Nemesis (Southern Comfort) (4 page)

Which, come to think of it, was sort of depressing.

Rolling her eyes because Dec’s bad mood seemed to be catching, Kathleen started toward the bar.  Her dad and brothers were swamped and probably wouldn’t say no if she offered to help.

Cool air and moonlight spilled into the room from the front door, disturbing air that had grown thick with the press of humanity, and Kathleen watched for the new arrivals.  There were too many partygoers between her and the door to identify anyone readily, but when no discernible patron appeared she shook her head in disgust.  Earlier in the evening a customer had seen fit to bring in her miniature schnauzer. Despite the fact that Declan clearly informed the woman that a dog had no place in a food service establishment, Kathleen suspected she was attempting to smuggle the mutt back in simply because she wanted Dec to reprimand her again.  Probably with various parts of his body slapping against various parts of hers. 

Why so many women lost their minds over his
moody and broody routine was absolutely beyond her, but she guessed there was no accounting for taste.

She edged through the crowd so that she could put the woman out of the misery that she had no idea she was in for.  Declan had a way of chewing up women and spitting them out, like a human Chipper, that was painful for a bystander to watch.

“Ma’am,” she called out to the blonde, who was crouched over the schnauzer, scratching his ears.  “We already told you that you can’t bring your dog into the bar.”

The woman turned her head.  “Is there a punch line here that I’m missing?  Maybe something having to do with a priest and a rabbi?”

Kathleen drew up short.  The small blonde in the snug jeans and wildly impractical shiny red heels looked like none other than her personal phoenix of feminine friendship.  The kind of friendship that even years of separation didn’t manage to kill.  It may have withered a bit, suffered some burns, but it always rose from the ashes. 

“Sadie Rose.  My God, is that really you?”

Sadie’s little body softened with laughter as she rose to her full, if unimpressive, height.  “It’s really me, Kathleen.  But I swear I’ve never seen this dog!”

With a squeal that would have embarrassed her had any of her coworkers been within earshot, Kathleen snatched the smaller woman into a crushing hug, sloshing beer down
her back in the process.  “Oh, Sadie.  I’m sorry. But why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“It wasn’t, uh, planned,” Sadie hedged, jostling forward as someone bumped her from behind.  The loud yelp from the vicinity of her feet drew her attention back to the schnauzer.

“Good Lord.  Let me get this dog out of here before he gets trampled.”    Kathleen corralled the enthusiastic animal and reacquainted him with the crepe myrtle to which he’d previously been tied.

“Sorry,” she reiterated again, then just stood back and looked at Sadie.  “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

SADIE
felt the tears prick before she could stop them.  It had been ages since she’d been home, not since the day following her grandma’s funeral, when her aunt and uncle had reluctantly assumed guardianship and she’d been whisked off to Colorado.  She and Kathleen had kept in close contact through the years, getting together for the odd spring break in college or random extended weekend after graduation, but since Sadie had gotten so caught up in Rick and his life and Kathleen had made detective here in Charleston, their real communication had withered to a few calls every month and increasingly irregular e-mails.  Nonetheless, Sadie still considered Kathleen the best friend she’d ever had. 

“So how are you?  How’s Rick?” Kathleen asked.

To Sadie’s horror her bottom lip started to tremble.  “He’s not… we’re not…”  She gestured vaguely to her ring-less finger.

One look at her friend’s face had Kathleen’s eyes shooting fire.  “Is there an investment banker somewhere in Denver that I need to hunt down?”

And like all the times past when Sadie’s heart had been aching, Kathleen’s unwavering loyalty made everything better.  “I thought your job was to put killers in jail, not join their ranks.”

“
Yeah, well.  It’s scumbag season and I haven’t quite filled my quota.”

Sadie
’s spirits lifted, the weight of her previous uncertainty sliding off her shoulders. It was so damn good to be home. “While that may be, you can save yourself the airfare, because I walked out on Rick.”

“No shit?” Kathleen asked, brow raising.

