LITMIR.BIZ

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brothers.

      “I’m Reed Sullivan, by the way.”

      Upon hearing the name Sullivan, she said, “Ruby O’Toole. Do you by any chance know Lacey Bell Sullivan?”

      “We’ve known Lacey forever,” Marsh said. “Two days ago she married our younger brother, Noah.”

      “How do you know our new sister-in-law?” This time it was Reed who spoke.

      And she found her gaze locked with his. “I bought Bell’s Tavern from Lacey. I’m a little surprised to run into you again so soon,” she said. “I mean, one chance encounter is one thing.”

      “Is that what this is?” Reed asked. “A chance encounter?”

      His hair was five shades of blond in this light, his skin tan. There were lines beside his eyes, and something intriguing in them.

      Something came over her, settling deeper, slowly tugging at her insides. She couldn’t think of anything to say, and that was unusual for her. Reed’s gaze remained steady on hers, and it occurred to her that he wasn’t talking anymore, either.

      He was looking at her with eyes that saw God only knew what. It made these chance encounters feel heaven-sent, and that made her heart speed up and her thoughts warm.

      In some far corner of her mind, she knew she had to say something, do something. She could have mentioned that she’d met their sister, Madeline, a few months ago, but that made this feel even more like destiny, and that simply wouldn’t do. Someone mentioned the weather, and she was pretty sure Reed said something about the Tigers.

      Normally, the weather and baseball were safe topics. They would have been safe today, but Reed smiled, and Ruby lost all sensation in her toes. Moments ago, the noise in the room had been almost deafening. Suddenly, voices faded and the clatter of silverware ceased.

      Ruby’s breath caught just below the little hollow at the base of her throat and a sound only she could hear echoed deep inside her chest. Part sigh, part low croon, it slowly swept across her senses.

      In some far corner of her mind, she was aware that Marsh said something. He spoke again. After the third time, Reed looked dazedly at his brother.

      “Our table’s ready,” Marsh explained.

      It took Ruby a moment to gather her wits, but she finally found her voice. “It was nice meeting you,” she said to Marsh.

      Her gaze locked with Reed’s again. She wasn’t sure what had just happened between them, but something had. She’d heard about moments like this; she’d even read about them, but she’d never experienced one quite like it herself. Until today.

      After giving him a brief nod, she wended her way through the crowded room toward the counter to order her lunch to go. Initially she’d planned to wait for a table. Instead, she fixed her eyes straight ahead while her take-out order was being filled. All the while, her heart seemed intent upon fluttering up into her throat.

      It was a relief when she walked out into the bright sunshine, the white paper bag that contained her lunch in her hand, her oversize purse hanging from her shoulder. Dazedly donning a pair of sunglasses, she hurried down the sidewalk. She’d reached the corner before the haze began to clear in her mind. Up ahead, two young girls were having their picture taken in front of the fountain on the courthouse square and several veterans were gathered around the flagpole.

      Ruby skidded to a stop and looked around. Where was she?

      She glanced to the right and to the left, behind her at the distance she’d come, then ahead where the sun glinted off the bronze sculpture on the courthouse lawn. With rising dismay, she shook her head.

      She was going the wrong way.

      * * *

      “Care to tell me what you’re doing?” Marsh asked Reed after the waitress cleared their places.

      Decorated in classic Americana diner style, the Hill had its original black-and-white tile floors, booths with chrome legs and benches covered in red vinyl. Other than the menu, which had been adapted to modern tastes and trends, very little had changed. The Sullivans had been coming here for years. This was the first time they’d brought a baby with them, however.

      Reed double-checked the buckles on Joey’s car seat. The baby’s head was up, his feet were down and the straps weren’t twisted. Ten days ago he hadn’t known the correct way to fasten an infant safely into a car seat. That first week had been one helluva crash course for all three of them, but now Reed could buckle Joey into this contraption with his eyes closed. He could prepare a bottle when he was half asleep, too. Even diaper changing was getting easier.

      Sliding to the end of his side of the booth, he said, “I’m buckling Joey into this car seat. What does it look like I’m doing?”

      “You noticed nothing unusual here today?” Marsh countered in a quiet voice strong enough to penetrate steel.

      “If you have a point, make it. I don’t have time to play Twenty Questions,” Reed declared.

      “You don’t seem concerned that the judge joined us for lunch,” Marsh said, digging into his pocket for the tip.

      Ivan Sullivan was one of those men few people liked but most couldn’t help respecting.

      After discovering Joey on their doorstep ten days ago, Marsh, Reed and Noah had paid their great-uncle a visit at the courthouse. An abandoned minor child was no laughing matter, and no one had been laughing as the brothers fell into rank in the judge’s chambers. The note clearly stated that Joey was a Sullivan, and they’d had every intention of caring for him themselves while they unraveled this puzzle. In order for Joey to remain under their care, they were to keep the judge apprised of Joey’s progress in detailed, weekly in-person reports.

      Reed glanced over the heads of other diners and watched his great-uncle cut a path to the door. The way the aging judge tapped his cane on the floor with his every step only added to his haughtiness. Today’s interrogation had been impromptu, but it was completely in keeping with his character. Surely, Marsh agreed.

      His older brother left the tip on the table and Reed picked up the car seat with Joey strapped securely inside. Showing up in public with the baby had been the private investigator’s suggestion. Arguably the most successful P.I. in the state, Sam Lafferty was banking on the possibility that seeing Marsh and Reed with Joey would stir up a little gossip and perhaps jar someone’s memory of having seen an unknown woman with a small baby in the area.

      “We’re doing our best to care for Joey,” Reed insisted. “The judge knows that. We leveled with him today.”

      “We?” Marsh countered. “He asked what steps we’re taking to locate Joey’s mother and why we haven’t hired a permanent nanny and how much Joey weighs and where he sleeps. You, who can outtalk most politicians, barely said boo.”

      “I wouldn’t go that far,” Reed argued.

      “That a fact?”

      Reed narrowed his eyes at his brother’s tone. And waited.

      “You ordered the salmon,” Marsh said offhandedly.

      “That was salmon?” Reed asked.

      Marsh slanted him a look not unlike the judge’s. “You had meat loaf. It arrived with a loaded baked potato just the way I ordered it. Shelly mixed up our plates. You dug into my lunch the moment she set it in front of you.”

      With his sinking feeling growing stronger, Reed raked his fingers through his hair, for surely the shrewdest judge in the county had noticed Reed’s faux pas. If he and Marsh were going to keep Joey out of the system, neither of them had better display so much as a hint of poor behavior.

      They walked outside together and stood shoulder to shoulder beneath the red-and-white awning shading the restaurant’s facade.

      Grasping the handle of the car seat firmly in his right hand, Reed let the seat

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