The Cradle Files. Delores Fossen

a feeling they aren’t going to stop with just this one attempt.”

      “So, why haven’t you made this investigation official? Why call me in and close the door?”

      Lexie stepped between them. “Because I have reason to believe that it might be a cop who wants me dead.”

      His brother was very good at hiding his emotions but he wasn’t able to hide his shock, and perhaps his disbelief. “I’ll want an explanation about that, too.”

      Before that could happen, there was a knock at the door, one sharp rap, and it opened. The rookie stuck his head inside. “Lieutenant O’Malley?” he said to Brayden. “Lieutenant Dillard is on the phone. He wants to speak to you.”

      “Hell,” Garrett grumbled. Lieutenant Dillard was his boss, and since he wanted to speak to Brayden, that probably meant the conversation would be about Lexie and him.

      “Did you happen to tell Lieutenant Dillard I was here?” Garrett asked the rookie.

      “I did. Because he asked,” the young officer quickly added. “Your neighbor saw some suspicious men hanging around your house, and he reported it. The neighbor said someone bashed into your garage door.”

      Great. This just kept getting messier and messier.

      “I’ll be right back,” Brayden said, heading for the door.

      “Wait,” Lexie called out. Brayden stopped and turned back around to face her. He met her gaze head-on. “Remember what I told you.”

      She no doubt meant the part about the possible cop who’d tried to kill her.

      “You’ll just have to trust me to do my job,” Brayden responded. With that, he turned and walked out.

      “Trust,” Lexie mumbled. “It’s disconcerting how easily that word flows right off the tongue. Let’s hope it’s a word that actually means something.”

      Garrett shook his head. “My brother won’t do anything to hurt us.”

      “Maybe not intentionally.”

      Since that was the truth, Garrett decided it was a good time to finish his coffee. Unfortunately, it was cold and had seemingly turned to gasoline. But because his head was still pounding, he forced himself to drink it.

      Lexie sank onto the sofa with a heavy sigh and leaned her head against the cushion. “Why does your brother hate me?”

      Garrett hadn’t been prepared for her question. “Who said he hates you?”

      “I did. I could tell by the way he looked at me.”

      And here he thought his brother had the ultimate poker face. “It has to do with what happened when your boss, Billy Avery, was on trial.”

      “Oh. He thinks I helped Billy commit those crimes.” But then she hesitated. “No. What your brother feels for me is personal, isn’t it?”

      Because of the headache, the fatigue, and because this was a subject he didn’t really want to discuss, Garrett nearly pulled a silent act. But this was bound to come up sometime or another, and he wanted her to hear it from him. Or rather, he wanted her to hear the sanitized version.

      “Brayden doesn’t like you because when you unofficially left my protective custody, you officially put me in a really bad place with my boss and just about everyone in the D.A.’s office.”

      She lifted her head, studied him. “I see.”

      “The D.A. was lucky to get a conviction without the rest of your testimony.” And Garrett hadn’t wanted to think just how bad things could have gotten for him if Avery hadn’t been convicted. If he’d walked, the D.A. would have looked for someone to hang, and Garrett would have been the one they’d come after.

      With reason.

      He’d failed to do his job, by allowing a material witness to escape custody. Of course, he’d also failed to do his job by having sex with that witness. In this case, two wrongs definitely didn’t make a right.

      “Your brother knows what happened between us?” Lexie asked.

      “He knows.”

      She stared at him. “And you still think he’ll be willing to help me?”

      “I know he will.” But what Garrett didn’t know was the form that help might take. Brayden wasn’t the sort of cop to keep things under the table, but Garrett was hoping his brother would do it this time.

      The door opened and Brayden came back in.

      “Well?” Garrett immediately asked.

      He frowned. “I chose my words carefully.”

      Garrett didn’t know whose sigh of relief was bigger—his or Lexie’s. But there was no hint of relief in Brayden’s expression.

      “Lieutenant Dillard knows that Lexie has some issues to be worked out. Personal issues that he’s agreed to let me handle at my discretion.”

      That brought Lexie off the sofa. “You?”

      “Me,” Brayden enunciated. “Because Lieutenant Dillard insisted that Garrett not have any official contact with you.” He held up his hand, cutting off the protest that Garrett was about to make. “Dillard is right. You can’t be involved in this, Garrett. Because if this—whatever this is—ends up going to the D.A., then it could cost you your badge. The D.A. hasn’t forgotten what happened the last time you were involved with Lexie.”