Tessa Donovan stared across the parking lot of Donovan Brothers Brewery, mesmerized by the flashes and swirls of blue and red across the gray brick of the building. She couldn't help but stare. The police lights were so at odds with the birdsong and pale sunlight of the early–morning hour.
Her brother Jamie stood between the two cop cars parked at haphazard angles near the back door. He wore a dazed expression, probably because he'd never met an early morning willingly.
She stalked across the parking lot and grabbed her brother by the collar of his rumpled T–shirt.
"Hey!" he protested.
Tessa pulled him closer, tugging him down until they were nose to nose. "James Francis Donovan," she whispered, "what have you done?"
"What are you talking about?" Jamie asked, sounding just outraged enough that Tessa almost believed him for a second. But only for a second.
She twisted his collar tighter. "spill it."
"Come on, Tessa." He yanked away from her grip and waved an angry hand at the police cars. "You're not accusing me of having something to do with the robbery, I hope? I set the alarm, I locked the doors. This is not my fault."
Tessa ran a suspicious eye down her brother's body. He looked like he always did. Tall and handsome and laid–back. His jeans were worn out by a thousand washings, his T–shirt faded to cloudy gray. His light brown hair was sleep–tousled, but that was nothing new. Unfortunately, neither was the guilty shift of his eyes when she looked into them.
"Damn it, Jamie."
"Tessa—"
"I know the robbery wasn't your fault, but you said you were the one who found the door open. So what the hell were you doing here at seven in the morning? And why'd you call me instead of Eric?"
Eric was their older sibling, and though they all owned equal shares of the brewery, Eric had always taken the lead. He was the logical person to call to report that the brewery had been robbed. But Jamie had called her instead. not good. not good at all.
Jamie ran a hand through his hair and stared up at the pale blue sky. "It's bad, Tessa."
Her heart fell to somewhere below street level. "What's bad? What?"
"Monica Kendall came by last night."
"No. Oh, no, no, no." Monica Kendall was the vice president of High West Air and the key to the distribution deal that Eric had been working on for months. "Jamie, please tell me you didn't. Even you wouldn't be that stupid."
"Even I wouldn't? Nice thing to say to your brother."
"Jamie!" she screeched. God, she wished the cops would turn the lights off on the patrol cars. The colors were digging into her eye sockets.
Jamie finally gave up his outraged stance. His shoulders slumped. His head fell. "I don't know what happened," he murmured. "She said she wanted a tour of the brewery. Of course, she sampled a few of the beers and then…"
"And then?"
"She needed a ride home."
Tessa's sunken heart flopped weakly. She knew exactly what he meant. Women loved Jamie, and at twenty–nine, he was in the prime of loving women right back. "No," she muttered again. "This isn't happening."
"I took her home," he said. "I had to."
"You could've called a cab!"
"Tessa… Christ, I just thought I'd get her home and take a cab back and. I didn't mean to—"
"You didn't mean to? Good God, you are such a dog! Try thinking with your brain sometime, Jamie. Just on special occasions if that's all you can handle."
His eyes flashed green hurt, and Tessa immediately felt terrible. He'd been lobbying for more responsibility at the brewery lately, trying to step up to the plate, but Eric had resisted. If he found out about this.
"Okay," Tessa said, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Okay, as long as her dad doesn't find out. Monica won't say anything, right? Why would she?"
The blank regret on his face told a different story, but before she could get it out of him, the back door of the brewery opened and one of the officers came out. "A detective is on his way over. He'll want to walk through with you when he arrives, Mr. Donovan."
"Thanks," Jamie muttered.
Tessa craned her neck to try to see through the cracked door. "You're sure the tanks are okay?"
Jamie nodded. "Everything looks fine except for a couple of missing computers and one keg."
The break–in should have been the most upsetting event of the day. On any other day, she'd be crying and wringing her hands over the violation. But if Eric found out what Jamie had done with Monica Kendall, it would ruin her brothers' relationship, and her brothers…they were all she had. She had to fix this, somehow.
