“I think I did something like that too.” Jason chuckled and signaled the waitress for more coffee. “A house full of teenage boys all the time must have been interesting. I bet more than a few of your brother’s friends had a crush on you.”
Jason had no idea the wound he was poking at. He was a nice man and wouldn’t have a clue about her upbringing. The waitress refilled their cups and Brinley calmly poured cream and sugar into hers. It hurt to tell the truth but she’d heard that the truth would set her free.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure none of them did. I was always considered the homely sister in the Snow residence.”
His jaw went slack and his eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t think there’s anyone that could seriously call you homely. Were you a late bloomer or something?”
Tracing patterns in some spilled sugar on the formica table, Brinley shook her head. “Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t honestly know. You see, my sister was a beauty queen. She was a Miss Illinois and several other titles I don’t remember. Plus prom queen and homecoming queen, of course.”
Jason scowled and set his mug back on the table. “Do you mean like ‘All I want is world peace’ kind of beauty queen? That kind?”
Brinley had to slap her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. “Yes, although the contestants don’t give that answer nearly as much as people think they do.”
She should know. Her parents had made her sit through every one of Dawn’s pageants.
“I’m sure you could have won a few if you’d wanted to,” Jason pressed. “You’re a very attractive woman, Brinley.”
A warm feeling in her abdomen took hold at his sincere words. She’d had few compliments growing up so she appreciated them when they came along. It didn’t hurt that she thought Jason Anderson was pretty dishy as well.
“Dawn was more than attractive.” Brinley struggled to explain to a stranger who had never met her sister. “She has…charisma. That something that draws people to her. I was pretty ordinary in comparison. My mother said that I was born with the common sense and that Dawn was born with the glamour.”
*
Jason had to physically restrain himself from marching out of the pancake house, finding Brinley’s parents wherever they were, and smacking them upside the head. It was clear their words had hurt this sensitive young woman more than she cared to admit.
Something urged him to reach out and cover her hand with his, so small and soft compared to his own. “I’m from a big family and I know how it can be. One child is the jock. One is the brains. Another is the family clown. Our families put us in these slots and sometimes we get stuck there even in adulthood.”
“Dawn was glamorous. Beautiful.” Brinley shifted in the chair and stared out of the front window, avoiding his gaze. “Mom and Dad weren’t being mean or anything. They were telling it like it is. Dan was a great athlete and got a college scholarship. Dawn won pageants. I just didn’t do anything special. I lead a pretty quiet, unremarkable life if you want to know the truth.”
Jason had hidden scars he didn’t talk about but so did Brinley. Very different than his own but still painful. She was carrying around baggage she should had thrown off long ago.
“First, I think you look terrific. Very pretty. Any man would be proud to have you on his arm.” He squeezed her fingers reassuringly and she finally turned back to him, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. There was a soft gratefulness in her gaze that made him want to enfold her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. “Second, I don’t think you can call your life ordinary or unremarkable any longer. A man died last night with your address in his hand. That’s not something that happens every day.”
A slow smile crossed her face and she actually began to laugh. “I never thought about it that way. I guess that is rare, or at least I hope it is for the sake of others. You have a great ability to see situations from an alternative angle. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
Once or twice.
“Thank you. When this is all over you’ll have a great story to tell your family. They won’t think you’re ordinary anymore.”
Brinley rested her chin in her palm, looking contemplative, but happier than she had a few minutes ago.
“I do have more than my share of common sense.”
“Good,” he said briskly as his phone began to vibrate. “We’re going to need every bit of it. That’s how cases are solved, you know. Hard work and common sense.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond, instead answering his cell. It was his brother West.
“How’s it going? Any news?”
“You have terrible phone manners,” West chided. “Didn’t Mom teach you to say ‘hello’?”
“Okay, we’ll do it like that. Hello?”
His brother was busting his balls and Jason didn’t have much patience with it.
“That’s better. I do have some news, actually. I talked to the brother and informed him of Roger Gaines’s death. He’s agreed to talk to us this afternoon. I’m still tied up with the other murder case plus another meeting with the mayor. That man is a menace to this town. Election time can’t come soon enough. Is there any way you can make the trip?”
It was about two hours away but if they left right now they’d be there midday. Especially the way Jason drove. There were some moments like this where he really missed having a helicopter at his disposal.
“I don’t suppose you have a pen in that thing?” He gestured toward Brinley’s oversized purse. It was more like an overnight bag. He couldn’t imagine what she needed with something that big.
She nodded and dug deep into the recesses of the leather purse, pulling out a pen triumphantly and holding it up. Snagging it from her fingers, he jotted down the name and address on a napkin.
“Thanks, West. I’ll call you when we’re done.”
He hung up and handed the pen back, tucking the napkin into his shirt pocket. “Are you ready for more work?”
She nodded eagerly, her hazel eyes sparkling. “Absolutely. Where to next?”
He dug a few bills out of his wallet and tossed them on the table, waving away her own attempt to help pay the check. It wasn’t a date but Jason was old-fashioned about things like who paid or who opened the door.
“Billings. We’re going to talk to Roger Gaines’s older brother.” He checked himself. “Wait, I meant I am going to talk and you are going to sit there quietly and listen. How does that sound?”
Her full pink lips drooped with disappointment. “Typical. It sounds typical. But I’ll be like a quiet little mouse. You won’t even know I’m there.”
Jason would always know Brinley was near. She was a woman you couldn’t miss or ignore.
Chapter Six
‡
The resemblance was strong between Stuart and Roger Gaines. Both had a pallor that spoke of an indoor lifestyle plus a slight paunch around the middle that suggested hours of sitting per day. Both had the same hooked nose at the bridge and dark brown hair with a receding hairline. The only difference was that Stuart’s – being the older brother – had marched back a few more inches than Roger’s.
Stuart Gaines and his wife Lisa sat across from Jason and Brinley at the couple’s kitchen table. Stuart was holding his wife’s hand while drinking a cup of the coffee Lisa had served when they all sat down.
“We’re very sorry for your loss, Mr. Gaines. I know this is a difficult time for you and your wife but I do need to ask you a few questions. Your information could help us find the person that did this to Roger.”
Brinley held her tongue as Jason tried to alleviate the tension in the air. She’d never talked to anyone whose loved one had been murdered. Lisa and Stuart both had red-rimmed eyes indicating they’d been crying. It felt strange and a little rude to intrude upon someone’s grieving with nosy, personal questions but she and Jason had little choice if they wanted to find the killer.