run into you while I was in town,” she said. “I have some things I need to say to you.”
Mayday. Mayday. SOS. Officer needs assistance.
“Why don’t we all take a minute—” Brick began.
“Sure. You want some coffee?” Remi offered.
“Love some,” Audrey said. She turned and handed Brick her suitcase. “Mind putting that upstairs for me?”
He stood there holding the bag as he watched the two women disappear into his kitchen.
“I can’t decide how fucked you are,” Kimber whispered.
“I… They… Uh…”
“I think I’m going to take myself out to lunch before I witness any crimes. If you need any back-up, text me,” she said, slipping into her coat and fluffing her hair.
“Um…”
“Good luck. Don’t make any sudden moves,” she advised.