“No shit.” 

“Well I’m pretty sure that calls for a drink.  I never liked him much anyway.”

Kathleen wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the bar. 

“So do we hate all men or just want to
shamelessly use them for their bodies?” she asked as they bellied up. 

“Um,
neither?” Sadie said on a little laugh.  She knew that she couldn’t hold anyone else in contempt – let alone a whole gender – just because she’d allowed one man to damage her self-esteem.  And really, that was at least as much her fault as Rick’s.  Presenting a widely edited version of herself hadn’t been honest or fair to either one of them.  “Right now I’d really just like a beer.”

“
That,” Kathleen nodded with approval, “can be arranged.” Then she raised a hand to grab her brothers’ attention.

And
Sadie’s heart gave a little flip.  The last time she’d seen the twins they’d been thirteen-year-old hellions in ill-fitting suits, awkwardly avoiding eye contact across the fresh dirt of her grandmother’s grave.  The two frighteningly attractive men whose piercing gazes both turned her way surely could not be the same obnoxious boys who’d driven her crazy.

Well, Declan had
driven her crazy. Rogan actually hadn’t been all that bad, other than helping Declan set mice loose in her bedroom one night and hogging the mint chip ice cream before she and Kathleen could get to it.  They’d always been like… flip sides of a coin, she guessed.  Impossibly connected, yet opposite.

With no doubt which one was tails. 

But nonetheless, those boys bore no discernible resemblance to the men that appeared before her.  They’d been skinny and dirty all the time, unruly hair always in their eyes, and their feet seemed far too huge to ever grow into them.

But they’d clearly managed the trick.  Apart from hair that still seemed a bit unmanageable there was nothing left of the skinny boys they’d been.  They were tall and broad-shouldered and a rough kind of gorgeous that put her in mind of something primitive.  One had shoulder length hair caught back in a ponytail – a deeper brown now, though still shot with
subtle hints of red – and one shorter locks but a rather intriguing goatee.  Green Murphy’s T-shirts pulled taut over hard muscles, the kind gained from manual labor rather than three hours a week at a gym.  Both of them looked sort of… menacing.  The kind of men you didn’t want to meet in a dark alley. 

Or maybe the k
ind you did.

And what was she doing, sitting here drooling over the first attractive men she’d seen?  And these were Kathleen’s little brothers, mind you.  She’d grown up with these two, damn it.  They were basically, almost, relatives.  Not some man candy for her to be ogling.  Feeling disgusted with herself as the one with the goatee sauntered over, a white bar towel over his shoulder, Sadie noted he looked both bored and a little bit pissed.

Declan, she thought, sniffing.  She’d bet anything.

“What?” he asked Kathleen flatly. 

“A Smithwick’s for our special visitor.” 

Goatee eyed her skeptically, apparently failing to see why she should be special, then started off toward the taps before whipping his head back around.

He stared for a good twenty seconds in a way that had goose-flesh popping out on her skin.  Then a slow-dawning smile transformed his face and she caught a glimpse of the skinny boy inside the man.  Suddenly she was twelve years old again, backed against an oak tree. 

She angled her chin in unconscious challenge.

“I don’t believe it,” he said finally.  “If it isn’t little Sadie Rose Mayhew, all grown up.”  His eyes flicked toward her breasts. “Sort of,” he amended, the smile lurching to a crooked grin.

Any doubt she might have harbored as to this twin’s identity was extinguished by the sudden tide of ire.  “Declan Murphy,” she said coolly, in counterpoint to the heat creeping up her neck, “I see you’ve matured not one whit.”

