Her mom had hit six months of sobriety, was looking for a new place and a respectable job. Had even saved some money to get a fresh start. And then, wham! Gone forever. All because Hank Caldwell, Kelsey’s druggie boyfriend, had heard about her mother’s savings and needed cash to get that night’s fix. Fucking psychopath.

And then to add vinegar to Brynn’s open wounds, she’d shown up that first day in court to see Reid and his aunt Roslyn sitting next to the cold-blooded bastard. Defending him.

Apparently, Hank’s wealthy family, who had previously disowned him because of his drug use, had jumped in at the last second to lawyer-up their son and pay the Jamisons’ exorbitant legal fees.

She still didn’t understand how Reid had stood by that man, touted his innocence, even when she’d begged him to drop the case. Was he really willing to defend anyone if the paycheck was right? She glanced over at him again, having trouble reconciling the guy in the courtroom back then with the man who’d come to the women’s center to do pro bono work. Maybe the experience with Hank had changed him.

Regardless, she thanked God that he and his aunt had botched the case and lost. She’d never be able to sleep at night if she knew her mother’s murderer was still roaming the streets.

She shook the memory from her mind and stared down at the folder again. She couldn’t bear to see the crime photos, but the temptation to find out why Reid was carrying the file around

was too compelling to resist. After a few centering breaths, she lifted the edge of the file and opened it.

As she feared, a picture sat on top of the pile of papers, but it wasn’t the crime scene, wasn’t even the killer. Instead, her little sister’s senior yearbook photo stared back at her. Brynn frowned and lifted the black-and-white photocopy, flipping it over to read the writing on the back. Reid’s neat, block lettering filled the page in bulleted notes, but the first line glared like neon in Brynn’s vision: KELSEY LEBRECK. VICTIM’S YOUNGEST DAUGHTER. SCHEDULE INTERVIEW.

Her fingers gripped the page so hard, it crinkled the paper. She forced herself to read on. Copious notes about Kelsey’s whereabouts in the days leading up to the murder. Her drug dealer contacts at the time and her relationship with Hank. Theories on who could’ve committed the murder and what motive someone may have had. A note that Kelsey had found a list of her mother’s clients that may help with the case. Then, the name J. Kennedy circled with the word killer and a question mark behind it. Finally, at the bottom of the page, the date of his notes.

Last Sunday.

Rage ripped through Brynn as she shoved the page aside and looked at the next one. Title: Hank Caldwell Appeal.

That son of a bitch.

Reid was working on a way to get that bastard out of prison and hadn’t told her? And he was planning to get Kelsey to help him?

Jesus. She put her head in her hands as another disturbing realization hit her. That’s why Reid was here. Not because he’d wanted to help her. He needed to know where her sister was for his case.

She rose to her feet, almost toppling the dining room chair in the process, and stalked across the room to her bags. Goddamn him for lying to her and making her believe he really cared. Self-serving motherfucker. She slipped on a pair of sandals, barely resisting the urge to ram one right up his conniving ass. But that would wake him up, and she planned to be as far away from possible from him when he woke up.

The sheets rustled behind her and she froze, holding her breath. When no other sound came, she turned her head and saw that he had shifted his face toward her, but hadn’t awakened. His breath had become shallower, however. She frowned.

With renewed urgency, she zipped up her suitcase and dug through her purse to find her watch. When she slid the silver Timex over her arm, she cringed. The leather from the night before had abraded her wrist, leaving a ring of sensitive pink skin. She dropped the watch back into her bag, then paused, an idea tiptoeing into her brain. Hmm.

Quickly, she moved past Reid and returned to the bedroom. She hadn’t had time to explore more than the closet the night before, but she knew the place had to be well stocked. When she opened the armoire that faced the bed, her lips pressed into a determined line. She grabbed what she needed and hurried back to the main room.

Reid had remained in a stomach down, spread-eagle position. Perfect. With the stealth of a thief, she quietly locked a set of fur-lined cuffs on each of Reid’s wrists, then fastened the matching cuff of each pair to the frame of the bed. She placed the keys that would release them on the kitchen counter, far out of his reach. Then, unable to resist the vindictive impulses running through her and encouraged by the return of his sleep-heavy breathing, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxer shorts and gently slid them off and tossed them across the room. That would assure he’d try to get out on his own before calling for help.

She glared down at his sleeping form, knowing she should just walk out now, get as much of a head start as possible. But the urge to confront him burned bright within her. He’d tricked her into trusting him, loving him—again. God, how could she have been so freaking stupid? Before she could think better of it, she gave the bed frame a sharp kick, jolting the mattress and Reid. “Wake up, asshole.”

Reid’s body jumped in response and the muscles in his back flexed as he automatically tried to turn over, but the metal cuffs clinked against the frame. He jerked his hands back, fighting against the restraints. “What the hell?”

Brynn stepped around the side of the sofa bed until she was in his range of vision and tossed the Caldwell file onto the bed next to him. Papers slid out of it and scattered along the sheets. “So is every word that comes out of your mouth a lie or do you just save that for me so you can enjoy fucking me over again and again?”

