The secrets she keeps, p.1
The Secrets She Keeps, page 1
THE SECRETS SHE KEEPS
FINLEY CREEK: ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
CALLE J. BROOKES
THE SECRETS SHE KEEPS
Copyright © 2024 by Calle J. Brookes
E ISBN: 978-1-940937-77-9
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact:
www.callejbrookes.com
Book and Cover design by C.J. BROOKES
First Edition: JULY2024
REED:
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
CONTENTS
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
Epilogue
Also by Calle J. Brookes
A not admitting of the wound
Until it grew so wide
That all my Life had entered it
And there were troughs beside -
A closing of the simple lid that opened to the sun
Until the tender Carpenter
Perpetual nail it down -
—EMILY DICKINSON
1
Powell Melissa Barratt was going to be the utter end of him. He knew it. And it would probably be tonight.
Texas State Police Detective Gunnar Erickson held his dance partner at a respectable distance and circled the dance floor of the Barratt-Finley Creek Hotel, careful not to fall flat on his face. Or choke on the woman’s cloying perfume that couldn’t disguise her thoroughly rotten soul.
He resisted the urge to tug at the bowtie around his neck. He was a man who had spent almost half his life working in law enforcement. Tuxedos weren’t ever going to be something he enjoyed wearing.
His date for the evening had ordered what he should wear. Told him where they were going. And why. Then Powell had looked at him with big brown eyes and a knowing smirk. Turning him on instantly—and not having a clue she was doing it.
Powell knew how he felt about these kinds of events.
The little demon was getting even with him for something. And she was running from him tonight. Even though she knew she had to stay where he could see her for this guard duty gig to work.
She’d almost been abducted by unknown assailants two weeks ago—now Gunnar was assigned to guard the woman he wanted more than words could say.
Even if she just kept trying to escape.
“You seem to be a million miles away, Detective Erickson,” his dance partner said. Gunnar tuned back in. He was dancing with the head of the Wichita Falls TSP at the moment. The head of the entire TSP, actually. He couldn’t afford to look like an ill-mannered imbecile. Even though she made his stomach turn. “Something you would care to share?”
He shook his head lightly. “Just a small problem with a woman. But we’ll work it out once I catch her again. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Powell looks beautiful this evening. Then again, Melissa Barratt’s daughter always does know how to look presentable. I understand her friend is recovering well after the attempted abduction?” The woman knew just about everything that was going on in the TSP. It was her job, after all. But Gunnar had learned long ago not to share secrets. It just wasn’t safe. “Dr. Harris, correct?”
“Yes. She’s back at work as of a few days ago.” Haldyn Harris, Powell’s bestie in the entire world, had been abducted during the attack Powell had escaped and then rescued eight hours later. She was the head of the Finley Creek forensics department. The entire TSP was in an uproar now. Gunnar wanted the assholes responsible—so he could tear them apart. He was a simple man at heart—women he cared about had been threatened. Hurt. He wasn’t going to forget that easily.
“Excellent. For one so young, Dr. Harris had done a remarkable job with the forensics department out of Finley Creek. So much so that I can eventually see offering her the position of head of our lab at Wichita Falls. It may be more in keeping with the level of her skills.”
Gunnar just nodded. Not that he could ever see Haldyn Harris leaving Finley Creek. “She’s very good at what she does.”
“From what I have seen, all of Major Crimes is good at what they do. How is Lieutenant Coleson adjusting to life in Finley Creek? I understand she recently returned from maternity leave. A girl this time, as well?” Commander Hamler was making idle chitchat, but he felt like he was in a damned interrogation.
As the suspect.
He concentrated on his boss’s words—while scanning the ballroom for a particular woman in a blue dress.
“Yes. Heather is now in charge of our new cold case division. Along with Detective Foster. Heather seems to be very good at solving mysteries from the past.” And Lieutenant Heather Coleson was a complete mystery herself.
He just kept that thought to himself. Heather was one of those women everyone noticed when she walked into the room. She just was.
