Best of 2017

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m not a big fan of visitors.”

“Water is wet.” I rolled my eyes. “This will be great. It can’t be worse than what you make, right?”

“You have a point. You already eat?”

“Yep.”

“Plans for the rest of the day? More snooping?” He stuffed his hands into his jeans, the movement bringing my gaze down to his belt and lower.

I snapped back up to meet his eyes, but his smirk told me I’d already been caught. “I’m all snooped out. If you don’t mind, I’d like to look at some cat videos—very important—and read the news on your laptop.”

“By all means.” He gestured toward the living room.

“Okay.” I turned and step-hopped toward it.

His hand was at my lower back in a moment.

“I can manage.” I didn’t move away.

“I know you can, but you shouldn’t.” He stood close enough that I could feel his body heat, smell his woodsy scent. My bed still smelled like him. “May I?” His gaze landed on my lips.

My nipples hardened and tingled. “Yes.” Permission. But what was I allowing him to do? Just help me, right?

He wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted. We walked to the living room, our bodies pressed against each other and my feet barely touching the ground.

“Thanks.” I held onto his neck as he lowered me to the couch.

“You’re welcome.”

I dropped my arms and stared up at him before letting my gaze trace down the buttons of his polo, past the lean stomach, and down to the bulge in his pants. Jesus.

He turned and grabbed his laptop from the nearby ottoman, then handed it to me. “Try to keep the porn to a minimum. Viruses and all.”

“No promises.” I took the computer and perched it on my lap.

He hesitated, as if wanting to say more, then tightened his jaw and strode away toward the kitchen.

I flipped open the laptop and searched in my pocket for the memory card I’d found in Lillian’s closet. The sound of a plate hitting the countertop reassured me that I was safe, but I turned on the sofa so I faced the door. If Garrett walked in, I’d have plenty of time to minimize whatever was on the memory card before he got around to see the screen. I didn’t know what I would find, and I wasn’t ready to share it all with him. Not yet.

With shaking fingers, I snugged the card into the small opening along the left side of the laptop. A file popped open on the screen. I clicked inside and found about twenty folders, each one named by date, which I assumed corresponded with the dates on which the photos were taken.

I opened the first folder and found five images. The first was of the front of the Browerton grocery store, the next four were photos of workers. The next folder had more of the same, but with images of paychecks. I sped through the next few file folders, most of them pertaining to Lillian’s investigation and eventual news article on the discrimination.

The next folder, dated a little over two years ago, held something that I never thought I’d see. Dad lying on a picnic blanket on a sunny patch of grass, a smile on his face and his Braves hat shading his eyes. Three more photos, then a selfie with both of their faces pressed together. Tears threatened as I studied them. My father’s crooked smile, the familiar wrinkles, and the mischief that always sparkled in his eyes. Lillian cut her gaze toward Dad, a smile along her reddened lips. Her long hair cascaded around her shoulders, and I could see why she won every beauty pageant she entered.

Footsteps in the hallway forced me to minimize the window and click on the Internet.

“Why did we agree to this cooking scheme when we could have just had Bonnie keep bringing us food?” Garrett leaned on the doorframe and rubbed his stomach. “I’m certain nothing I can make will beat those grits.”

“I know right?” I answered so quickly all my words ran together.

Garrett cocked his head to the side. “You all right, Red?”

“I’m fine.” I fidgeted, making sure to wince when I moved my leg. “It’s just sore. I think I’ll go get some rest once I’m done with the kitten of the week video.”

He didn’t seem convinced and ran a hand through his dark hair as he held my gaze. “If you say so.”

“Yep.”

“Call when you want to go up, okay? Can’t have you falling down the stairs. Insurance rates, you know?”

I snorted. “Right, insurance rates.”

He shot me a smile, one made of some sort of heart-melting material. “I’ll get back to work, but you can”—He shoved his hands in his jean pockets and inspected his feet—“you can come by if you want, or like I said, just tell me when you want to go up.”

Heart definitely thawing. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” He walked out, the sound of his footsteps receding as I stared after him.

He had a sweet streak. Who knew? I adjusted myself on the leather couch, the cushions squeaking a little as I lifted my leg onto the ottoman.

I opened the file again and scrolled to where I left off. Instead of getting snared in the picnic photo again, I skipped to the next date.

Woods. I zoomed in on the photos but wasn’t sure what I was looking at other than woods similar to those around Blackwood. I clicked to the next and then the next. Ten photos in, and I couldn’t tell what the hell Lillian thought she’d captured on the photos. But I did find a pic with my father’s hand and wristwatch in the side of the frame. Whatever she’d been looking for, Dad had been with her.

I clicked through the rest, but I saw nothing that would help me figure out what happened. Deciding I had to have missed something, I started over, scrutinizing each photo for any missing clue. Other than a hunter’s mark on a few of the trees—a circle with a squiggly slash through the center done in orange spray paint, I found nothing. Shit. I closed out of the file and pressed my hand to the top of the monitor. I’d almost closed the laptop when a thought hit me.

I c

licked on the memory card again. After a right click and changing some settings, I had the computer show me all hidden files.

“Bingo,” I muttered under my breath when a new file emerged, the last date of all the folders. I clicked inside and saw one file.

Click-click. The image filled the screen, and my breath stopped. Another shot of woods, the sun barely peeking between the branches. But this one had much more; a shallow grave filled with what looked like at least three bodies unearthed. To the side of the pit, my father leaned on a shovel and stared just above the camera with a look that turned my blood to ice. The sparkle had left his eyes and in its place—raw horror.

“Red?”

I yelped and slapped the laptop closed.

Garrett threw his hands up. “Damn.” He walked in and sat next to me as I furtively freed the memory card and stowed it in my pocket. “Cat videos getting to you?”

I swallowed and tried to play it off. “Just tired, I think. You scared me; that’s all.”

“You’re acting sort of…” He scrubbed his beard, the rasp reminding me of how it felt against my thighs. “Weird. Even for you.”

“Even for me?” I tittered out a fake laugh and kept my hand on the top of the computer.

“Yeah, especially what you just did right then. That bizarre laugh.” He stared at me. Could he hear my heart beating faster and faster?

He glanced to the computer. “Are you going to share?”

I wanted to trust him. My instincts told me to open the computer and show him what I’d found, but my mind was still on the fence.

I hedged. “Maybe, but not right now.”

“Fine. Keep your secrets.” He stood and sighed.

I took his hand.

He couldn’t have looked more surprised if I’d smacked him.

“Just give me some time, okay? Just some time? Please?”

His demeanor softened, and he squeezed my fingers. “You know I can’t say no when you use that word.”

I smirked up at him. “I play to my strengths.”

“I’ve noticed.” He helped me up and held my waist as I hopped to the stairs.