"Please, Jamie," she said as the officer paced toward his car. "Tell me there's no more bad news."
He sighed as if he'd been holding his breath. "It was stupid. You're right. really fucking stupid. But it seemed like it would be no big deal this morning. It was fine. Only I didn't realize… When we pulled up to her place last night, I thought it was just a house up in the foothills. But it wasn't. She lives in the guesthouse. Her dad's guesthouse."
For a moment, the world actually turned around Tessa's head. The sky and the clouds and the dark green pine trees—they rotated in a slow, sick spin. Tessa closed her eyes and prayed.
"When she was pulling out of her garage, her dad jogged right past. He saw me."
"Oh, God." This was the perfect storm of bad news. Their brother had been working Roland Kendall for months, trying to convince him that Donovan Brothers beer would be the perfect microbrew to serve on the fleet of the brand–new High West Airline. Eric had worked stubbornly toward this moment, intent on getting the brand into new hands, new customers. A few weeks before, he'd finally arranged a private meeting with Roland and his daughter, Monica. They'd made their final pricing offer. The deal had almost been done, the contracts sent over.
And now…disaster in the form of Jamie Donovan. "I'm going to kill you," she said flatly. "This one woman. Just this one woman you had to avoid touching."
"That's not fair," he snapped. "You two always talk like I'm with a new woman every night. I haven't dated in months!"
Tessa crossed her arms and paced away from him, trying to think. "Are you sure he saw you?"
"He saw me. Though I suppose it's possible he didn't recognize me."
"Okay. We can handle this," Tessa said, thinking fast. "First of all, don't say anything to Eric."
Jamie shook his head. "I need to tell him."
"Are you insane?" she snapped. "Eric is going to be furious. With both of us! I took your side on this, damn it. I told him to let you help with the negotiations. You are not telling Eric."
"He's going to find out. And I'm not interested in hiding from him like a kid avoiding punishment. This is my company, too. If I screwed up, I'll face it."
"This isn't just about you, Jamie. We're a family, and I don't want this to be the wedge that finally drives us apart. So keep your mouth shut until I find out what Roland Kendall is going to do."
He threw his hands up in frustration, but Tessa ignored him. Sometimes the best defense was a good offense, and Tessa was on the attack today.
"Here's what you're going to do," she said in a rush. "I'm going to leave. You call Eric as if he's the first one you called. If he asks, you went home with a woman and she dropped you off this morning, but do not mention Monica Kendall. I'll come back in twenty minutes or so and act like I've never been here."
"God, you've gotten devious," he muttered.
He had no idea.
"I'll call Roland Kendall later and see if I can read him. You keep your mouth shut."
"Tessa," he started, but she stalked away from him, heading down the street toward her house.
She knew she should be worried about the robbery, but that seemed far and away the least of her problems. Even losing the deal with High West wouldn't exactly be a family tragedy.except that it would be.
Eric was becoming more and more withdrawn into his role as head of the family. Tessa could understand that. He'd filled the shoes of their father since their parents had died in a car accident. Eric had only been twenty–four when he'd become responsible for two kids and a business. So Tessa could understand why, thirteen years later, he might have trouble stepping back from that. But he had to.
If Eric needed to relax a little, Jamie needed to add some stress to his world. He couldn't keep living like a carefree bartender for the rest of his life. Hell, he didn't even want to. He wanted to step up and act like a full–fledged partner. Minus, apparently, any restraint when it came to women. But plenty of successful men had that problem. There was no reason Jamie shouldn't join their ranks.
Tessa spotted another patrol car approaching, followed by a suspiciously nondescript sedan. She ducked her head, trying to escape the crime scene undetected. Her house, the house they'd all grown up in, was only three blocks away. She'd change from her yoga pants to jeans and brush her hair as if she'd been up for an hour before receiving Jamie's call. Speaking of.
She hit redial on her cell phone. "Did you call Eric yet?"
"He's on his way," Jamie muttered, then reminded her, "I don't like this."
"I know. But we have to make this right."
"He's our brother, Tessa, not our dad. I don't answer to him."
...
