“Yes, you did warn her didn’t you?” Moriah cried out then, the weapon turning, centering on Richard. “You’ve tried to turn her against me the whole time, didn’t you, Richard? The poor little crazy girl. You wanted her to leave me all alone. You didn’t want us to be happy.”

“For God’s sake,” Richard muttered, his face slack now with disbelief. “Put the gun down, Moriah.”

Cam eased himself in position in the doorway behind Moriah. Slipping through the house to the far door hadn’t been easy. The apartment was laid out with a series of short hallways, and several crossed each other.

He held his gun at his thigh as he got into position to get a clear sight of the young woman. The psychiatrist’s report was right; Moriah Brockheim wasn’t completely sane. He could hear it in her voice now.

He couldn’t let himself think about the information his brother had heard. Ian and the detective would be in position at the back now, and easing toward the door. He had to take her down before they came in, before they heard as well.

“Moriah, dear, please put the gun down.” Annalee’s voice was softer, gentler than Jaci could have imagined it would be. “We can discuss this, darling. Jaci is very reasonable, and you know how nice I truly am. Once she sees this, she won’t tell a soul. We can convince her.”

There was pain and desperation in Annalee’s voice, in the sorrow in her face and in her eyes. She truly cared for Moriah. Cared for her. Not as a toy, but as a child, as the little girl Jaci had sometimes glimpsed in the other woman.

“We can?” Moriah whispered hopefully as she turned to Annalee. “Will you tell them, Anna? Will you tell them that I belong with you? Father keeps fighting me. And that stupid psychiatrist won’t listen.”

“You know I will, sweetheart,” Annalee promised, sincerity as thick as the fear in her eyes now, as she held her arms out to Moriah. “Come here, baby. Let Aunt Anna make it all better. We’ll go fix chocolate and talk with Jaci about this, shall we?”

Cam let his eyes flicker over the room, and a second before Richard moved, he knew what was coming. The congressman’s muscles bunched and he jumped for the gun.

The soft pop of the gun sent Richard to the floor, his hand clamping over his chest as a glaze of red spilled over his fingers.

Annalee screamed and Moriah turned to Jaci as Cam jumped. He knocked Moriah to the side, grabbed Jaci, and rolled with her, ignoring her cry, pushing her behind the desk as he turned back to the room.

“So protective,” Moriah sneered as she regained her footing, turning the gun on him. “You’re a gigolo. A man-whore. Your aunt sold your body to dirty old women and you let her. You think I’ll let you take Anna from me? You’re nasty and brutal and mean. Chase deserves a better brother than you. He always has.” She screamed the words, the gun lifting as Cam stared at her in horror.

He had his gun in his hand, staring back at her, seeing the young woman his brother had been so fond of over the years. The woman, so fragile, already broken, her eyes maniacal as her finger tightened on the trigger.

He lowered the gun to shoot to wound. It was a risk. Crazy was fucking crazy, and he knew she would fight to the death to pull that trigger.

As Cam aimed, someone else fired. He watched in shock at the neat, dark little hole in the middle of her forehead, the almost peaceful expression that came over her face before she slumped slowly, gracefully to the carpet beneath her. The pretty white-and-gold dress she wore flowed around her bare legs, her hair feathered over her pale face, and the scent of death and Annalee’s quiet sobs filled the air.

Detective Allen was yelling into the radio for backup and the paramedics that were already standing by as he and Ian rushed into the room. The congressman was gasping for breath, and behind Cam Jaci had her forehead against his back. He felt her trembling, a soft sob whispering from her lips as he turned and stared at Chase.

His brother lowered his handgun slowly before turning to Cam, his eyes dark, fury burning hot and bright inside him. And he felt his brother then. Felt that bond tighten as his twin’s rage turned on him.

“Your shot went wild, Chase.” Detective Allen, portly, breathing heavy, shook his head as he stepped into the room, his dark brown gaze heavy with sympathy as he stared around the room.

“No it didn’t, Carl,” Chase said tonelessly.

“Trust me.” Carl’s voice hardened. “My shot took her. Yours went wild.”

Cam rose from the floor, pulling Jaci with him, staring at his brother in shock as Chase moved to him.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut, both of you,” Chase hissed to Cam and Jaci. “The Robertses can protect themselves. Our pasts stay in the fucking past. Do you understand me?”

Cam shook his head slowly as he stared at his brother’s ravaged expression. “What have you done, Chase?”

To himself. He could see it in his brother now, the grief, the pain. He had killed Moriah Brockheim. He’d had no choice. Cam would have taken the bullet and prayed for the best, rather than killing a woman that he knew his brother felt affection for.

“I showed her mercy,” Chase bit off, his voice icy. “Start praying I show it to you later.”

Jaci moved around Cam as the detective moved to him, her entire body shaking while she moved across the room to Annalee Roberts, where she knelt silently beside Moriah.

Chase was next to Richard, applying a compress to the wound as they awaited the paramedics.

“Bullet was deflected by the ribs. Broken rib, bullet passed out the side,” Chase was muttering as Cam caught Jaci’s arm, pulling her back to him.

“Don’t.” She shook her head, her voice hoarse as she stared up at him. “I have to do something.”

