“I don’t,” he told her flatly.
“Okay then,” she replied, trying her best to sound as if she was all right with that arrangement.
Brianna looked out the window, biting her lower lip. Telling herself she was doing the right thing.
She lasted for three and a half blocks.
“All right, damn it, who was that?” she asked.
“What happened to ‘only if you want to tell me’?” Jackson asked.
“I lied,” she admitted. “I want you to tell me. Who was that on the phone?”
Jackson sighed, keeping his eyes on the road, not trusting himself to look at her right now. He was an exceptionally private person, and part of him was all set to dig in.
But oddly enough, there was a small part that wanted the release of sharing this burden, even if logically he knew there was nothing she could do or say about it that would help in the slightest.
Maybe he was losing it.
“My brother.” The two words came out grudgingly.
Now that Muldare had opened the door, more questions just came pouring out. “Where is he? Why does he want you to get him out?”
Jackson shook his head. He should have known better than to say anything, he thought. “Damn, I really miss those clamshell phones.” If he’d had one of those, chances were good that she wouldn’t have been able to overhear Jimmy’s pleading.
Brianna shifted in her seat to face him squarely. “Jackson, I’m serious. Drop me off at the station. If you need to go to your brother, do it,” she urged.
Damn it, he should have just kept his mouth shut. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”
“He’s your brother and he obviously needs you,” she said. “I’m part of a big family and I know all about being there for a sibling. I’ve been on both sides of that—needing and being needed.”
For a moment he debated telling her that none of this was her business, but he knew O’Bannon was only concerned. It wasn’t something he was used to, but apparently it was a big thing in the world she lived in.
For just a split second, he wondered what it must have been like, growing up in her world. A sliver of envy pricked him.
Giving in to the inevitable—and maybe hoping for a little peace—he told her, “My brother’s an addict and he’s in rehab. He doesn’t want to be there, but that’s where he’s going to stay until he can get through a day without numbing the hell out of his mind with any drug he can get his hands on.”
His voice was hard. It came from hardening himself in order not to give in to his brother’s begging and pleading. It also came from turning a deaf ear to the scores of promises he’d heard from Jimmy, promises to “do better next time.”
“I put him there and he’s going to stay there until he’s kicked his habit. Any more questions?” he snapped.
“Just one,” Brianna answered quietly, holding up an index finger. When he looked at her, she said, “Why the hell have you been carrying this bottled up inside you without telling me?”
He would have glared at her if he didn’t have to keep his eyes on the road. “What the hell are you talking about? They just put us together on this case.”
That was just an excuse and he knew it, she thought. “But this isn’t our first time working together.” When he said nothing in response, Brianna tried again, reminding him, “We’ve gone out for drinks.”
“I went out for a drink,” he corrected. “You just happened to be there.” As expected, she’d found a way to strew rose petals all over and cloud the issue, Jackson thought, annoyed with himself for saying anything to her.
Brianna sighed. “You really make it hard to be your friend.”
Where the hell had that come from? “I’m not asking you to be my friend,” he told her.
“Too bad,” she responded with a laugh. “You’re stuck with me.”
Again, he knew she meant well, but this was a doomed venture on her part. Didn’t she understand that? Because he did like her in his own way, he tried to make her understand. “Look, O’Bannon, I’m not a touchy-feely type person—”
Brianna raised her hands as if to underscore her statement. “No touching, no feeling, just talking.”
They stopped at a light, and this time he did look at her. The woman was impossible. “Do you know if they have any openings in the K-9 unit?”
He saw her smile spread; somehow it seemed to take over her entire expression, like a morning sunrise.
“Sorry, you’re out of luck. No openings. Don’t worry,” she told him kindly. “You don’t have to talk to me right now.”
“Thank God.”
You are not going to put me off, Jackson Muldare, no matter how hard you try, she silently vowed.
“But I’m here when you need me.”
Pressing down on the accelerator, Jackson just barely made it through a yellow light before it turned red. “Does the phrase when hell freezes over mean anything to you, O’Bannon?”
“Nope.” Brianna suddenly turned in her seat, looking to her right as he drove by the police station. “Hey!” she cried, raising her voice. “You just passed the precinct, Muldare.”
“I know,” he answered, unfazed. “We’re going to city hall.”
“But—” Her protest froze and then she sighed, sinking back into her seat. “You know, you’re as stubborn as I am.”
Although he never liked being compared to anyone or anything, he had to admit this one had some merit. And, oddly enough, it didn’t bother him.
“I guess that’s what makes this interesting,” he responded.
* * *
Harold Harris was on the premises and available when Jackson and Brianna asked to speak with him. Moreover, they found that he was more than happy to see them and answer their questions.
According to the councilman, he and some of his fellow council members thought that the Old Aurora Hotel’s time had come and gone. Legend had it that
