the feeling he had when he was around her any more than he could forget her. Both a problem.
“I think you’ve finally found your calling,” the owner of the Wharf Rat jeered as Jonah stepped behind the bar again. Brody Ries straddled a stool at the far end, a cigar hanging from his thick lips, his small brown eyes narrowed against the smoke spiraling up. “You seem to have a real talent for mean-drunk tossing.”
“You might be right, cuz,” Jonah said, hiding his irritation, which alone was a full-time job.
“Maybe getting kicked out of the FBI was the best thing that could have happened to you,” Brody said, and laughed, never one to pass up the opportunity to kick a man when he was down. “Working for me, you get to learn about real life. Not like that fancy-ass school you went to, I can sure as hell tell you that.”
Brody had always resented the fact that Jonah had gotten a scholarship his freshman year in high school to go to Wentworth Academy in Boston. It was there that he’d put his past behind him. Moriah’s Landing. His family. And all that both meant to him. He’d never looked back, going on to college and then getting into the FBI. If he’d had his way, he’d have never come back here.
But plans change.
“You know, it’s odd,” Brody was saying, “one of your old buddies was in here just last night, not two hours before you showed up. An ex-FBI agent by the name of Deke Turner. Ring any bells?”
Just that loud clanging one that reminded him how dead he was if he ran into Deke again. “Maybe, but then the FBI is kind of a large place, you know, Brody.”
“Oh yeah?” Brody looked disappointed. And skeptical. “Too bad. You two have a lot in common. It seems he got booted out of the FBI, too. Only, I would have sworn he said he knew you. What’s wild is that he said he just got out of the slammer and heard about your trouble with the feds and decided to come looking for you. Seems he just missed you. Maybe he’ll come back in today.”
Jonah busied himself behind the bar, trying to keep from looking toward the door and letting Brody see just how worried he was about Deke showing up right now.
“So, what exactly are you going to teach me, Brody?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light, trying to change the subject.
“Oh, you’ll see, cuz. We’ll see how you do behind the bar first.” He studied him. “I’ll be watching you real close. The only reason I’m trusting you at all is because we are blood.”
Don’t remind me, Jonah thought. I’ll be watching you even closer, cuz. He’d seen Brody’s expensive sports car, the fancy clothes, heard about the ostentatious home outside of town, the money-hungry ex-wife and the semiclassy influential friends, all out of Brody’s league. Either the bar made a lot of money and Brody’s manners had improved, or his cousin was into something dishonest but highly profitable. Jonah would bet on the latter.
“I can’t tell you what your giving me a job means to me,” he said honestly. The Wharf Rat was the heartbeat of the wharf area. Something illegal going on? This was the place to find out. Brody had his fingers in anything and everything—including a poker game with a man Jonah was dying to meet.
“We’ve all been down on our luck,” Brody said, still eyeing him. “But all the way from an FBI agent to barkeep, that’s one long fall.”
He’d expected Brody to be suspicious—and he was. Jonah would have to watch himself. His cousin was no fool.
“Even you, it seems, can hit the bottom of the barrel,” Brody said, as if in awe. “Maybe if you play your cards right, you won’t always have to be a bartender.”
Jonah was counting on it.
BACK AT HER OFFICE, Kat took out her frustrations doing the job she hated most: filing, which included kicking a few file cabinets and slamming a few drawers.
Her face still burned, Jonah’s words still buzzing in her ears, the memory of his touch branding her skin with a fire his words had done little to put out.
She was totally disgusted with herself.
She couldn’t believe she’d felt relieved to find out he had a job in town and wasn’t just some drifter passing through. Right now she’d love to see his backside heading out on the highway.
Especially since she hadn’t missed his reaction when she told him about the “FBI friend” asking about him. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he was a bartender at the Wharf Rat, she suspected that wasn’t even the worst of it.
Digging into the huge stack of filing, she reminded herself of her plan to get a receptionist. The problem was, every time she thought about hiring someone, something came up. This time, it was a new furnace for the house. She also wanted to help with Emily’s tuition in the fall. Kat was determined that girl was going to college. If not Heathrow, then somewhere else.
Their father had left them both insurance money, but it wouldn’t be enough if Emily got into a good college. Kat had been given the greater share because their father had known she would have to finish raising Emily if anything happened to him. Emily wouldn’t get the bulk of her inheritance until she turned twenty-one, which had become a sore point with her sister.
“Daddy didn’t trust me,” Em had cried.
“I’m sure he just thought you would appreciate the money more when you finished college.”
Her sister had given her one of those eye-rolling looks. “I’d appreciate it right now since I’m not going to college.”
Kat hadn’t pushed it, but she wanted more than anything for her little sister to get an education. Em didn’t have any idea how much fun college could be. But Kat did. Her best friend, Elizabeth, could attest to the good times they’d had. Kat had taught her to loosen up and Elizabeth had taught Kat how to study—the only reason Kat had gotten her degree. Elizabeth had also encouraged her to go into criminology and open an agency with the money Kat’s father had left her. It had been the best two things Kat had ever done.
To her surprise, it was almost seven by the time she finished the filing. She walked to the Witch’s Brew to finally meet Ross, her real online blind date, hoping he’d make her forget all about her mystery date from the night before.
JONAH CLIMBED UP the back stairs to his apartment over the bar, checking to make sure no one had been inside since he’d left. He knew Brody had a spare key and had come in while he was gone this morning. No doubt to look around for proof that Jonah was as down on his luck as he’d said.
But this time, the short piece of dental floss he’d left out of habit in the door was still in place and the second-story windows were still locked. He knew nothing had been touched as he glanced around, a deep gut knowing. The intensity of the feeling scared him, making him only too aware what being back in Moriah’s Landing was doing to him. Another cause for concern.
The apartment looked worse than it had last night—and that was saying a lot. Last night he’d been too exhausted to care if it resembled a Dumpster—it already smelled like one. The moment he’d opened the door with the key his cousin had given him, he caught the entrenched scent of long-ago fried fish and spilled beer. The plasterboard walls had holes in them the shape of fists, a sure sign of what kind of renters had been
