Chapter Five

If there is such a thing as a perfect day for a funeral, this is it, Lou Edwards thought as he gazed out of his bedroom window at the wine country. The air was clear and cool, without the usual light breeze that ruffled the grape leaves. The sun sparkled in the bluest sky he could remember. Almost overnight, all the leaves on the trees had turned to gold and amber and rust, a startling contrast to the rolling hills laced with leafy green grapevines.

He forced himself to put on the jacket to his suit. God, he hated funerals. No matter how beautiful the weather, nothing could compensate for saying a final farewell to someone you loved with all your heart. On the day he’d said good-bye to Ellie, it had been pouring rain so hard the earth turned to mud as they’d shoveled dirt around the coffin. With the wind blowing sheets of rain sideways, he’d stood, holding Tori’s small hand in his. Although it had been over twenty years ago, he remembered every detail with painful clarity.

Since his wife’s death, he’d done his best to avoid funerals, but he thought Tori might need him. Late last night she’d knocked on his door with the news about the inheritance. He couldn’t understand why she hadn’t told Elliott that his brother was staying at the Silver Moon.

Was something going on between his daughter and Brody?

All through dinner, he’d noticed the way Brody covertly watched Tori. The man’s face was an inscrutable mask, but as Brody gazed at Tori the air between them changed subtly, becoming charged. He suspected Brody found Tori every bit as attractive as his brother did—maybe even more. He hadn’t said anything when Tori informed Brody she was engaged to Elliott Hawke, but Lou’s reporter’s sixth sense told him Brody wasn’t pleased.

Lou instinctively liked Brody, although he would be a difficult man to really get to know. There was something guarded about him, and Lou suspected it went beyond his antiterrorist training.

They’d asked Brody about his youth, and he’d dodged the question, saying he’d grown up in a series of small towns in the South. He didn’t tell them much about his mother except that she had worked as a waitress, and she’d insisted his father was dead.

“Interesting,” Lou muttered to himself as he walked out of his suite. Both parents had told the same story when they split up the twins. What really happened?

When Moxie had called and asked him to investigate Giancarlo’s death, Lou had assumed it would be a simple story, but now it appeared to be much more complicated, much more interesting. He envisioned a series piece about a wealthy, larger-than-life family with a secret past.

Going down the stairs, he heard Tori’s voice. “I don’t think this is a good idea. You’ll upset the family.”

“I’ll upset them no matter when they meet me.”

Tori and Brody were talking. He picked up on the anxious note in his daughter’s voice and knew she was concerned about not having told Elliot that Brody was here.

“What’s going on?” he asked when he reached the landing and could see down the stairs into the foyer where Tori and Brody were standing.

“I’m going to the funeral,” Brody informed him.

“It’ll upset everyone.” Tori looked at Lou for help.

He sympathized with his daughter’s predicament, but Brody certainly had a right to be at his father’s funeral. “They know about Brody, so it won’t be a total surprise.”

“Who told them?” Brody asked.

“I’m not sure,” he hedged, not wanting to mention the inheritance. It wasn’t his place. Let the attorney or Elliott explain the will.

“Let’s all go together,” Lou said, thinking this would be easier on Brody than walking into the lion’s den alone.

Brody sat in the back seat of Lou’s Beamer, his long legs bent at the knees, and stared at Tori’s back. She’d piled her blond hair onto the top of her head, but a few long tendrils had escaped and framed her face. Sexy as hell.

She was dynamite in black. Instead of the baggy number she’d been in yesterday, Tori wore a black suit with a slim skirt that showed off her legs and cute butt. Not only was Tori sexy, but she had brains, too. At dinner last night, he’d discovered how intelligent she was.

And she was engaged to his brother.

It sucked, yet there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. What did he care? He’d come to get some answers about his past. He certainly didn’t want a permanent relationship, and that’s exactly what a classy woman like Victoria Anderson would want.

Something his rich twin brother could give her.

Why the hell was he thinking about sex, anyway? He should be mourning the loss of his father, but he couldn’t quite muster an honest emotion other than suspicion. Brody was convinced his father had contacted him because his life was in danger.

