Read Dead Wrong Online

Authors: Mariah Stewart

Tags: #Romance, #Mystery, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Thriller

Dead Wrong (27 page)

BOOK: Dead Wrong
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“You like brownies?” the man asked as he brought the sandwiches to the cash register. “We got some nice brownies—cream cheese or peanut butter. My wife made them. You’ll like them.”

“Are you Angelo?”

“I am.” He nodded and rang up her tab, packing the bag as he went along. He smiled when she added a few brownies to the pile, noting, “You won’t be disappointed in these, trust me. You don’t think these are the best brownies you ever ate, you come back and tell me and I’ll give you back your money.”

“You’re on.” She smiled as she paid him, then gathered up her bag.

She walked back to the car, then slowed her step. Aidan and Spike were in the driver’s seat, Spike leaning out the side window, Aidan gazing out the front.

He has a great profile—not classically handsome, but rugged and solid. He may well be the nicest man I ever met, in spite of his occasional crustiness,
she thought as she approached the car.
And very possibly the sexiest . . .

There was no point in trying to overlook that any longer. She wondered, as she opened the car door, if Dylan had been much like Aidan. She hadn’t known Dylan very well, something she now regretted. She’d always thought there’d be plenty of time to get to know Annie’s guy. Sadly, she’d been so wrong.

And if she hadn’t taken this trip with Aidan, she wouldn’t have gotten to know the man beyond that terse facade of his. She liked this Aidan so much more than she’d liked the man who’d moved into her house and invaded her privacy. This man was more relaxed, more easygoing. And, she was beginning to suspect, he might even have a sense of humor.

“Something smells really good.” Aidan reached for the bag and held it while she fastened her seat belt. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I was sitting here, just thinking about food.”

“Fortunately, we’re not that far from the park,” she said as he started the engine. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was, either, until I went into that deli and found an amazing array of meats and cheeses—”

“Stop. Not another word about food until after we’ve eaten.”

“Deal. Come here, Spike.” She patted her lap, and the dog jumped from Aidan’s to hers. She lowered the window so that he could lean out, holding on to the little body as he pushed his face into the air.

They discovered the park was crowded, with several games being played at once. A boys’ baseball game was in progress on one field, girls’ lacrosse on another, the players glancing at the ever-darkening sky at every deep rumble from the distance. Mara found a picnic table not far from the lacrosse game, and they watched the girls on the field as they ate.

“You ever play?” Aidan nodded in the direction of the game.

“No. I played soccer. You?”

“I played in college, mostly to keep in shape for football. It’s a great game, fast, tough. I really liked it.” He took a long drink from the bottle of iced tea she’d bought him. “Connor was really good. College All-American. Unfortunately, my dad didn’t get the whole lacrosse thing, thought it was a strange game. He thought it was a fad that would pass out of popularity very quickly. Lacrosse and hockey. He never really got either of them.”

“Did Dylan play, too?”

“Dylan played baseball, and only baseball. He could have played with the pros.” Aidan’s eyes flickered slightly.

“I was just thinking how sorry I am that I didn’t get to know him as well as I’d have liked to.”

He continued to stare at the girls running by, their sticks in the air, yelling to the teammate who cradled the bright yellow ball in the tiny net at the end of her stick.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last.

“For what?”

“For . . . I don’t know, asking about your brother. I didn’t mean to . . .” She struggled with her words.

“It’s okay,” he told her, his eyes never leaving the game. “I think about him every day. I just haven’t had much occasion to talk about him. Except once in a while with Annie.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, because she didn’t know what else to say. She understood his sense of loss and wanted to be respectful of it. At the same time, it seemed so much a part of him, it was hard to ignore.

They watched the rest of the game in silence, the red team winning handily over the white. Cars loaded up with grinning girls and equipment, and soon everyone had departed except a young boy who chased a big sheepdog-type beast across the field. Spike whined, agitated, wanting to join in the chase. Aidan got off the bench and picked up the dog.

“Soon as they leave, we’ll play fetch, okay, Spike?” He sat back down on the bench next to Mara, the dog on his lap. “What made you think of Dylan?”

“What?”

“Before. You said you were thinking about Dylan.”

“I was wondering if he was anything like you.”

He shook his head. “Dylan was the golden boy. The best of us three. The best student, the best athlete. The best all around.”

He spoke easily, without envy.

“He was probably the best guy I ever knew. I was always in awe of him, for as long as I can remember. He was my idol.” He took a deep breath, then turned to look at her. “I love Connor—always will—but he’s six years older than me, and I never related to him the way I did Dylan.”

“What was the difference in your ages?”

“Dylan was two years older than me. We shared a lot, growing up.” His smile held a touch of sadness. “More than just a room.”

“Are you and Connor close?”

“In our way, we are. He keeps pretty busy. It seems they always have him running off someplace.” He smiled and shrugged. “We’ve never known exactly where he goes or what he does when he gets there. He’s up a few levels from the rest of us, I’d guess. A real mystery man.”

“What Annie calls a super-agent?”

He laughed, and the solemn moment broke and faded. “I guess. I know there are a few units that exist almost as separate entities. The government doesn’t always acknowledge them, but they’re there, and the rest of us all know it. Since Connor never talks about his work, Dylan and I always suspected he was part of that, but you don’t ask.”

