Page 21 of Cold Case Murder Mystery

Then he’d called her “Chick,” and no one else knew that nickname. Not a soul in the world. It was just theirs. And she hadn’t heard it in over a decade. Hadn’tseenhim in over a decade.

Herbrotherwas standing there. Right in front of her. Adult. Alive.

It was so easy to forget about everything except that. For a brief, beautiful moment she did. Forgot everything exceptrelief.

They’d been separated in foster care, and Brooke had promised to find him. She’d promised. It had taken too long. Even she’d known that. Once she’d finally tracked him down—in jail for work he’d done with Sons of the Badlands, the biker cult their parents had been a part of—she’d started writing him letters. He hadn’t responded, and she’d been mostly okay with that. She’d known she’d borne some responsibility for him going down that path. Hard feelings were natural.

She’d hired him a lawyer to make sure he could get out when he’d done his time. He’d never answered one of her letters. Never given her any indication he cared about her, even if he’d used the lawyer. Still, she hadn’t heard he was out. She hadn’t heard anything.

Now he was following her? Finding her?

There was an initial swing of elation, of love, of hope. But it was quickly soured by the reality of the situation. There was nogoodexplanation for her brother to be skulking around following her. If he wanted to see her, he would have known he could contact her. He would have known she would help him with anything. Like she’d tried to do behind the scenes the past few years. He had to know that.

Didn’t he?

“Aren’t you going to give your baby brother a hug?” he finally said. She heard the sarcasm dripping from every word, and still she wanted to do just that. Reach out. Hold him. Assure herself he was real.

“Royal...” She started to move forward again, not necessarily to give him a hug. Not necessarily to do anything but to give him a closer look so maybe she could somehow make sense of this.

But Zeke’s grip on her arm remained firm. “I don’t care if you know him, Brooke,” Zeke said on a whisper. “He’s been stalking you.”

“I can’t quite figure this guy out,” Royal called from where he still stood a decent distance away. “Not a husband. Not a boyfriend. Just some annoying dude skulking around. What’s up with that?”

She kept forgetting Zeke was even there. She just...

She turned to Zeke, placed her free hand over the one holding her arm. “Keep your gun on him all you want, but you need to let me go.”

“Brooke.” The word waspained, not just irritated. She knew he was worried. Confused. But not any more than she was.

“Zeke. It’s my brother. Royal.”

“The brother you had to...” Zeke didn’t say the rest. He knew the whole story of them being separated by foster care. She’d sobbed it out to him one day when they’d been together.

This, of course, did not soften Zeke any to Royal. Because Zeke knew he’d been involved in the Sons and ended up in jail, though she’d never gotten into the nitty-gritty of why. She’d known Zeke would never believe her brother’s innocence. No, innocence and being involved in a gang wouldn’t make sense to a man like Zeke.

But by some miracle she’d have to think about later, Zeke actually released her arm. He did not drop the gun from pointing at her brother, but he let her go.

She’d owe him for that alone.

Brooke didn’t run to her brother. She knew better than to think this could all be solved by a hug even if her hands itched to grab onto him. To hold on. To assure herself he was alive and well.

But he wasn’t a little boy anymore, and she’d failed him. Still, she moved closer. Studying every change. The square jaw, the crooked nose, the tattoos, the scars. So few glimpses of a little boy she’d tried to raise with some semblance of right and wrong. Some inkling of love.

“Royal. What are youdoinghere? How...? Why...?”

He looked at her a long time, his gaze cold. “You told me you’d come get me, Chick. You never did.”

“I tried,” she said, her voice more rusty than she wanted.

He snorted. Like he didn’t believe her. Like she hadn’t sent those letters, that lawyer. Like...

“You were in jail, honey. Didn’t you get my letters?” She didn’t understand how he wouldn’t have known it was her. Even though she hadn’t been allowed to have contact with him—first because of his sentencing, then because of her involvement with North Star—the letters were supposed to get through. “Who do you think hired that lawyer?”

A small line appeared in his forehead, but his expression was one of distrust. That was... hurtful, when she probably didn’t have any right to be hurt.

“That guy...”

Brooke didn’t look back at Zeke, though tempted. “Is a friend. And someone who wants to help me. Help me not getstalked, Royal.”

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