To Believe Read online

  “I’m right here.” She stood, lifting her chin at the two men. “Thanks, Dr. Scopter. I appreciate your help.”

  The guy grinned. “You’re welcome.” His pager went off, and he let out a sigh. “Gotta run. Stay in touch.”

  “I will,” Jeremy said to his retreating back.

  “I told you this was a waste of time.” Trina picked up the ice pack the staff had provided for her and gently pressed it against the bump on her head. “I’m fine.”

  “Concussions are serious, but I guess your head is harder than I thought.” His tone was teasing, but he didn’t look repentant on bringing her all the way to Kalamazoo for nothing. “Let’s hit the road.”

  She dozed most of the way back to McNally Bay. When she opened her eyes, she frowned when she realized Jeremy had brought her to the B&B rather than to her apartment.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “I thought you might be hungry. Jemma saved some of the rehearsal dinner food for us.”

  She wasn’t really in the mood for company, but the idea of eating something that she didn’t have to cook had her pushing open her car door. Jeremy quickly came around to give her a hand.

  She felt self-conscious still wearing her wrinkled uniform but followed him inside the large yellow mansion.

  “Hi, Jeremy.” Jemma rushed in from the kitchen to greet them. “I’m so sorry to hear about your accident, Trina. I’m glad Jeremy was there to find you.”

  “I’m fine.” Trina smiled reassuringly. “I’m sorry to drop in on you like this, but Jeremy didn’t give me a choice.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Jemma’s smile was gracious. “We had chicken parmesan, and I don’t want the food to go to waste.”

  “Sounds great, thank you.” She followed Jemma into the kitchen, the enticing scent of oregano, basil, and tomato sauce making her stomach grumble with hunger. She took a seat at the picnic table and was disconcerted when Jeremy dropped down beside her.

  “How did the rehearsal go?” Jeremy asked as Jemma brought out two plates of food from the fridge and warmed them up in the microwave.

  “It was great.” Jemma blushed, her gaze darting outside to where Garth stood talking to Dalton. She set one warmed plate in front of Trina, the second in front of Jeremy. “It’s hard to believe we’re getting married tomorrow.”

  “You deserve to be happy, sis.”

  The interaction between Jeremy and Jemma reminded Trina of her relationship with Steve. It made her sad yet also brought back some nice memories.

  When her brother had been on drugs, she’d found it impossible to talk to him. To reason with him.

  She missed the guy he once was, over the addict he’d become.

  When they finished with their dinner, Trina rose to her feet, anxious to leave. “Thanks, Jemma. I think it’s time for me to head home.”

  “I think you should stay here.” Jeremy picked up her empty plate and stacked it on top of his while carrying them to the counter. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”

  “I’m fine.” Her tone was sharp with impatience. “I had the scan and was told I needed rest. Not watched overnight.”

  He turned to stare at her, but she held her ground. No way was she spending the night here in the B&B.

  She wanted, needed distance. Her mission was about eliminating drugs not having a family. Being around Jeremy and his sisters like this made her long for something she couldn’t have.

  Him.

  6

  Jeremy opened his eyes, confused and disoriented by the strange surroundings before remembering he’d fallen asleep on Trina’s sofa. He sat upright, scrubbing his hands over his rough face. He needed a shower, shave, coffee, and breakfast—in no particular order.

  Trina’s apartment was cozy and bright with bold colors and displayed dozens of childhood photos of her and Steve. He wondered if she kept them out as a reminder of her mission to eradicate any and all meth labs located within Clark County.

  When he’d driven Trina home the night before, he’d insisted on coming inside to make sure the place was safe. She’d huffed with annoyance but let him in, then bade him a curt goodnight as she disappeared into her bedroom.

  He knew she’d expected him to leave, but the idea of her being alone all night bothered him. So he’d texted a quick message to Jemma letting her know he was staying, while reassuring her he’d be back in the morning.

