The short, middle-aged brunette offered Sheridan a sad smile. “I should’ve realized who you were when I saw the wheelchair. I heard about what happened. I’m so sorry.”
“I was actually very lucky. If Cain hadn’t been there, I probably wouldn’t be alive right now.”
“Makes you feel as if you’re not safe in your own house anymore.” Looking a bit haunted, she rubbed her arms. “I’m a single mother of three teenage girls. It’s terrifying to think there’s someone in our town capable of beating a woman to death.”
“We’re going to catch him,” Sheridan said. “Don’t worry.”
“I hope you do.” She pointed at the pack of cigarettes in Marshall’s pocket. “I’ve got to finish my rounds. But if you don’t want Bertha to take those away from you, you’d better put them in your drawer like you usually do. She’s a lot stricter than I am.” She grinned at Cain and Sheridan on her way out. “And he thinks I don’t know where he hides them.”
When she was gone, Cain nudged his grandfather. “How can you complain about this place? Looks to me like you’ve got everyone wrapped around your little finger.”
Marshall’s blue-veined hand found Cain’s smooth, strong forearm. “Only my favorite grandson,” he said. “Can I give you money to take this beautiful lady to dinner?” He reached into his pocket to pull out some cash, but Cain stopped him.
“I don’t need your money, Grandpa. I just need you to take care of yourself, okay?”
“You’re a good boy,” he said.
“Hey, be careful,” Cain responded. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”
Marshall shook his head. “If folks don’t know you by now they’re more blind than I am.”
Cain chuckled. “I’ve got to take Sheridan home. She shouldn’t be out too long just yet.”
“You two go ahead.” Marshall waved them toward the door. “You know where I am.”
Cain clasped his grandfather’s hand and hugged him at the same time, then wheeled Sheridan from the room.
“What?” Cain asked when they were out in the sunshine again.
“What…what?” she replied.
“You’re smiling.”
“I’m glad you brought me. I like your grandfather—and it’s wonderful to be out of bed.”
“It’s easy to tell you’re from California.”
“How?”
One finger lightly brushed her bare shoulder. “You’ve been indoors for ten days, but you still have a tan.”
“I spent a week on the beach in San Diego before I came here.”
He stared at her for several seconds—and didn’t look away when she met his gaze.
“Cain?” She was growing self-conscious, but he didn’t seem to mind the silence.
“You’re even prettier now than you were then.”
Sheridan was fighting a blush of pleasure when a car door slammed a few parking spaces away. Footsteps sounded on concrete, then a voice cut in. “Well, if it isn’t my big brother.”
The smile slid from Cain’s lips as he turned and nodded in acknowledgement. “Robert.”
“Spending time with dear old Granddad today, Cain?”
“We visited for a few minutes.”
Robert tilted his head to be able to see around his stepbrother, who didn’t bother to move. “Looks like you brought someone to meet him.”
“This is Sheridan Kohl.”
“I know.” Robert bent his tall frame in a quick, mocking bow. “Her reputation precedes her.”
He could’ve been referring to a lot of things—the shooting, the attack, even her work at The Last Stand. The organization had received a great deal of publicity over the past few years, mostly due to Jasmine, who freelanced as a forensic profiler and had been instrumental in solving several high-profile cases. But Sheridan could tell Robert wasn’t referring to the attempts on her life or the work she’d done. In Whiterock, she was famous—or infamous, really—for her secret liaison with Cain twelve years ago.
“You sure know how to impress the ladies,” she said in response to his sarcasm.
He clapped a hand to his chest. “Oh, no. Not like Cain.”
Robert’s sandy hair was greasy at the roots, and he hadn’t shaved. He was bigger than most men, had been a small giant even as a boy, but with his sagging chin, sunken eyes and jaundiced pallor, the stubble covering his jaw seemed sloppy and unattractive, not shabby chic. “No,” she agreed, chuckling softly. “Not like Cain.”
His eyes narrowed at her frank honesty but Cain spoke before he could address her again. “Owen’s letting you drive one of his vehicles?”
Robert glanced at the Toyota 4x4 he’d just parked. “I have to drive something, don’t I? I can’t find ‘gainful employment’ without transportation.”
Cain hooked his thumbs in his pockets, but Sheridan sensed that he wasn’t as relaxed as he wanted to appear. “Dad thinks you’re out looking for a job?”
“I am out looking for a job.”
Cain’s eyebrows shot up. “So what are you doing here?”
“I can’t visit Grandpa while I’m doing it?”
“Not if you’re going to ask him for more money.”
“I just need a short-term loan,” he said. “I gotta get my car fixed.”
“Can’t you work it out some other way?” Displeasure sharpened Cain’s voice. “Give the old guy a break?”
Robert shrugged his shoulders. “He’s got nothing better to do with what he’s got left.”
Cain’s right hand curved into a fist, but he didn’t react to Robert’s disrespectful and ungrateful statement. Shaking out his fingers, he changed the subject. “Why’d you tell Amy that Jason and I argued the night he was killed?”
The insolent grin that tugged at the corners of Robert’s mouth made Sheridan dislike him even more. “Because you did.”
“How would you know? You weren’t home that night.”
“I was home right after school. And that’s when you argued.”
“It was a discussion, and it wasn’t anything serious. We both wanted to use the truck. He told me he had a date, and I said I’d let him have it if he’d take me over to Scooter’s before he left. That was it.”