But Gunnar—Gunnar belonged to the dark-haired woman in deep blue dancing nearby with a man he had never seen before.
He had found her.
Powell wasn’t escaping him tonight. She just wasn’t.
She wasn’t as in-your-face beautiful as Heather, but Powell fascinated Gunnar more than any other woman in existence. He was hers. She just needed to figure that out for herself. And claim him.
He was trying to be patient here.
“I am glad to hear that. I did not know Lieuten
Something about the woman’s tone stuck with him. This was one woman who made a man’s skin crawl. Talk about the creepies.
But she was the one who signed the entire stack of paychecks for the TSP. He would mind his manners. And…sanitize…when he got home. Just in case.
“As does her younger sister. A forensics technician, I believe?”
“Hope Coleson’s on the second shift crew. We are lucky to get her—from what I heard, she’s brilliant, especially at what she does. But very young, and very, very bouncy. A bit hyper, I’ve heard—but brilliant.”
“Age will settle that right out of her. Pity. Major Crimes is doing great things. It is a credit to the TSP.”
Yet this woman fought every request the Major Crimes division made. Gunnar wasn’t a fool—it wasn’t just because she had to be cautious with the budget. This woman didn’t like the men of Major Crimes. Not one bit. And she was attacking them with everything in her arsenal lately.
She didn’t give a damn that it negatively affected the TSP. She was a pit viper. No denying that.
The music ended. It had been some of the longest five minutes of his life. He bowed slightly, in a way he knew the ladies at these kinds of things liked, and stepped back. “I’m afraid my date for the evening is beckoning me, Commander Hamler. It has been a pleasure.”
He was such a liar. Gunnar didn’t give a damn.
Powell was doing no such thing—and Rhonda Hamler the viper knew it. Gunnar wasn’t a fool.
“It is always a pleasure to visit with one of the men who serve under me,” she told him. He knew the woman, old enough to be his mother, liked what she saw when she looked at him.
Gunnar had been told before he was an attractive man.
But talk about making a man’s skin crawl. A man would have to be seriously delusional to ever get near that woman’s bed.
“It was my honor. But I am all Powell’s tonight.” And every night going forward. But he kept that part to himself. Ms. Powell Melissa Barratt, Esq., was proving a bit difficult in regard to those plans. “She’s just playing hard to get. But…we’re in love. She’ll catch on eventually.”
“Enjoy yourselves. Time flies—and then one finds oneself alone. But then again, I believe you know that.”
It was a not-so-subtle dig, a reminder of the wife he had lost and buried years ago. And very nastily done. She liked what he looked like, but neither of them were fools.
Neither of them liked each other one bit.
Commander in Chief of the TSP Rhonda Hamler was a first-class bitch. Gunnar despised her and always had.
But she was a problem for another day.
Tonight, he had his woman to catch.
Gunnar stepped off the dance floor and searched the crowd. For a small woman with long dark brown hair and a dress cut far too low for his blood pressure.
Powell had to be around there somewhere.
He just needed to find her. Again.
She was fast when she wanted to be.
He would always look for one Powell Melissa Barratt, after all.
2
The woman next to her was the most annoying creature Powell had ever met. Normally, Powell tolerated her well enough. Most of the woman’s catty bitchiness was caused by cluelessness and ignorance rather than mean-spiritedness, but sometimes—
It was just a bit too much.
“Brianna, I have a lot on my mind tonight. Do you have anything important to say tonight? I put up with the petty grievances of the HOA during my time as president. It’s your turn now. But a bunch of kids’ bikes in their own front yard are not a big deal. The dozen potholes on Tucker Avenue, however, big issue.”
“It’s not just that they left them out there. It’s that they have a clear disregard for the rules. Rules that were voted in for everyone years ago. Why should one family be so exempt? Because they are related to the governor? Well, how is that right?”
On and on and on.