  No way could he miss his sister’s wedding. As it was, Jake had shown up just as he was leaving. Jesse lived in McNally Bay, so his getting to the ceremony wasn’t a problem. Jonas and Bella were arriving from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, first thing this morning as well.

  The McNally siblings would be together once again. Possibly for the last time, since Jesse and Carla had already tied the knot with very little fanfare.

  He wasn’t sure what Bella and Jonas’s plans were.

  He thought about sneaking out of the apartment, no need for Trina to realize he’d spent the night, but as he rose to his feet, the sound of a door opening accompanied by padded footsteps approaching made him wince.

  Too late.

  “Jeremy!” Trina’s voice was loud and appalled. “How did you get in?”

  He slowly turned to look at her. She was adorable with her tousled long red hair waving around her shoulders and her sleepy gray eyes. She wore fleece shorts topped with an oversized T-shirt, one he recognized as Steve’s favorite. Seeing her like this made him want to kiss her. Swallowing the urge, he slid his hands into his pockets and tried to smile. “I dropped you off last night, remember?”

  Her mouth gaped open. “You stayed all night?”

  “Don’t be mad, I just wanted to stay close in case you needed something.”

  “I am mad!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You had no right to make yourself at home in my apartment.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  She blew out a breath, and her temper evaporated. “Good thing I wasn’t armed, or I might have shot you.”

  “Good thing,” he agreed. “I hear getting shot isn’t much fun.” He offered a tentative smile. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine.” She shrugged, then added, “Better. My headache isn’t nearly as bad as it was yesterday.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Me, too.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Um, I’ll see you later, okay?”

  It was a nice way of telling him to get out, and he couldn’t blame her. He moved toward the door, then paused and glanced back at her. “If you’re hungry for breakfast, Jemma makes an amazing full Irish and sometimes offers her famous French toast with homemade brown Irish bread.”

  For a brief moment, he saw a flash of longing, but then it disappeared. “Oh, no thanks. I have things to do this morning.”

  “You’re supposed to rest, remember?”

  She stared at him in a way that told him he was wasting his breath.

  “You’ll still have time for errands. Might be best to start the day with a good meal.” He wasn’t sure why he was pushing the issue. He’d see Trina at the wedding later that afternoon. No reason to hound the woman. “Are you sure you won’t consider breakfast? According to the B and B reviews, Jemma’s cooking is amazing.”

  He thought she might be weakening, but then she frowned. “Jemma shouldn’t have to cook on her wedding day.”

  “Trust me, Jemma finds cooking and baking relaxing. Besides, Jazz doesn’t have the same touch in the kitchen. She’s better with a hammer.”

  Trina smiled. “I remember. She’s amazing.”

  “Please?” He gestured with one hand. “I don’t mind waiting until you get ready.”

  “Jeremy.” She sighed. “You are a pain in the you-know-what.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, you’re not the first to tell me that. Come on, you’re hungry, right? Jemma’s cooking is worth it.”

  “Fine.” When she caved, he wanted to do a fist pump but managed to hold back. “But it’s going to take me about th
irty minutes to shower and change.”

  “Not a problem.” He walked back over to the sofa. “Happy to wait.”

  “A super-duper pain in the you-know-what.” She turned and disappeared back into her bedroom.

  While waiting, he texted Jemma to let her know he was bringing Trina for breakfast. Thankfully, his sister didn’t seem to mind, just said she’d have a table for them when they arrived. He would rather have showered, shaved, and changed his clothes before sharing a meal with Trina, but at the moment, spending time with her was more important than anything else.

  A warning flickered in the back of his mind, but he ignored it.

  Trina emerged exactly thirty minutes later, looking so incredibly beautiful he almost swallowed his tongue. She wore calf-length pink slacks topped with a white blouse. Her long hair was still slightly damp but flowed loose around her face. He was ridiculously glad she hadn’t pulled it back from her face.

  “I need you to drop me off at headquarters so I can pick up my car.”

