Page 20 of Cold Case Murder Mystery

He opened his driver’s-side door, got out of the truck carefully, using the door as a kind of shield while he held his gun trained on the man—whoappearedunarmed. Zeke suspected the driver had a firearm on him somewhere. He was way too calm with a gun pointed in his direction not to have some kind of weapon handy.

Unless he had backup. Zeke turned off the safety on his gun and scanned the world around them. He saw one rental cabin in the distance, but otherwise just highway and land. No people. No nothing.

Zeke began to move toward the driver. The guy held his hands up in surrender, though it didn’t feel like a particularly scared or submissive move. It appeared far more...mocking.

Zeke didn’t quite know what to do with this, but he’d been in strange, confusing and dangerous situations before. He’d made an entire adulthood out of it—hell, his entire life had been about getting people, including himself, out of trouble.

With his gun clearly drawn, he continued to inch toward the man. Zeke watched everything and put Brooke and the dog out of his mind. The trick to any difficult situation was to divorce feelings from it and to focus on instincts only.

He’d only ever struggled with that as a North Star agent when Brooke was involved. And she, for some reason, had reminded him of his family. Of Walker out there trying to track down their mother’s killer and maybe getting himself killed in the process. Of Carlyle out there chomping at the bit. Of Walker trying to protect her from all the world had to offer.

Brooke had reminded him of what he’d felt for his family, and it had been the first chink in an armor he’d considered impenetrable. It had been the first realization he’d been getting in too deep with her.

And now was quite possibly the worst timeeverto be thinking about that.

“It seems you’ve taken a real interest in my friend,” Zeke called across the distance. He was close enough to take stock of the man. The guy was tall, big. Definitely wouldn’t be easy to take down in a fight. They’d be almost evenly matched, and he had a fighter’s kind of stance that spoke of either time in the ring or time in a cell.

Zeke was betting on the latter.

He still didn’t see anyone in their surroundings. No backup. Unless he was missing something, but Zeke had to trust his instincts and believe he wasn’t. While preparing foranything.

“You could say that,” the man returned, unbothered. “And you could also say it’s none of your damn business.”

“You’d be wrong about that.”

The guy jerked his chin toward the truck. “Then why is she getting out?”

Zeke knew better than to look, than to be distracted. He really did. He was almost certain he wouldn’t have looked back, except he heard the sound of feet hitting gravel.

He wanted to shout at her, but some gut feeling he could still manage to follow caught it in time, so he said nothing at all. Though he did move his body to act as a physical barrier between Brooke’s approaching form and the man.

Since she couldn’t stay in the damn truck. He wanted to curse. Instead he could only watch her out of the corner of his eye. The dog followed by her side—neither bounding ahead nor lagging behind.

Brooke came to an abrupt stop a few steps behind Zeke.

“Royal?” she said. Her voice didn’t seem strong enough to carry, but he noted the way the man by the car stiffened.

Zeke didn’t lower the gun but glanced at Brooke, now moving toward the man, clearly without thinking. Zeke grabbed her by the arm with his free hand as she tried to pass him. She looked over at him as if startled to find him still there.

The man crossed his big, tattooed arms over his chest andsmirkedat Zeke. Then his gaze moved to Brooke.

“Heya, Chick.”

Chapter Seven

For a moment, it was like being out of time. Like she wasn’t a living, breathing, being anymore. Just... mist. Nothing tangible. Because this couldn’t be real, so she couldn’t be real.

Then Zeke had grabbed her arm, held her in place, and she’d come back together. Her mouth was dry, her hands shook, but she was breathing again. Her heart was pounding in her ears, so loud, she didn’t know if Zeke was saying anything to her or not.

Because she was looking at her brother.

Brooke didn’t even know why she recognized him.Howshe did. He’d been ten years old the last time she’d seen him. He’d looked so different. Small and vulnerable and decidedly untattooed, though maybe with some of the same belligerence in his expression.

Now he was... a man.

Yet there was something in the eyes. In the way he looked at her. A mix of sibling devotion and massive distrust. Even as a toddler, he’d been a dichotomy. No doubt fighting between all that evil around them and the good Brooke had tried so hard to hold on to. So hard to give him.

She’dknownit was him in this moment, just from that look alone.

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