man, Ryan could practically see the ping on Amanda's Klepto-radar. He let the banner drop and it fluttered. Ruined, limp fabric against a charred wall. "So no one's trying to pin the 16th on Klepto."
"Nope. We're good. You're just paranoid." Zach chuckled. "Afraid your cop friend'll ID you and cuff you to the bed?"
Intriguing as his other brain found that scenario, Ryan frowned. "The idea was to deter her from digging in the first place."
"She's with you?"
"Yes."
Zach hummed on the other end of the line. "You must have been pretty convincing." His typing slowed. "I didn't figure she'd be willing to destroy her career for you and your illegally acquired case file."
Ryan dropped his voice to a low growl. "I didn't ask."
True, he'd tracked Amanda to see if she wanted to occupy her mind on her day off. But the minute he'd spotted her, he'd felt it imperative that this time, she'd see him in a better light. Good thing too, because Zach was right. She could have been arrested for working on the case without authorization.
"We're not working on the case. I can always come back later for answers." He hadn't even retrieved the photos from the glove compartment. "We're just looking around. She can't be cited for that."
The typing stopped. "Her coworkers find out she was out there with you and we've got that file, your detective's toast."
Ryan grimaced at his brother's dangerously low tone. "You're right. This should have been a solo excursion into hell."
Zach sighed. "She's not family, Ryan."
"Everything okay?" Amanda stepped onto the sidewalk in front of him, her whole presence neutral save for her eyes. Blue with a cutting glint of warning.
Aware his brother would curse him for it later, Ryan met her challenging look and clicked off the communicator completely. How much of the exchange had she overheard?
Her teeth did a fascinating jig over her bottom lip. "If we're going to look around, we better get to it."
Amanda tipped a look up at the chiseled line of Ryan's jaw as he fell into step beside her, his expression wary. Good. Let him wonder if she knew he'd intended to pick her up today to look over the Old Town file instead of trudging around the snow-dusted concrete reliving childhood memories. Let him wonder — so she'd have longer to figure out why he'd changed his mind.
They walked for a few minutes in silence, slower and slower steps as they approached his former home.
"I was 16," she finally said. "My dad came home that night shaking. He drank himself to sleep."
"Your father was here?"
"He was a fire fighter."
He slanted a look down at her, eyebrows dipping. "Was?"
"We lost him my senior year of high school." She lowered her gaze to the broken sidewalk. "He was a hero."
Ryan pulled to a stop and stared over her head, unable to look away from the ashes. "Some men are born that way, aren't they?"
Some men, maybe. Not her father. He'd had a rap sheet as long as her forearm for boosting cars. If her mother hadn't believed in second chances, Amanda might never have been born. It took prison to straighten him out, and by then the gasoline spike had rendered his line of work obsolete. The pride in his eyes when she'd chosen a career in law enforcement . . .
Amanda locked those thoughts away when her nose tingled with more emotion than cold. She burrowed her hands into her jacket pockets. "This place is . . . heavy."
He gave a slight nod and glanced up at the sky.
She followed his gaze and wet sprinklings of fresh snow settled on her cheeks. "We should get out of the cold."
Ryan seemed to come back to life, though his smile was slow on the rebound. He reached toward her and gestured with his chin at his car in one smooth motion. "I know a little tea shop that will get us warm again — "
He stopped and one of his hands clenched tight on her jacket sleeve. Ryan's head tipped slightly, his eyes narrowing at the entrance to an alley that ran around the side of one ghoulish building.
Alarm spun
"Nope. We're good. You're just paranoid." Zach chuckled. "Afraid your cop friend'll ID you and cuff you to the bed?"
Intriguing as his other brain found that scenario, Ryan frowned. "The idea was to deter her from digging in the first place."
"She's with you?"
"Yes."
Zach hummed on the other end of the line. "You must have been pretty convincing." His typing slowed. "I didn't figure she'd be willing to destroy her career for you and your illegally acquired case file."
Ryan dropped his voice to a low growl. "I didn't ask."
True, he'd tracked Amanda to see if she wanted to occupy her mind on her day off. But the minute he'd spotted her, he'd felt it imperative that this time, she'd see him in a better light. Good thing too, because Zach was right. She could have been arrested for working on the case without authorization.
"We're not working on the case. I can always come back later for answers." He hadn't even retrieved the photos from the glove compartment. "We're just looking around. She can't be cited for that."
The typing stopped. "Her coworkers find out she was out there with you and we've got that file, your detective's toast."
Ryan grimaced at his brother's dangerously low tone. "You're right. This should have been a solo excursion into hell."
Zach sighed. "She's not family, Ryan."
"Everything okay?" Amanda stepped onto the sidewalk in front of him, her whole presence neutral save for her eyes. Blue with a cutting glint of warning.
Aware his brother would curse him for it later, Ryan met her challenging look and clicked off the communicator completely. How much of the exchange had she overheard?
Her teeth did a fascinating jig over her bottom lip. "If we're going to look around, we better get to it."
Amanda tipped a look up at the chiseled line of Ryan's jaw as he fell into step beside her, his expression wary. Good. Let him wonder if she knew he'd intended to pick her up today to look over the Old Town file instead of trudging around the snow-dusted concrete reliving childhood memories. Let him wonder — so she'd have longer to figure out why he'd changed his mind.
They walked for a few minutes in silence, slower and slower steps as they approached his former home.
"I was 16," she finally said. "My dad came home that night shaking. He drank himself to sleep."
"Your father was here?"
"He was a fire fighter."
He slanted a look down at her, eyebrows dipping. "Was?"
"We lost him my senior year of high school." She lowered her gaze to the broken sidewalk. "He was a hero."
Ryan pulled to a stop and stared over her head, unable to look away from the ashes. "Some men are born that way, aren't they?"
Some men, maybe. Not her father. He'd had a rap sheet as long as her forearm for boosting cars. If her mother hadn't believed in second chances, Amanda might never have been born. It took prison to straighten him out, and by then the gasoline spike had rendered his line of work obsolete. The pride in his eyes when she'd chosen a career in law enforcement . . .
Amanda locked those thoughts away when her nose tingled with more emotion than cold. She burrowed her hands into her jacket pockets. "This place is . . . heavy."
He gave a slight nod and glanced up at the sky.
She followed his gaze and wet sprinklings of fresh snow settled on her cheeks. "We should get out of the cold."
Ryan seemed to come back to life, though his smile was slow on the rebound. He reached toward her and gestured with his chin at his car in one smooth motion. "I know a little tea shop that will get us warm again — "
He stopped and one of his hands clenched tight on her jacket sleeve. Ryan's head tipped slightly, his eyes narrowing at the entrance to an alley that ran around the side of one ghoulish building.
Alarm spun
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