  “Uh, your car?” He did his best to focus on what she was saying. “Oh, yeah. Sure. If you think you’re okay to drive.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Trina looped a bright pink purse over her shoulder as she walked to the door. “Once I have my car, I’ll meet you at the B and B.”

  He nodded and followed her into the hallway, waiting as she took a moment to make sure the door was locked.

  There was a tiny part of him that didn’t want her to drive herself. What if she changed her mind? When he realized how ridiculous he was being, he shook it off.

  He was only staying through the weekend. And even if he wanted to stay a few extra days, Trina was working. She wasn’t about to take a few days off to entertain him.

  What would be the point? His life, the promise of a new promotion to resurrect his career, was in Lansing.

  Not McNally Bay.

  There wasn’t even a freaking hospital in McNally Bay. Just a clinic. As much as he missed being a surgeon, he was still a doctor.

  Trina didn’t say much during the short ride to the Sheriff’s Department headquarters. The instant he pulled into the parking lot she had her hand on the door.

  “Right here is fine, thanks.” She jumped out of the car. “See you later.”

  “At the B and B for breakfast, right?” He knew he sounded pathetic, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Yes, at the B and B for breakfast.” She slammed the door shut and made her way to an older model Toyota Prius located nearby.

  He drove back to the B&B, keeping an eye on the Prius in the rearview mirror.

  The relief he felt when she followed him all the way to the house was ridiculous. What was wrong with him? He’d never gotten so attached to a woman in such a short period of time.

  When he turned into the driveway, he didn’t see the Prius for almost a full minute. His heart thudded painfully, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the road.

  Finally, the little egg-shaped car pulled in. He let his pent-up breath out in a loud rush of relief.

  Yep. He was toast. Toast that was burned beyond recognition.

  And he had no idea what he was going to do about it.

  Trina knew she shouldn’t be here with Jeremy. Showing up to breakfast gave a sense of intimacy between them that would prove to be dangerous.

  She should be stomping mad. He’d slept on her sofa without her knowledge. Invaded her personal space. Pushed himself in where he didn’t belong.

  All because of a little headache? Yeah, right.

  Yet holding on to a grudge wasn’t her style. Her temper flared often but disappeared just as quickly. Her nature was such that she just couldn’t seem to hold on to her anger.

  Jeremy should be happy about that.

  Her stomach rumbled as she followed him inside. Okay, so maybe the main reason she’d agreed to come was because she’d been dying to taste one of Jemma McNally’s famous breakfasts. Everyone who stayed at the B&B raved about them, and breakfast happened to be her favorite meal of the day.

  Although the chicken parmesan the night before had been really good, too.

  “Hi, Jeremy, Trina.” Jazz greeted them cheerfully and gestured to a small table. “What can I get you to drink? Coffee or tea?”

  “Coffee,” they said in unison.

  Jazz’s smile widened before she turned to fetch a coffee pot. Cream and sugar were in the center of the table, but Trina noticed she and Jeremy both drank it black.

  Cops didn’t have time to be picky about what they drank, and she assumed surgeons were the same way.

  “What are you in the mood for?” Jazz asked. “The full Irish breakfast or Jemma’s French toast?”

  “I’d love to try the French toast,” Trina admitted. “I’ve been hearing about it for months now.”

  “And I’ll have the full Irish,” Jeremy added.

  “Coming right up.” Jazz went back into the kitchen, then returned a few moments later with rhubarb bread and blueberry muffins. “Enjoy.”

  The blueberry muffin melted in her mouth, and Trina was secretly glad the B&B only offered breakfasts to their guests and not to the general public as it would be difficult to find the willpower to stay away.

  Her facial expression must have given her away because Jeremy grinned. “I told you Jemma was amazing.”

  “No argument here.” She eyed the rhubarb bread, but then thought about the green sheath she was planning to wear to the wedding. Better not.

  “Nice view of Lake Michigan.” She gestured to the French doors that were open, allowing a nice breeze to come in through the screen doors. “I can see why this place is doing so well.”

  “My younger sisters are doing a great job.”