His bark of amused laughter caused Kathleen’s brow to raise and brought a swamped Rogan to see what was happening. “Glad you’re all having a good time over here, but we’ve got customers expecting…”

His words trailed off and he regarded her blankly.  Then, as with his brother, recognition dawned.  The deep lake-blue eyes that were so much nicer than the other idiot’s crinkled in a welcoming smile.  “Sadie!” he said delightedly,
elbowing Declan out of the way so that he could hobble around the corner of the bar.  Sadie noted a soft-sided walking cast surrounding his right foot and recalled Kathleen’s e-mail regarding a bad accident he’d been involved in last summer – something terrible involving another man’s attempted kidnapping of their cousin Tate’s five-year-old son.  He drew close, smelling pleasantly of male sweat and soap and just a hint of strong whiskey, and planted a friendly kiss smack dab on her lips.  Sadie was relieved to feel nothing the least bit sexual.

Ignoring his lesser half, who was still smirking on the other side of the bar top, she regarded him with open affection.

“Rogan.” She tugged his ponytail in a teasing gesture.  It was quite a reach, now, as he’d grown almost a full foot taller since the last time she’d seen him, to an inch or two over six feet. “All those times Kathleen and I tried to play beauty-shop with you, and you finally grow some decent hair.”

Rogan groaned, no doubt recalling one particularly unpleasant experience with some bows and a large can of Aqua-Net.  “Let’s not talk about that in mixed company, shall we?”  He stepped back, looked her up and down.  “You grew up good, Sadie.  I’ll try to forgive you for doing it
in Colorado.”  He gave her shoulder a purely fraternal squeeze.  “How long do we have the pleasure?”

Sadie shot a look at Kathleen.  She hadn’t quite had a chance to discuss this part w
ith her.  “Permanently.”  The word seemed to stick on her tongue. “This is more of a move than an actual visit.”

Amidst a chorus of “That’s great!” and a lot of head patting and back slapp
ing, a droll voice rang out.

“So the hotshot dumped you, did he?”

A weighty silence fell around their happy cluster.  Sadie turned slowly, bristling, all her pent-up frustration finally finding an outlet.

Declan leaned insolently on the polished-copper-penny surface of the bar, expression just this side of bored.  Except for the evil flicker in his eye.

“Actually I killed him and buried him in the garden.”  She grabbed the beer from his surprised hand.  “So I’d advise you not to piss me off.”

CHAPTER FOUR

IN
retrospect, taunting a jilted female probably hadn’t been the best idea.  Poke a wounded animal, after all, and you’re likely to get bitten.  But he’d been yanking Sadie’s chain basically since infancy and old habits were the hardest to break.  It was like… Pavlov’s dog, almost.  He’d been conditioned to want to mess with Sadie.   

And besides, seeing her again had stirred up feelings he didn’t want to think about, so he’d fallen back on his failsafe and acted like an ass.

At least that’s what his brother told him.  But then Rogan was unfailingly thoughtful, and Declan tried his damndest not to think much about anybody.

Thinking led to introspection and introspection
led to things he didn’t know how to deal with, so he just went on being an asshole and everyone left him the hell alone.

But damn, she’d been something, hadn’t she?  Just as angelic look
ing as he remembered: that whitish-blonde hair fluffing like feathers around her face and those wide blue eyes all sweet and innocent. 

Of course, the whole thing was a crock.  She was about as sweet as a mouthful of vinegar.
    He’d always gotten a rush out of bringing out her temper, and fifteen years hadn’t lessened the fun one bit.  Hard to believe it had been that long since he’d seen her.  There’d been Christmas cards exchanged over the years, the odd phone call here and there, but it just wasn’t the same as being with her in the flesh. 

Not that
he’d given her all that much thought over the years, or anything.  Only when Kathleen mentioned her.  Or whenever he saw a snake.

Sometimes when he was work
ing in his mother’s rose garden.   

Then there
was that time the storm had taken down the branch that held the old tree house.

And s
ome youthful dreams that he wouldn’t admit to, even under pain of torture.  About the age of ten, creating situations where she’d be forced into kissing him became one of his major life objectives.

But there was no question that her leaving had ripped a hole in the fabric of his childhood. And it kept unraveling day by day until he had no childhood left. He hadn’t been a child since New Year’s Day fourteen years ago.