“What do you like best about being a SEAL?” Lou asked, breaking into Brody’s thoughts, and he realized it had been some time since anyone had spoken.

“The rush you get when you’re in danger,” he said without hesitation. “My last mission was a bore. Nothing happened. I wasn’t in danger one second.”

Brody watched Lou as he glanced at his daughter. Brody was directly behind Tori, so he couldn’t see her face. It occurred to him that she might think living dangerously was weird. Okay, it was, but he was just being truthful.

“Do you think that’s strange, Tori?” Brody asked.

Lou looked at her again, and Brody could sense something going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

“No,” she responded quietly. “It’s not strange, but it is a good way to get yourself killed.”

“There’s always that chance. It’s what makes my job challenging. Don’t you like to take a risk now and then?”

“No. I prefer to play it safe.”

Again, her father glanced at Tori, then had to brake hard to make a left turn down a side street. Lou’s very protective of her, he decided. Nice. He’d liked the guy from the moment they’d shaken hands, but this made him respect Lou more.

“I guess we’d better park here,” Lou said, pulling the Beamer alongside the curb. “The parking lot will be full.”

Brody jumped out and opened the door for Tori. She hesitated a second, gazing up at him with those startlingly green eyes. A raw longing choked him, a reminder of what he was and who she was.

And what he could never have.

Her expression told him that he had disappointed her. So he was a daredevil and he admitted it. There was nothing he could do about it.

“We’ll need sunglasses,” Lou said from the other side of the car. “It’s a graveside service. There are too many people to use the cathedral.”

Brody pulled his mirrored aviator sunglasses from the inside pocket of his jacket. It was the only suit he owned, a charcoal gray one he’d bought at a discount store. He recalled the picture of his brother in what had to have been a custom-made suit.

Aw, hell, what did he care?

With Tori between them, they walked down the narrow street toward a mission-style cathedral. A crowd had gathered at the side of the building to sign a guest book, then file through an ivy-covered archway.

“Looks like good old dad had lots of friends,” Brody said.

“The wine country is a tight-knit community,” Lou answered. “We all know each other and support each other through any crisis.”

There it was again, Brody decided. Neither father nor daughter had seemed to want to talk about Gian Hawke last night, and now Lou once again shifted the focus of the conversation away from anything personal about Brody’s father.

“Tell me honestly. What was my father like?”

Lou looked at Tori for a second. Since they were both wearing shades, it was impossible to interpret their expressions, but he realized they had a way of communicating silently. Funny, he’d been close to his mother, yet they hadn’t had this type of connection. He’d never known what she was thinking.

“Gian was a difficult man. He made lots of enemies,” Lou said.

“Would any of them want to kill him?”

“Possibly,” Lou admitted. “Let’s see what the coroner’s report says before we jump to any conclusions.”

What would some bureaucrat’s report matter? His father hadn’t given a damned about Brody, or he wouldn’t have allowed him to live at the poverty line while his twin brother grew up surrounded by luxury. His father must have been mighty scared to send for him after all these years.

Any further discussion about his father stopped when they approached the group. Mistaking him for Elliott, people greeted Brody. “Sorry about your father. Our prayers are with you and your family, Elliott.”

The mob parted as they walked by the condolence book and through the archway into a rose garden where even more people were gathered. Heads turned, and Brody stifled the urge to loosen the tie he had so carefully knotted earlier. Again, the mourners mumbled their condolences as Lou led the way through the gathering to the far side.

The rose garden sloped gently down to a cemetery that flowed through the undulating hills like a river of crosses, the morning sunlight reflecting off the headstones with a slight glare. At the bottom of the embankment beside a freshly dug grave a group was assembled under an ancient oak with gnarled limbs that stretched heavenward like outstretched arms.

The family.

His family.

The detachment he’d always felt about family wavered. He stared at them, wondering what they were like, indulging himself for a moment. They were all tall and dark-haired.

“Richer than sin,” he muttered under his breath. Even at this distance, he noticed the glint of diamond earrings, the glitter of gold Rolex watches, and the creamy white pearls that set off expensive black dresses.