  “What was that I heard?” Jazz refilled their coffee mugs. “Something about how great we are?”

  Jeremy chuckled. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  “Too late.” Jazz took the coffee pot back to its warmer, then returned to their table. “Hey, Jeremy, we were hoping you could look into getting an autopsy report for us.”

  “Autopsy?” Trina raised her brows. “Who died?”

  “Lucy Tate. She was sixteen when she died, and that was over fifty years ago.” Jazz grimaced. “I’m not even sure how to get ahold of her autopsy after all this time. We were thinking that since you’re a physician, you might be able to get it with less hassle.”

  “Lucy Tate?” Trina echoed, trying to keep up with the discussion. “Why do you want to know how a sixteen-year-old died over fifty years ago?”

  “It’s kind of a long story, but it involves our father who apparently dated Lucy when they were young.” Jazz stood. “Let me get your breakfast, and I’ll fill you in.”

  Trina sipped her coffee, thinking about grumpy old Leon Tate and his daughter Mary. They didn’t cause trouble for the deputies, although they have been vocal about how much they despised the McNallys. Was Lucy’s death the root cause of their animosity?

  Their breakfast was served five minutes later. One taste and Trina quickly understood what all the fuss was about. The French toast was incredible, and Jeremy’s full Irish looked good, too.

  Jazz filled a mug of coffee for herself, then returned to their table. “What do you think, Jeremy? Can you get the autopsy?”

  “I can try, but they may not give it out to anyone who isn’t family. And I doubt they’re open on the weekends.”

  Jazz groaned. “I don’t suppose we can convince you to spend one more day in town before you head back to Lansing.”

  Trina flushed when Jeremy looked at her questioningly across the table. Was he asking her opinion? She dropped her gaze and took another bite of her meal.

  “Why not?” Jeremy shrugged. “I can find someone to cover for me in exchange for picking up a weekend shift. But why don’t you fill Trina in on the whole story, then let me know what you hope to learn from the autopsy?”

  Jazz glanced at Trina. “You remember the vandalism I experienced when I first arr
ived?” When she nodded, the McNally twin continued, “Well, we soon learned Leon and Mary Tate were holding a very significant grudge against the McNally family. We didn’t know why until Jemma found a letter in the attic written to a woman named Lucy. It was signed with the initial J, but we soon figured out that the person who wrote the letter was our father, Justin. We learned through Mrs. Cromwell and from Irene Templeton, Carla’s mother, that Justin and Lucy were young and in love when they were barely teenagers.”

  When Jazz paused to sip her coffee, Trina asked, “So what does that all have to do with Lucy’s death?”

  “I’m getting to it.” Jazz set her cup down, her eyes serious. “Seems Lucy died in a boating accident one night when she and four boys, including our father, were out on the lake. Our dad was driving the boat. There’s a rumor that she had a wound on her temple that may have occurred prior to her death, and well, there’s also a rumor that Lucy may have been pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?” Jeremy repeated in shock. “No way.”

  Jazz held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m not saying I believe it, but that’s the rumor. Lucy Tate and Irene Templeton were good friends. Irene claims that Lucy told her she was pregnant with Justin’s child.”

  “Wow.” Trina had never heard the story about Lucy Tate’s death, but then again, she hadn’t grown up in this area either. “But honestly, Jazz, even if all of that is true, what does it matter now? It won’t change the fact that Lucy is gone.”

  “No, it won’t,” Jazz agreed. “But knowing the truth might change the Tates’ view of the McNallys.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Jeremy advised. “Some people refuse to see what’s right in front of their faces.”

  “I agree with Jeremy,” Trina added. “Leon especially is old and set in his ways. I doubt anything will change his opinion of your family.”

  “Well, I want to know the truth and so does Jemma.” Jazz turned her wide green eyes on Jeremy. “Please?”

  “Yeah, sure. Why not? I’ll look into it.”

  “Thanks, Jeremy. You’re the best.” Jazz smiled.