Page 25 of Studfinder

“This fall,” Nolan says, offering a weak smile.

“Why haven’t you told me?” Rory will be graduating this summer. Is the wedding a secret?

“I’m marrying Brynne Dunhill.”

I take a moment, but then the name registers. “Lisa’s niece?” My head twists from Nolan to Rory and back.

“Lisa came around a bit when I first got home, and she’d bring her niece. Rory met her then, but they didn’t start seeing each other again until he entered law school.”

“Brynne. Lisa’s niece?” My ex-wife’s niece will be joining our family, and no one told me. Hell, no one even told me Rory was getting married. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t want you to be upset,” Nolan states. “I know it was hard when you and Lisa separated.”

“When she divorced me,” I remind Nolan.

“We didn’t want to make things difficult for you.”

“Difficult? How?” My heart begins to race, and the most awful thoughts about my younger brother enter my head. “Did you fuck my ex-wife?” I see it all playing out like some damn romantic drama. Younger brother loses older brother who takes care of fucking everything for him, and the ex-wife arrives having her heart broken, even if she did the breaking, and they find consolation in one another.

“Hey,” Rory defends.

“You know I couldn’t fuck someone at first,” Nolan states.

“Why is this even a discussion?” Rory interjects.

“You aren’t answering my question,” I demand of my brother.

“No. No, I didn’t fuck her. I wouldn’t do that to you,” Nolan states, staring back at me, and the implication becomes clear. Lisa wanted it. Maybe Nolan wanted it, too, but he didn’t act on it. I press my chair back, causing the feet to screech across the tile.

“I need some air,” I state. I toss my fork to my plate and stalk to the front door, pulling it open with more force than necessary. I don’t bother closing it. Racing down the ramp we now have installed before the house, I head for the street and walk.

Immediately, my thoughts fill with my ex-wife. She wanted the divorce. I didn’t. Can’t make a screwdriver fit a nail. We were in the middle of our separation when the arrest happened. Our future became one more part of my history. We were over. Still, I can’t get over the shock of Rory getting engaged and to a Dunhill of all people.

Continuing down the street, I inhale the fresh mountain air deeply, dismissing memories of my ex-wife. Our house is in an area of smaller homes a few blocks from downtown Ashbury. It’s a community where homes outside the town are growing larger and larger while the historic district grows more decrepit looking. The closest high school services five municipalities, making it a community unit school, and my thoughts drift to it. While it’s been over twenty-five years since I’ve attended high school, my nightmares return to the building often.

Most haunting in those nightmares is Rory and his friends standing outside the school on a dark night. I was driving home after another fire investigation. Assigned to the entire county—one man for almost twenty firehouses and a slew of volunteer fire people—I’d been stumped for the first time ever in my career. A rash of blazes had occurred over the past three months in vacant warehouses throughout the county. Nothing was making sense other than their vacancy.

Suddenly, nothing mattered as I neared the high school, finding another blaze roaring at one end of the building and a group of teens standing around watching it.

I pulled into the parking lot, jumped from my truck, and called out to the boys.

“Hey,” I yelled as the air filled with the strong scent of smoke. “Hey, what the hell is going on?” A few heads turned. Others didn’t. At the sight of me, the boys began to scatter, but I recognized one. Rory.

Chasing him across the empty lot, I was quick to catch him, tugging him by the collar to stop his retreat.

“What are you doing here?” I snapped, holding him by the neck.

“We didn’t mean to do it,” Rory said. His gaze returned to the school, telling me something was amiss. The scent coming off my seventeen-year-old nephew was a mix of sweet weed and explosives.

“Rory, tell me the truth.” Fear rose inside me. What had they done?

“We were smoking behind the maintenance shed and setting off fireworks. The fireworks were more boom than sparks, but . . . I don’t know. One must have gone astray.”

Idiots.

“Don’t move,” I warned Rory. “Call 911.” I remember wondering why the fire department hadn’t already arrived. The fire alarm should have gone off, but I didn’t hear it. Releasing my nephew, I decided to investigate on my own. I headed toward the building, rounding the side, hoping any late-night cleaning staff might have already left. As it was summer, the school would be vacant, and at the late hour, I didn’t fear anyone would be present in the school.

Checking a side door entrance, I found the doors locked. Heading around the back of the building, I was eyeing the maintenance shed near the football field when an explosion occurred. Windows busted. Flames flared into the night air. I raced back around the front of the building to find I was the only person in the lot other than the first sheriff to arrive on the scene.