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TWELVE

Amanda held the door for Trent, and they entered Mack’s Garage. Melvin Gray was behind the counter and grinned at the sight of her. He was twenty-three and still an apprentice, but he was given a lot of free rein. “My, my, Miss Amanda is in the house.”

She laughed. Melvin had a way about him that could calm a person on death row. “Kyle wouldn’t happen to be in, would he?” Rhetorical, really, as there was nowhere else her brother would be this time of day. Her brother could be a stickler during business hours and focused on his work to the extent that all else around him disappeared. He considered breaking for lunch a weakness. No one could say he didn’t work hard.

“You don’t need to ask. And just go back. You’re family here.” Melvin smiled at her and let the expression carry for Trent.

“In the shop or his office?”

“Not sure. Might as well try his office first since it’s on the way.”

“Thanks.” Amanda lifted a section of counter, and she and Trent ducked to the other side. She knocked on a closed door with a nameplate that read The Boss. Definitely her brother’s sense of humor. She hoped that he wasn’t behind a desk; he was always in a more favorable mood covered head to toe in grease.

Air compressors started up in the garage bays, seeping into the retail front and making it hard to hear and be heard. She raised her voice when she called out, “Ky—” The door opened mid-name.

“Mandy? What are you— Nah. No. You get out of here.” He thrust a pointed finger toward Trent, nostrils flaring.

“Kyle!” Amanda reached out to stop her brother from advancing on Trent. “He’s my partner.”

Kyle shrugged free of her hand. “I know exactly who he is.”

Trent had been the one to officially arrest their mother, and he’d testified on the stand against her. “He was doing his job.”

“That the excuse you’re always going to hide behind?”

All the wind left her, and it took her a while to compose herself. They’d been down this road so many times it was worn and full of potholes. “Mom was exonerated.”

“Yeah, lucky thing too.” Kyle was seething and glaring at Trent.

“I’ll wait in the car.” Trent jacked a thumb over his shoulder. To his credit, he was calm and collected despite Kyle’s hostility. He moved to leave.

“Good idea,” Kyle called after him. The bell on the door jangled as Trent exited the shop.

“You’ve become quite an ass,” Amanda snarled.

“Maybe that’s what happens when my sis cuts me from her life.”

“Is that the story you’re going to hide behind?” she volleyed. She was heaving for breath. As much as they had conversed about their mother’s actions and the trial, they still had to address the fact Amanda had cut him out of her life for a time. It was a conversation she really didn’t look forward to, but maybe it was better to rip the Band-Aid off and deal with the gaping wound. Just not now. “I thought we were moving forward.”

“Trying to. Just keep him out of my face and give things time.”

“It will take a long time if you’re going to be a bull-headed—” She stopped when a customer came through the front door.

“In here.” Kyle ushered her into his office, and he sat behind the desk.

“I’m not here to talk about ancient history.” She was panting, trying to get a solid breath. If she didn’t need his help with solving a murder, she would have regretted being here. She somewhat did anyway.

“Ancient?” he scoffed. “Her trial just ended two months ago.”

“Might as well be ancient. Mom knew I had a job to do. She doesn’t blame me for anything. She’s forgiven me, so why can’t you?” Amanda could only imagine how much animosity her brother would hold if their mother had been convicted.

Kyle clenched his jaw and held it for a bit before letting out a rush of air. “What is it?”

She pulled out a data stick that Todd Hampton had given her with the video surveillance of the lot. “I need your expertise.”

“Finally, some credit.” A small, cocky smile. A flash of the brother she remembered and adored, even idolized when she was younger.

“Credit where credit’s due.” She could play nice.

He plucked the USB stick from her hands and put it into his computer. “What am I looking at?”

“I just need to know if you can recognize a vehicle from the spread and shape of the headlights. Which I’m sure you can.” Laying on the flattery now…

He held eye contact with her. “You might be giving me more credit than I deserve.”

“Am I?” She batted her eyelashes.

“All right, then.” He pointed to the monitor, and she walked around to look at the screen. She told him the rough timestamp, and he brought up that section. She had him pause when the headlights of the mystery car came into view.

Kyle angled his head left, right, then left, right again. “It’s obviously a sedan. I’d say import given the shape of the headlights.”

“All right, this is great. Do you know make and model?”

He looked at her, smiled. “You must think I’m a genie in a bottle.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Oh, flattery, Mandy. It works on me.”

“It always has.” She was grinning at his profile, his gaze back on the screen. She hoped he wanted to heal things between them, but would he be able to let go of his hurt feelings long enough to do so? There were times she couldn’t blame him for being bitter. They had been best friends before Kevin and Lindsey had died, or more accurately, before she had pulled away. She’d thought it would hurt less to be on her own instead of being around her family, a constant reminder of what she no longer had. The pity she sometimes witnessed in their eyes… she despised it. Like she was some fragile doll that needed handling with kid gloves.

Kyle tapped his fingers on his desk. “My guess is a Honda or Toyota.”

“Model? Year?”

“Again, I’m not a genie, but within the last five years.”

“Still, you’re the best.” She tapped a kiss on her brother’s forehead and held out her open palm. “The USB stick?”

He pulled it from the computer and put it in her hand. “Glad I could assist the PWCPD.”

“Remember that.” The words slipped out, and she immediately wished she could retract them. The light disappeared from her brother’s eyes, probably at the thought that he’d helped the same police department that had charged their mother with murder. “I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“I really need to get back to work. Parts don’t order themselves, and I have an engine in the back that needs my expertise.”

She should just leave. After all, she got the answer she’d come for. She reached the door and found herself turning around. “I’m sorry, Kyle. If I could turn the clock back, I would have done things differently.” Her heart was aching so much it was hard to breathe. She’d let him down.

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