His Brother's Bride

“Of course.”

“Then as of now, we’re a team.”

And suddenly, as much as she’d been seeking just that response, Laurel had doubts.

She truly wanted to do whatever she could to help find William Byrd. And though she didn’t really understand why, she felt compelled to spend this time with Scott, too.

Was it to finally put the past to rest?

Or because she couldn’t let go?

It was the confusion of seeing Scott again that made her unsure, and a little afraid, of this temporary commitment.

“So...” Scott took a seat at the thick oak game table on one side of the room, pushing out a chair for Laurel with his foot. “Let’s get started with you telling me what you know. I’ll fill you in and then we’ll go take a look at Byrd’s room again.”

Appreciating his professional air, Laurel pushed away from the piano and moved over to join Scott, more comfortable with herself as she slipped into a professional role herself.

She told him what she knew, which wasn’t much. She hadn’t seen Byrd since breakfast the morning before.

“I asked the others before they left this morning if they’d seen him, but no one had,” she told him.

“You’ve already questioned the other guests?”

Laurel nodded. “I wondered why he wasn’t at breakfast, and I guess it’s just habit to ask questions when something’s afoot.”

“This is great.” Scott jotted something in his notebook. “What else did they say?”

“Not a whole lot.” There were no real clues as far as Laurel could tell. “We all went to the barbecue in town yesterday. No one remembered seeing William there.”

“There’s been no report of any accidents in the area, and Clint said he’d checked the local hospitals just in case.”

“Something unexpected had to have happened.” Laurel said aloud what she’d been thinking all morning. “He was perfectly relaxed at breakfast yesterday—a weekend vacationer like the rest of us. William had a great sense of humor, dry, witty. He kept us all laughing. He was like everyone’s favorite uncle.” She paused, thinking about the still-commanding figure of the older man. Though mostly bald, he’d been in great shape, muscular and trim. “I know he was planning to attend the barbecue,” she continued, “because he told me he’d see me there....”

While Scott scribbled in his notebook, Laurel itched to get to her tape recorder. And then it dawned on her that this situation was far different from the stuff she normally did. Usually the subject of a story agreed to interviews before she ever began. She probably wasn’t going to be able to have her recorder on during an unofficial police investigation.

“Seems kind of silly for us both to be taking notes as we do this,” she said aloud, remembering what a meticulous note-taker Scott was in school. Notes that she’d borrowed, along with most of his friends. Though never, as far as she knew, did he use them himself. “Do you mind, if I do end up doing a story, if I borrow your notes?”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back. And nothing made sense for a second.

“So,” Scott said, maybe a little more loudly than necessary, “did Byrd give any sign of being preoccupied? Was he wearing wrinkled or mismatched clothes, losing track of the conversation, lapsing off into silence?”

Shaking her head, Laurel clasped her hands and rested them on top of the table. “Nope. He was meticulous. In his dress and in his manners.”

Scott glanced up from his notebook, catching her off guard. The instant intensity that flared between them shook her. Badly.

“Shall we go up and take a look?”

Laurel nodded, almost pathetic in her relief as he broke the spell. Dazed, she followed Scott upstairs to William Byrd’s room.

“We’re going to find William,” she told Scott, forcing her mind to concentrate on the only thing that mattered. “And he’s going to be just fine.”

And because she was so sure of that, she felt a bit uncomfortable as Scott worked the key in the sticky lock until he got it to open. She felt she was invading William’s privacy. But she was also very eager to get inside and see what she could find out about his disappearance.

Somehow William’s safe return had linked itself in Laurel’s mind to her own ability to move on with her life. As though in order for her trip back to Cooper’s Corner to be successful on one level, it had to be successful on all levels. If she couldn’t help William, she couldn’t hope to help herself. It was illogical, but very real just the same.

“I did a surface scan when I was up here earlier,” Scott told her as they entered the room. “This time I want to know about the dust particles in the corners.”