Chapter 5

Bryce parked in his usual spot behind City Hall and reluctantly slid out of his vehicle. Did he dare enter the building today? It had been a tough week already, and he wasn't sure he had it in him to face another day like Monday or Tuesday. One thing was for sure, there was no way he would be doing any property maintenance checks today.

How had it come to this? He'd become the dreaded property maintenance guy. He looked down at where his real leg used to be - the reminder of how he ended up where he did. If not for the improvised explosive device that nearly took his life, he'd probably either still be in the Marine Corps or a police officer, utilizing the Police Science degree he'd earned before joining the service. But no, without a leg, being a soldier or a police officer were no longer options.

Lucky me. I got to become the property maintenance guy.

A small part of him held hope, since he obtained a Public Administration degree after returning home, he'd get promoted, or find an administrator position, something more than being a planning/zoning assistant and the property maintenance guy.

Bryce sighed as he entered his office and flipped through some design sketches for a new apartment complex being proposed to the city by a well-established developer. Though it should be a slam dunk by the planning commission next week, he still had to prepare a thorough executive summary for them to review.

After completing the paperwork for the meeting agenda, he slipped into the records room to work on digitizing the property record files, a job he'd decided to take on several months back. It would probably take him a year to finish the low priority project, but he didn't mind working on it a little at a time when he desired some mindless, yet needed, work.

As he scanned documents, his mind drifted to his encounters with Tiana. Not just her though, but the others like her as well. On one hand, surrounding himself with women like her, selfish, uncaring women with whom he knew he'd have no future, shielded him from having to deal with his intimacy issues. If his father's marriage record wasn't already bad enough, he had to add his inadequate body to boot.

It had been five years since he lost his leg just below his knee and damaged his genitals, and in all that time he still hadn't attempted intercourse. Sweat ran down his sides. Fearing what a woman would think at the sight of his inadequate, incomplete body, he avoided intimacy, yet he fiercely longed for it. He was lonely, both physically and mentally. Anxiety ripped through him. What scared him even more was the possibility he wouldn't be able to father children, or worse yet, perform.

Even with all the months he'd spent in rehab and therapy after he'd lost his leg, he still couldn't shake the mental incompleteness he felt. Many soldiers had been injured in a far greater capacity than he and they seemed to be able to work through their issues, but he still felt like he was on square one, and in his mind, square two looked to be such a leap he didn't think he'd ever make it.

Markie Pearson's lovely, freckled face flashed in his mind. His chest hollowed knowing he'd never be able to get and keep a spirited woman like her. She'd need a complete man. A man who could surely satisfy her. His chest hollowed. It was hopeless.

He swallowed hard, just as his stomach growled, jolting him back into reality. A quick glance at his watch let him know it was time for lunch. Fearing Tiana would stop at his house during his lunch hour, he'd chosen to pack his lunch today and just eat at his desk in solitude.

Back in his office, he began to unwrap his sandwich when someone knocked on his door. He squeezed his eyes shut. Please God, not Tiana.

When he lifted his lids and turned his head he found Lori Holloway peeking through the narrow glass on his door. Thank God. He motioned his bar league dart partner in.

They'd met when he first moved to town and quickly became friends. Though he knew she wanted more from him, she was shy and never really pushed the issue after her first attempt when he'd let her down easy. He just didn't feel the same.

She sat in the chair opposite his desk and flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder. "I hear you had a rough couple of days."

One thing he learned promptly when moving to this small town was that everybody knew everyone's business. It was a wonder he was able to hide the truth about his leg. At least he'd thought he was successful. Nobody talked about it.

"You could say that."

She nodded sympathetically.

Bryce pointed at his lunch sprawled out on his desk. "Did you eat yet? I've plenty if you want some."

Lori smiled warmly. "I already ate. I just wanted to check in on you to see how you were doing."

She really was a nice, caring woman. Just not his type. Why nobody'd scooped her up yet was beyond him.

"All's good."

"Has there been any scuttlebutt about who killed Sister Ann?" she asked.

"Not that I've heard. But for a moment there, I think Investigator Pearson thought it was me."

Adrenaline shot through his veins at the thought he was actually a person of interest.

Lori arched a brow. "Really?"

He shrugged. "I get it, seeing it was me who found her, but still. I've worked here for a couple of years now. You'd think they'd know me by now."

Lori shook her head as her dark brown gaze held his. "I know. But you know, every time something like this happens and they interview family and friends of the guilty party on television, they always say, 'He was the nicest guy. I can't believe he'd do something like this. He was the best neighbor.' You know, that kind of stuff."

His chest tightened. She was right. It was only logical the police - Markie consider him a suspect, but it still hurt.

"I suppose. Plus, it doesn't help these property maintenance issues are nothing but a thorn in my side, and I've complained about them in the past to Markie during the ones we had to work on together."

"Yeah. I recall how you feel about them, and from what you've said, I don't blame you for complaining. It sounds justified."

His kind friend's comment was true. His grievances were warranted but now they made him look guilty.

"I know, but now I wish I hadn't said anything."

"Do you want to get a drink after work? Take your mind off things?"

He thought for a moment. With as good as that sounded a quiet night home alone sounded better. "Raincheck?"

Disappointment flashed in her gaze. "Sure."

The door banged open. The scent of coconut infiltrated his nostrils. He knew it was Markie even before his head snapped in that direction.

Her reproachful glare pinned him in place and held for a moment before she swung it to Lori. The meek woman shifted awkwardly in her chair and looked to be purposely avoiding Markie's glower.

Markie moved her gaze back to him. "We need to talk." Her stern voice sent a chill up his spine.

Lori sprang out of her chair. "I was just leaving."

Markie stood rigid in front of his desk. She looked flustered. Unusual for her.

"Did you hear the latest?" she asked.

He was almost too afraid to ask. "Latest what?"

"Where were you this morning at about eleven a.m.?"

"Here."

"You weren't in your office when I checked a while ago, and nobody seemed to know where you were."

The chill in his spine spread to the rest of his nerve endings. "What's going on?"

"First, tell me where you were."

"I was in the records room digitizing documents." Feeling defensive, he turned toward his computer, called up the files, and pointed at his screen. "See, look. You can see the time stamp on these, proving I was in the records room scanning documents."

Markie leaned over his shoulder. Her enticing coconut scent penetrated his nostrils, playing sweet havoc on his senses even though she grilled him.

"How do I know Colleen or Mary didn't create those files?"

Though he knew he could prove his innocence, the frustration in his body caused his muscles to constrict. "Well, why don't you just go ask them if you don't believe me?" he said as he shook his head in quick, sharp movements while he lifted his hand and gestured toward the door. His tone had been prickly by design.

Markie let out a minty breath. Her accusing, taut facial muscles loosened into a repentant look of understanding.

What in the hell is going on?

She moved away from him, stepped around his desk, and took a seat in the chair on the opposite side.

"The fire department was called to a vehicle fire today at Old Hulbert's place."

He sprang forward in his chair. "Is he okay?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not. He was in the vehicle."