“I’m not the person you used to know.” Nicole leaned back.
Brett jerked his head back, surprised by her candor.
She pointed at him. “You think I’m responsible for Missy’s accident. Maybe we were partying and I handed over the keys to my car. That’s what you think, right? That’s why you asked me if she was under the influence. That’s why you asked my boss if Missy was a good employee.” Her voice had a desperate quality about it. “Or you’re wondering if someone had a grudge against me and ran my car off the road, but instead of hurting me, they hurt Missy.” Her eyebrow twitched as she seemed to fight back the harsh reality. Missy hadn’t simply been hurt.
More than likely, Missy had been killed.
Brett threaded his fingers. “I’m investigating Missy’s accident. That’s all.”
Nicole leaned forward. “I’ve changed. Please leave me alone.” She started to push off the arms of the chair. Brett’s hand on hers stopped her. Their gazes met and lingered.
“There was damage to your car.” He watched her face carefully. Anger flashed in her eyes and then registered concern. “Someone wanted your car to go into the lake.” He leaned in closer, nudging her knee with his. “Your car.”
Nicole leaned back and crossed her arms over her middle. “It doesn’t make any sense.” Worry settled into the corners of her eyes. “Isn’t there a way the police can track down the make and model?” A sheepish expression flickered across her face. “I see it all the time on those detective shows.”
Brett snorted and stopped short when Nicole didn’t seem amused. “That takes time. Even when we do find the information, we have to find the specific car. Part of the investigation includes finding out if the victim—or the intended victim—had any enemies.”
Nicole clutched her mittens in her hand. “You really think someone wanted to hurt me?” She let out a mirthless laugh. “I lead a pretty quiet life.”
“You didn’t always lead a quiet life.”
Nicole narrowed her gaze at him.
“What about the drug dealer you testified against after my brother died?” Brett rarely talked about his brother. It was too painful. Even now. Brett blamed himself. He should have seen his brother was still using.
Her eyes flared wide. “He’s in prison. He’ll be there for a long time.”
Brett made a mental note to check on the dealer’s current status. “What about Missy, then? Did she complain of anyone harassing her? An old boyfriend?”
Nicole flattened her hand against her throat. “No, no. I can’t see Missy having an enemy in her life. Everyone loved her.” She stilled and all the color drained from her face. She bit her lip and regarded Brett, indecision in her eyes.
“Tell me. What is it?”
“Like I said the other day, she was going to visit a boyfriend in Buffalo. The thing is, I don’t know anything about him.” Nicole scratched her cheek and her speech halted. “I think she was dating someone in Silver Lake, too.”
Excitement ramped up his pulse. “Do you know his name?”
Nicole slowly shook her head. “She said she couldn’t tell me. Something about it being too new. She didn’t want to jinx it. Silly, really.” She leaned forward and tugged off her coat and plucked at her shirt. “I think she thought I’d disapprove of this guy.”
“Any ideas?”
Nicole shrugged. “None.”
Brett ran his finger across his chin. “And you haven’t had any run-ins with anyone lately?” A whisper of regret niggled at the back of his brain. He hadn’t meant to say “lately” but it was hard not to think of his brother when it came to Nicole. She had been cast as the villain in Max’s untimely death.
Was that fair?
“No I haven’t had any run-ins.” Sounding tired, she stood and swiped her coat from the chair. “This is exactly the reason I hate living in Silver Lake. You are all still judging me.” Her eyes sparked with anger. “Do you ever wonder what you could have done to save your brother?”
Brett’s stomach bottomed out. Of course he had. Brett thought he had guided his brother back onto the right path. But Nicole had had more influence. “You were with him that night. You could have stopped him.”
She lifted her eyes to meet his. Her brows snapped together and her mouth opened, then closed as if she were about to say something, then changed her mind. “I’d give anything to change what happened that night. But I can’t. I did the only thing I could. I changed.”
Brett bit back an angry retort. His feelings were still raw when it came to his brother’s untimely death.
Nicole planted her fist on her hip. “Now that you ask, I do have enemies. You and your family.”
Her words cut to the core. “My family was devastated by Max’s death.”
Nicole drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “I don’t think your mother or father would shed any tears if I ended up in the icy lake.” Nicole’s posture slumped and she pivoted toward the door.
“My parents were destroyed when Max died. But they’re not heartless.” Brett scrubbed his hand across his face.
Nicole slowly turned around, sympathy etched on her features. Brett had been so hurt by his brother’s death, the only consideration he had given Nicole was blame.
Max had made his own mistakes. Since he was dead, Nicole was an easy target. Guilt twisted his insides.
Nicole bit her bottom lip. “I’ll never get away from my past as long as I live in Silver Lake. I wish I lived somewhere where no one judges me for the stupid mistakes of my youth.”
They locked eyes. She seemed to mentally shake her head. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
Brett stepped into her path.
“What? Do you want to remind me of something else I did wrong?” Her tone held both impatience and annoyance.
“Do you have a good relationship with Ethan’s father?” Brett found himself holding his breath, waiting for her answer. His pulse roared in his ears.
Splotches of red bloomed on her neck and cheeks. Nicole’s wide-eyed gaze darted around the bookstore. “What does my son’s father have to do with this?”
Brett never took his eyes from Nicole’s face. “A woman’s greatest enemy is often someone close to home.”
* * *
Nicole stormed out of the bookstore. The bells clacked against the glass door, jarring her already frayed nerves. The wind whipped her face as a million thoughts assaulted her brain. She hated Silver Lake.
Hated, hated it.
Sometimes an obligation—like caring for her grandmother—trumped the strongest desire. Like the desire to move away.
Away from small-town gossips.
Away from the shameful mistakes of her past.
Away from Brett Eggert.
Ethan’s father had nothing to do with this nightmare she was living. Ethan’s father was dead.
Adjusting her scarf around her neck, she picked up her pace, determined to get back to the funeral home without discussing this mess with Brett anymore. She didn’t want to answer any more questions, especially not about her son. She feared Brett had taken one look into her son’s eyes and figured out Ethan was his nephew. Now he was using the investigation into Missy’s accident to get answers.
It was none of his business. Ethan was her son. She had raised him alone for seven