Well, Brody, what did you expect? he asked himself. An oddly primitive warning sounded in his brain. These were not his type of people.

Don’t get involved.

He had his own life, Brody assured himself. A life full of excitement and danger. A life he loved.

Lou halted at the top of the rise, seemingly uncertain about what to do. Brody scanned the group again, looking for his brother. He spotted his twin in a heartbeat.

Elliott had been bent over, talking to a lady, but now he stood up beside the woman whose head was draped in a black veil. Even though her face was covered, Brody could tell she was sobbing uncontrollably. She was older, judging by her silver-white hair visible through the veil.

As if sensing someone watching him, Brody’s brother glanced up. Then froze. Brody stared back and the air siphoned from his lungs in a single breath. It seemed as if he were gazing at his reflection in a mirror.

Brody commanded his brain to assess the situation with professional distance. He surveyed his brother the way he would a suspected terrorist.

Elliott Hawke was an impressive man. Tall. Dark hair expertly cut. A square jaw and a cleft chin.

Not anyone Brody would have looked at twice had he been searching for terrorists. The man stood out too much. Terrorists sought to blend in and disappear.

His brother.

The thought caused a strange tug deep in his chest. His mother had said he was an only child, so he’d gone through life believing he was one-of-a-kind.

Now he knew the truth.

Someone existed who looked exactly like him. Exactly. The similarity ended there, he decided. Elliott was a rich man’s son while Brody was a back alley kid.

Elliott squinted into the sunlight at the trio on the rise above his father’s gravesite. It couldn’t be! Yet it was—his brother.

Son of a bitch! What had he done to deserve this? On today of all days why had his brother chosen to appear—when he was least wanted? And what was he doing with Tori?

The thought sparked a sudden upwelling of an emotion Elliott had rarely experienced. Jealously. Women flocked to him. He had no need to chase any woman, yet Tori had refused to set a wedding date. Now she appeared at his father’s funeral with his long lost—and unwanted—brother.

Christ! What next?

“Gian, no, no, no,” sobbed his aunt. His father’s twin sister had adored her brother, and they’d shared a special bond. Despite this, Elliott wondered how much was real and how much Gina did to get attention.

Elliott looked to his uncle for help, and Uncle Tito heaved a sigh. Elliott couldn’t be certain if his uncle was sad or frustrated with his wife. Being Gian Hawke’s brother-in-law had never been easy. Gina Hawke worshipped her twin brother and incessantly criticized her husband.

Uncle Tito will have to learn to deal with her, Elliott told himself as he walked across the grass toward the brother he’d never met. He mentally braced himself, reviewing the decision he’d made just before dawn. Keep his anger hidden. Wait and see what Brody intended to do about his inheritance.

With luck, Elliott could buy out the brother who’d appeared out of the blue. He’d thought about it all night, and he had several investors in mind. The wine country was a hot area for the Silicon Valley set who’d become billionaires overnight. He despised the slick wineries they’d created, as if the art of fine wine could be duplicated like a computer chip, but he had no choice except to turn to them for financing.

He had to get rid of his brother.

Taking Silicon Valley partners was preferable to selling out to the Corelli brothers, he decided. They’d been pressing hard and taking advantage of the temporary problems Hawke’s Landing was experiencing.

Elliott had worked his whole life to inherit Hawke’s Landing, and no tall dark stranger of a brother was taking it away from him. Careful not to step on any graves, he walked up the rise, his eyes on his brother. From behind his dark glasses, Elliott scrutinized his twin.

It was eerie how much they looked alike. The fine hairs across the back of his neck prickled upward. Not only did they look exactly alike, they were wearing the same type of sunglasses. While most men preferred the narrow wrap style glasses, Elliott and his brother both had on aviator style sunglasses with mirrored lenses.

Elliott didn’t know why he gravitated toward this particular type of sunglasses, but he did. Apparently, his brother had the same preference for military-style shades, and he seemed to have the same taste in women.

His Johnny-come-lately twin was standing much too close to Tori. Elliott swallowed hard to keep his anger in check. His long-lost brother might steal half of what was rightfully his, but Brody wasn’t taking the woman Elliott intended to marry.