“I’d ask. If it was Annie, my curiosity would get the better of me and I’d have to ask.”

Spooked apparently by the thunder that was moving closer, the boy and the big floppy dog left the field.

“Here’s our chance, boy. Let’s go find a nice stick.” Aidan put a hand on Mara’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re welcome to play, too. But I gotta warn you. He’s not one to give up the stick easily.”

“He’s all yours.” Mara smiled. “You two go right ahead.”

Aidan found a stick that he thought would make a good fetch stick, but Spike had already found one he liked better, so they used it.

Mara gathered up the trash from the deli and deposited it in one of the large containers at the edge of the pavilion, then returned to the table and sat on it, to better view the man who tossed the stick into the air and the dog who leapt to catch it. Then the chase began, Spike running, slowing to let Aidan almost catch up before racing off with the stick again. For Aidan, it was painfully slow running, granted, but it was running all the same, and she wondered how uncomfortable that leg must be, how sore that hip. When Aidan gave up the chase and stood in one spot, Spike brought the stick to him and dropped it at his feet. Aidan picked it up and threw it again, and the game resumed.

They didn’t play long, but they had played hard, and it wasn’t long before Aidan returned to the pavilion with Spike trotting along behind him, the cherished stick still in the dog’s mouth. Lightning flashed ominously nearby. Winded, Aidan sat next to Mara on the tabletop.

“Out of shape,” he said. “I started working out again, but I have a long way to go. I took a lot of time off. Too much time, I guess.”

“You mean after the accident?”

His face froze. “It wasn’t an accident, Mara.”

“Then what would you call it?” she asked softly.

“A major fuck-up. And I’m the one who fucked up.”

“I guess you knew that those men—the ones who shot at you and Dylan—I guess you knew that they were there, behind you—”

“Don’t.” He held up a hand as if to ward off her words. “Don’t, because you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know what Annie told me, Aidan,” she said, her voice still low.

“And what was that?”

“That you and Dylan were to go to a warehouse to meet with some guys the Bureau had been watching for months and who thought you were major drug suppliers. That you were sent around to a side door, and as soon as you did, cars pulled up and blocked off the entrance to the alley. That someone started shooting and that by the time the other agents in the area arrived, you and Dylan were both badly shot up.”

“I was supposed to be watching his back.”

She reached up and put her hand on the back of his head, as if feeling around.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Looking for the eyes you must have in the back of your head.”

“Not funny.”

“Not trying to be. How could you have seen what was behind you? Wasn’t someone else supposed to be watching you two? Annie said that someone was supposed to be in the building across the alley, watching out for you both.” Her hand lingered on the nape of his neck. “Who was supposed to be watching your back, Aidan?”

“It all happened too fast. They didn’t have enough time to react.”

“If you can be that forgiving of them—whoever they are—why can’t you be as forgiving of yourself?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, knew there wouldn’t be one. She called Spike, and he followed her to the car, where she filled his water dish from a bottle of spring water and his food dish with dry food from a bag, setting both bowls on the ground. She sat on the car seat, watching the dog eat, occasionally glancing over at the pavilion where Aidan still sat on the table, his feet on the bench below, his elbows resting on his knees, staring straight ahead.

They stayed in their places as the storm closed in and the afternoon turned to early evening, but the rain held off. To give Aidan some space, Mara took Spike on a leisurely walk on the bike path that wound around the park. The first fat drops of rain began to fall and spatter against the asphalt as they were returning to the pavilion.

“Did you hear from Chief Lanigan while we were gone?” she asked.

“No.”

“I wonder if he’ll find them, the people who took in Joanie Gibbons’s little boy.”

“He’ll find them. It just may take a little time. Let’s go,” he said, shaking his head. “Sometimes the most obvious is right under your nose. . . .”

“Come on, Spike,” she called to the dog, who’d drifted away, following a scent. He trotted back as she was spilling the remaining water in the bowl onto the ground. She gathered up the bowls and carried them to the car, Spike dancing at her heels.

Aidan opened the door for her, but before she could get in, he pulled her to him. He touched the side of her face, smoothed back her hair, and rubbed his thumb slowly over her bottom lip as if he were fixated on it.

“You know, when I told Annie I’d keep her sister company, it was the last thing in the world I wanted to do,” he told her softly. “But I have to admit, I definitely got the best of the bargain.”

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, tentatively at first, then deeper, as if he meant it. Mara rose up on her toes slightly, kissing him back and meaning it, shifting closer to him without even realizing that she’d moved. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to be doing at that moment, standing in the rain and kissing Aidan, and hoping he’d kiss her again. He did.

He drew away from her, looking down into her eyes, as if debating with himself. He leaned down and kissed her one more time, a promise of something more, then tucked her into the car.

“Let’s go see what our friend Tanner has to say.” He slammed the car door and walked around to the driver’s side, his head buzzing, wondering what had possessed him to do what he’d done, but damned glad that he had.

 

 

The lights were on in one room of Tanner’s house, but they found the old man sitting on his porch in the same chair they’d left him in that morning, watching the last of the storm blow over.

“Hey!” he called to them as they walked up the path. “Whatcha find out?”

“What makes you think we found out anything?” Aidan grinned and climbed the steps, hand in hand with Mara.

BOOK: Dead Wrong
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