He blinked in her direction, his eyes widening when he saw the documents in front of him. “Brynn, I—”

“Don’t,” she said, her voice deadly calm. “Don’t even try. I don’t need to hear more piles of bullshit.”

“Brynn, I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t—”

“What? Wouldn’t have helped you use my sister to free a goddamned murderer?” Her voice was rising, but she couldn’t stop it. She wanted to scream at him, to pummel him for the betrayal, to make him hurt as much as she was right now. “He killed my mother, Reid. Left her to die alone. What part of that don’t you get?”

“Hank’s not a murderer,” he said, his own voice almost meeting her volume. “I know you want to believe he is. Want to know that the killer is locked up tight and that everyone is safe. But they’ve got the wrong guy. All the new evidence points to someone else. And if I don’t get this conviction overturned, no one is ever going to look for the real murderer. He could be out there hurting other people as we speak.”

“Stop it!” She wanted to put her hands over her ears so she could block out the image he was painting. None of that could be true. Hank was the one. Had to be. He was the only one who had motive and access. The thought that someone else had done it and was still walking around free… No. No. No. She couldn’t go there. This was simply more of Reid’s bullshit. “You just can’t let it go because you lost the case. You want him to be innocent, so it must be true. Because God knows the almighty Reid couldn’t be wrong about anything. Couldn’t actually lose a case.”

His face flooded red. “Goddamn it, this isn’t about my fucking ego!” The restraints scraped against the metal frame as he attempted—unsuccessfully—to get out of his prone position. “Now come on and uncuff me. We need to talk about this rationally.”

She snorted. “Sorry, I’m all out of rational for tonight. Enjoy your evening.”

She spun on her heel and headed toward the door.

“Brynn, wait! You can’t leave me like this.”

“Watch me.”

To hell with it all. She’d find her sister on her own tonight. She didn’t need Reid or anyone else for that matter. She’d taken care of things on her own her whole life, why stop now. She glanced back at Reid, who was pulling at his cuffs again. The room’s phone was within reaching distance if he worked for it, but it would take a while. Perversely, she hoped he had to call someone to find him in this position. She’d love to see how Mr. Big Bad Dominant liked that.

He met her gaze. “Don’t do this.”

Without another word, she turned and walked out of the cabin.

NINETEEN

now

Brynn stepped onto the porch and slammed the door behind her, ignoring Reid’s last plea. Her hand was shaking when she released the knob. Dammit. She needed to get ahold of herself. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to quell the angry tremors coursing through her. Focus on why you’re here.

She closed her eyes and repeated the mantra in her head until her heartbeat slowed to a semi-normal pace. She didn’t have time to worry about Reid or her broken heart right now. She’d deal with both of them another day. Tonight was about finding Kelsey.

She straightened her shoulders with renewed resolve and stared out into the night. The air had turned a bit cooler and fog hung low over the dark grounds, giving everything an ethereal feel. If she had been there for different reasons, it would have been the perfect evening to hang out in the rocking chair and sip wine while listening to the sounds of the night come to life. But a normal evening never seemed to be in the cards for her anymore.

With a sigh, she crossed the wooden slats of the porch and headed down the steps onto the slate path. She looked toward the main complex they had come from the night before. All the windows in the house were lit up and paper lamps lined the winding paths that snaked out from the back of the building. The house was modern rustic—an enormous home constructed with dark logs and Texas stone. Anyone driving by would assume it was the vineyard tycoon’s mansion. Nothing about it even hinted at its real purpose.

She wrapped her arms around herself and started down the path in the opposite direction, knowing the other private cabins lay closer to the vineyards. The area got darker the farther away she ventured from the main house. Laughter and music floated on the air from somewhere in the distance, but no one seemed to be in her immediate area. Maybe this hadn’t been such a great spot to watch for her sister.

She reached the end of the path and the short wooden railing that marked the beginning of the rolling expanse of grapevines. With a sigh, she climbed onto it to sit on the top rung. At least Reid wouldn’t look for her here if he managed to escape.

Cabins dotted the land around her, but only two had lights on. The other guests must’ve already headed toward dinner and the party, ready for a fun night. Fun—what everyone else was here for.

She rested her heels on the middle rung of the fence, set her elbows on her thighs, and put her face in her hands, feeling drained and more alone than she had in as long as she could remember. How had everything gone so off course?

Her mom. Her sister. Reid. Her own life.

Was the universe bound and determined to take everyone from her? Each time she thought she had something to hold on to, it seemed to slip through her fingers like mist.

She hadn’t given over to self-pity in years, had sworn to herself that no matter what, she would create a safe and happy life for herself, her sister—help other women do the same. But as she sat on the fence inhaling deep gulps of the earthy air and feeling the darkness of the night closing around her, fat tears tracked down her cheeks.

God, she was losing it.

The breeze shifted and the steady thudding of footsteps joined in with the rustling of the grape leaves. Her heart stuttered—he couldn’t have escaped that quickly, right? She lifted her head to find an imposing figure heading her way. She could tell from the sauntering gait that it wasn’t Reid, but other than that, she couldn’t make out much else. Great, just what she needed, uninvited company.