Brianna Claireson, president of the Hughes Heights HOA, had a major problem with one particular family. One. They were all Brianna talked about. A family that had really done nothing to her that Powell could find at all.
Powell had checked—the first time Brianna had complained about them.
Brianna had been going on about them for months. To Powell. Whenever she caught Powell. Every single time she caught Powell. It was driving Powell insane. “Brianna, find a way to handle it yourself.”
Rude of her, but Brianna never stopped.
Powell had a much bigger problem to worry about.
He was coming right at her now. Six foot five, broad-shouldered, incredibly fit and toned, blond and blue-eyed, he was the most beautiful man Powell had ever seen.
Gunnar was the prototype for a Viking god. She and her friends had agreed on that fact many, many months ago. Thor had nothing on Gunnar Erickson.
That he was following her everywhere she went was driving her crazy.
Reminding her of that night. The one that had changed everything.
Powell’s hand covered her stomach instinctively. Where Gunnar Erickson’s baby grew. And was definitely making her regret the spicy little snacks she’d eaten a few minutes ago.
She was seriously in trouble now.
Running home to her mother and father probably wasn’t a viable option. Neither was hiding behind her three older brothers’ extra-broad shoulders and grumpy attitudes. Tempting but not a viable option. Yet.
She was holding those three in reserve. Just in case.
“Are you going to be sick?” Brianna asked, her disgust evident as she looked at Powell’s hand. “Are you contagious or something? You probably should have stayed home if you are sick.”
Brianna stepped back. Fast. Brianna was a major germaphobe.
Powell almost sneezed. Just for the fun of it. But her mother had raised her to behave better than that. A bit better than that, anyway.
“Just a flare of that ulcer I had a few years ago.” After a particularly nasty allergic reaction to a prescription medication, she’d struggled off and on with an ulcer caused by the steroids and anti-inflammatories she’d been given.
It was an excuse.
Her real problem was obviously looking for her right now.
“Look, Brianna, have you even bothered to talk to them? See for yourself that they are reasonable, friendly, nice people who you might just like?” Not very likely. Powell suspected she knew exactly what Brianna’s problem was—the family in question was the Colesons, after all.
Colesons had reputations.
A notorious family related to the governor’s wife and Davis Lucas, one of the richest men on the planet. The Colesons living in Hughes Heights were ten women and three children. Ten very attractive, single women ranging from around eighteen all the way up to around fifty.
Colesons got attention everywhere they went, thanks to being a part of the worst criminal case in Finley Creek, Texas history.
Once they had that attention—the Coleson women kept it.
“Why would I want to talk to them? That mean cop one threatened to bite me for everyone to see!”
“Reporting them to the police for running a brothel in Hughes Heights might have been why.” The Colesons had responded with a dozen clips of music videos—sent to everyone on the HOA mailing list. On Christmas Day. It had featured all the adult Coleson women dressed very suggestively, singing and dancing in ways guaranteed to get noticed. Songs about life in the brothel.
It had been particularly inventive and funny. One of the Colesons had actually written the songs. Another had done all the videography. Others had done the editing and making the costumes. They were very talented women. Cara Coleson worked as an intern at Powell’s family’s law firm. Cara had told her those videos were several years old. Her family had just sent them because of the whole brothel thing.
Brianna had always had problems with other women she saw as competition.
In the intro, Heather Coleson had threatened to bite Brianna for real if Brianna got too close again. Everyone in Hughes Heights had been talking about it for weeks. Laughing. Brianna was not well liked.
“Just…try leaving them alone for a few months. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am trying to avoid that gorgeous Viking man right there, and he is getting way too close. Go find your own boy toy to play with. I’m busy avoiding a Viking tonight.”
“You can be so weird. My date is from Major Crimes, too, you know. His mother is the head of the Wichita Falls post. He’ll run the entire TSP someday. He’ll be Gunnar’s boss eventually.” Brianna sniffed haughtily when she said it. While eyeing Gunnar like the beautiful man he was. Powell almost laughed at what Brianna had said.
