Patton nodded. No argument there.
Zach paused. “She told you?”
Patton looked at him.
Zach stepped closer. “So what’s going on?”
Patton threw the ball again. “Nothing,” he answered then changed course. “What’s the plan with Bianca’s shop? After you’re married, I mean. Will she sell it so she can go with you when you’re traveling a couple of weeks a month?
Zach frowned. “That shop is her dream. She’s got two people on the payroll, people who count on her for their livelihood. I’m not going to ask her to give that up.”
Patton nodded. Did Zach know she was in monetary trouble? “And your dream of traveling the world? Your high-paying, high-stress career? Are you shelving that?”
Zach sighed. “What are you getting at?”
“We’ve been talking about the wedding so much we hadn’t had a chance to talk about your life afterward.” He paused, taking the ball from Mikey. “And the challenges your conflicting careers might bring.”
“Shit, Patton,” he whispered. “Is it that hard for you to be happy for me? I’d like to think having Bianca as part of the family is a good thing.”
“You have to admit it’s all pretty damn quick, Zach.” He threw the ball, the questions spilling out before he could stop them. “What do you know about Bianca? Her family?”
“Are you serious?” Zach asked. “I’m the one with the past. She’s...” He shook his head. “You know what? Forget it. I’m going to enjoy the rest of my evening.”
Patton watched his brother stalk across the yard. He watched the concern on Bianca’s face as she took Zach’s hand. Zach wrapped his arm about her waist and whispered something in her ear, making her smile. He wanted to believe she loved his brother, that she had no ulterior motives. But until he learned all there was to know about Bianca, he would do his best to hold off any judgment.
Patton’s phone rang.
Thirty minutes later, Patton stood amidst twisted metal and burning tires. An officer had attempted to pull over a trailer with its rear light out—completely unaware of the high-speed chase and multicar pile-up that would result. Two injured cops, a family of five whose minivan was struck and a motorcyclist who couldn’t avoid the resulting debris were all en route to the local hospital.
Patton had been called in because of the trailer. It had been altered to manufacture meth; the walls and floors were permeated with the residue of the chemical burn off. Other than the smell and stains, there was no hardware or supplies for making the drug. The perps were probably on the way to dump it somewhere.
It was going to be a long night.
The highway was narrowed to one lane so the evidence processing could begin. Then taping off, photographing and marking the accident’s path.
Nights like this he missed Russ most. He’d had one of those engaging personalities, keeping everyone smiling—even when they were working in the early hours of the mor
ning with no light, honking horns and a feeling of defeat. His little brother had been a good cop. Until he wasn’t a good cop anymore.
There were times he wished he could go back. Go back and confront his brother, try to get him to come clean. Try to get him some help before that night...
He was on the scene until the sun was up. On his way to the station, he stopped by his place long enough to grab a suit and throw his toiletries in a travel bag. He wouldn’t have time to come home and get ready, so he’d clean up at the station before heading to Cady’s.
The station was in chaos when he arrived, so he jumped in. Between last night’s accident and two other ongoing cases, the background check he’d run on Bianca, her employees and close family members was the last thing on his mind. But when an email popped up saying the files were in his box and they needed to be returned ASAP, he stopped and stared at the screen, torn. His box was overflowing, but he could see the thick manila packet poking out. He slid it free and laid it on his desk, tapping the sealed top. Once he’d read this information, there was no going back. He opened the envelope, pulled out two files and leaned back in his chair. Of course, he didn’t expect anyone to have a record...
He was wrong. Landon McCall was her delivery boy. He had a juvenile record of petty theft and shoplifting at three separate businesses. He’d worked it off through hours of community service and letters of recommendation. Patton skimmed over them, then flipped the page. As an adult, McCall had one prior—for check tampering. So Bianca was giving Landon another chance... Because she was big hearted or she didn’t know?
He sighed, tucked the information back into the file and moved on to the next.
Bianca Garza. A DWI six year ago. She’d been sentenced to a one-year probation, paid a two-thousand dollar fine, had to attend a slew of education classes, served eighty hours of community service and had her license revoked for two years. He ran a hand over his face then skimmed through the rest of her file. Nothing else...in this file. That didn’t mean Bianca didn’t have other secrets.
He glanced at the clock. It was six fifteen. He was late.
10
CADY WAS PUTTING her earrings on when she heard a knock on her door. She glanced at the clock. It was six thirty-four. She ran down the hall and opened the door, her temper fizzling out at the delectable sight he presented. “You’re not ready,” she murmured.
His plaid shirt was untucked and open—baring his incredible torso and rendering her speechless. His jeans were unbuttoned, the top of his boxers and the dark line of hair that ran down from his belly button making her instantly, achingly aroused. She blinked, resisting the urge to run her fingers along the rock-hard abs he displayed and forcing her attention up. He looked exhausted, sporting a thick stubble on his jaw and shadows under his eyes. Even exhausted he looked good enough to eat.