His eyes were icy. They had been icy, cold, without emotion from the moment she had glimpsed them when he threw himself into the room.

He nodded sharply and let her move slowly away from him.

“She wasn’t a b-bad kid,” Annalee whispered brokenly. “Even as a b-baby. E-even then, she was so fragile.” She smoothed back the long, silky hair from Moriah’s face. “Her mother is my stepsister. Margaret is a good woman. This will break her.”

Annalee’s shoulders heaved as Jaci slowly, hesitantly wrapped her arms around her. Surprisingly, Annalee let her comfort her, and Jaci couldn’t explain why she tried, or why the other woman would care. But as she sobbed in Jaci’s arms, Jaci had to admit that part of this was her own fault. She had to take the blame for it. She should have told Cam everything. She should have stood her ground, but allowed him to help.

“All secrets are safe here.” Annalee lifted her face, her features somehow softer, move vulnerable than they had ever been. “No matter what happens, you’ll suffer no more by our hands.” She turned back to Moriah and convulsed in sobs again. “This was my fault. Sweet God. So much my fault.” She leaned over the girl then, pulling herself from Jaci’s arms as she embraced Moriah and sobbed in grief.

“Come on.” Cam knelt beside her, watching the other two women with those cold, cold eyes of his. “I’m slipping you out of here. Detective Allen will confer with Roberts before the journalists get here. We don’t need to be here.”

She shook her head as he drew her to her feet. “But her parents . . .”

“Don’t need to know you were here. Now, Jaci. We go now.”

He pulled her to her feet and moved quickly to the door of the apartment.

Chase was waiting outside and gave an abrupt nod as they moved to the door.

“Take her down the back stairs. Matthew is waiting for you at the back door. Get the hell out of here.”

Jaci moved on autopilot. She could feel the tears still running from her eyes, her body shuddering with shock, disbelief, and so many fears.

She couldn’t seem to grasp everything she had heard, everything she had seen. It had happened too fast. It was still happening too fast. Cam’s arm was around her waist, pulling her down the stairs to the back entrance and into the limo waiting patiently in the alley.

Matthew was pulling away from the building even before Cam closed the door behind himself. He sat back in the seat and stared across the short distance to her. His face was still hard. His eyes still icy.

Jaci wrapped her arms around her stomach and bent forward, sobs tearing from her. She couldn’t handle it. She couldn’t imagine ever being the same again, and the terror wouldn’t abate.

“Come here, baby.” Cam’s voice softened, but only marginally.

But his arms wrapped around her and he was drawing her to his lap, wrapping her in his warmth, enclosing her in the protection of his arms.

And all she could do was cry harder. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was, how she had never known Moriah was Annalee’s niece. No one she had known had seemed to know. She hadn’t heard so much as a breath of that information. She hadn’t known.

“You couldn’t have known.” He sighed against her hair, as she realized she must have been sobbing her thoughts. “Very few people did know, Jaci. Stepsisters. It’s not information either family discusses.”

There were too many secrets in this world. Too many ghosts in too many closets, and now a young woman was dead; and she could tell, in those few desperate minutes, Cam’s world had been changed forever as well.

“I don’t know what to do,” she cried, her fingers fisting in his shirt as she pressed her head tighter to his chest. “Oh God, Cam, I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t do anything.” He kissed her brow and held her tighter. “Don’t do anything Jaci, just let me hold you. For right now, just let me hold you.”

27

Chase moved back into the study and watched as Congressman Roberts was loaded onto a gurney and investigators moved around the room, securing it.

He was sure that all traces of Cam, Jaci, and Ian had been cleared from the apartment. He and Carl Allen had made certain of it. And if anything showed up? Well, it would disappear just as easily. Allen was a member of the club, and in this case at least, it was a case of the old boys’ club. Not exactly legal, but there was no reason to complicate the situation with the lies and half truths they would have to tell.

“Moriah was never stable,” Annalee told another investigator from where she sat on the low couch across the room. “She blamed Richard because we wouldn’t let her move into our home. She was very dependent on me.” Annalee’s face twisted in grief as more tears flowed from her swollen eyes. “She was like my child. I loved her.”

Chase wiped his hand over his face and turned back to the sight he didn’t want to see.

Moriah.

Her parents had hidden her mental problems well. Her psychiatrist, the drugs, the close tabs they had kept on her, kept the truth carefully hidden. Beautiful, fairylike Moriah.

He stepped over to her, sat on his haunches, and stared into her peaceful face. She looked as though she were sleeping, except for the bruised wound in the center of her forehead.

His bullet had struck. Carl’s hadn’t. Her life had been extinguished before her insanity could destroy anyone else; and she had been determined to destroy Cameron, simply because he protected Jaci. And Cam would have let her, because of Chase.

He had felt that. The torn emotions his twin had felt in that moment. They had been on his face, had twisted across their bond. He would have taken a bullet, rather than see Chase lose someone he cared for.

He had cared for her.

He brushed a wisp of hair back from her lips and felt his heart squeeze tight at the memory of his fingers pulling that trigger. Unlike Cam, he hadn’t hesitated.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gazing into her doll-like features as he tried to push aside the guilt and the anger. “I’m so sorry, Moriah.”

He pressed his lips together as the leg of Carl’s slacks came into view.