Chapter Five

Present Day

Half of a turkey sandwich stared up at me, daring me to eat it, but I just couldn't find the appetite. I had eaten the first half, and had even enjoyed it, but my aching heart was taking up all the space in my body and I just didn't have room to fit the sandwich. I pushed the food away, the plate making a soft grating noise along the wood table.

The Saunders family portrait stared out at me from across the table. It was one from when the two boys were young. Jack stood next to his father, his hair neat and eyes bright. Robbie, his younger brother, sat on his mother's knee. Despite the outward calm of the picture, I remembered running around trying to catch Robbie to make his hair lay flat for the picture. He had run around the studio like a wild child, eventually tripping and scraping his knee. I could see the edge of the bandage poking out from beneath his shorts.

The table vibrated. I looked askance at the plate, wondering if I had angered the turkey sandwich gods by not eating it; I hadn't pushed it that hard when the tabled buzzed again. Shaking my head at my thoughts, I picked up my phone and the table stopped humming. It was a number I didn't recognize, but that was common enough with my work phone.

"Rachel Weber, how may I help you?"

"Hi Rachel. It's Robbie. I, uh... I need you to come get me." Robbie's voice crackled over the line. His words slurred together just enough that I knew he had been drinking. I sighed. When Robbie was on land, he was always drinking. Some days I was glad he was on his boat just because I knew that meant he was sober. Robbie had a strict rule that he never, ever sailed drunk.

"All right. Where are you? I'll send a car." If I knew Robbie, he was at the bar by the marina in a small town a couple of hours north of the Saunders' mansion. I had picked him up there more than once, to the point where the owner knew my car on sight.

Robbie stayed silent for a moment. "I'm actually gonna need you to come get me. Not just send a car." Uh-oh. This wasn't going to be an easy bar-run.

"Where are you, Robbie?" I managed to keep my voice even. Getting angry with him never worked. It was because I kept calm that he trusted me. There was a reason he never called his mother or brother to get him. It meant several three-o'clock in the morning phone calls, but at least that also meant that he always told me the truth.

"Winchester..." Robbie said. "in the county jail."

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Some days I just didn't know what to do with him.

"Why are you in jail, Robbie? Please tell me it's for something minor." I had bailed him out a couple of times, usually for public intoxication or finishing a bar fight. He always finished a fight, even though he never seemed to start them. Please let it be just a little bar fight...

"I hit someone with my yacht. I technically had the right of way, but.." his voice trailed off.

"But what, Robbie?" I began rubbing my temple with my free hand. Please, don't have killed anyone! Please, please, please...

"I was drinking. That's why I'm in lockup."

Shock went through me like ice water. Robbie hit someone with his boat because he was drinking? But Robbie never drank and sailed. That was like saying he could breathe underwater. It just wasn't something he could do. The fact that he was drinking and sailing startled me more than if he had said he had accidentally killed them.

"You were sailing drunk?" I couldn't believe the words could even come out of my mouth. From the corner of my eye, I saw Dean step into the kitchen and pull the milk out of the fridge. I found myself focusing on his smooth movements, my brain refusing to believe what it had just heard and instead focusing on something it could understand. Dean carefully screwed the lid back on and put the jug away, leaning casually against the counter as he sipped on the glass. I could tell he was waiting for me to get off the phone, but I didn't care if he overheard my phone conversation. He knew all the trouble Robbie had been in up to this point.

"Yes. Listen, this is my one phone call. Will you please come get me? And don't tell Dad. He already thinks I'm a screw-up." Disappointment and failure rang through his voice. My heart sagged in my chest. Their relationship was difficult at best. Telling a dying man that his youngest son was in jail was not something I wanted to do.

"I'll keep it quiet. You said the county jail in Winchester, right?" I closed my eyes, trying to figure out how to get there without anyone noticing.

"Yeah. I know you'll worry about this if I don't tell you. The sheriff hasn't told anyone I'm here yet, so you don't have to worry about that. He said he'd keep it quiet until you got here. The girl I hit is at Mercy Hospital." Robbie's voice somehow sounded more dejected. "And the girl... I hit Sam, Rachel."

"Sam? Samantha Conner?" I opened my eyes as another shock hit me. This was going to be a rough afternoon.

"Yeah. Will you check on her?" Robbie asked. He sounded devastated. Samantha had been his best friend until she moved away when he was thirteen. He had been heartbroken when she left. I had lost track of her, but he had obviously found her again. Unfortunately, it was with his boat.

"Of course I will. I'll be there in a couple hours, all right?"

"Yeah. I'm really sorry about this, Rachel." He somehow managed to sound even more forlorn.

I sighed. "I know, Robbie. And I want you to know that I'm pissed. I'm coming to get you, but I am not pleased." Even through the phone, I could hear him shrink. I was one of the few people whose opinion mattered to him.

"Thank you, Rachel. I really mean it. I don't know what I'd do without you," he said. His voice was quiet.

"I'll be there soon." I hung up the phone and pressed my palms into my eyes. This was not what I needed today. What I needed today was a massage and a glass of wine.

"Who's in jail?" Dean asked, sliding into the seat next to me. He set his glass down with a quiet click on the table. I glanced over, his blue eyes full of concern.

"Robbie. He was sailing drunk. I have to go bail him out," I answered. I folded my hands under my chin, looking out at the leaves and trying to think. I had to go get him without raising suspicion. I knew Emma would cover for me but that Jack would be furious if he found out. There was no way I was going to let Daniel know, though.

"I'll go get the car." Dean stood smoothly, picking up his glass and heading toward the sink.

"What makes you think you are coming? Robbie asked me to come get him. And... and you're supposed to be watching Emma." The idea of being in a car with Dean, alone, for two hours had me simultaneously excited and terrified. I wanted desperately to be alone with him, but frightened of what could happen.

Dean gave me a level look, his blue eyes capturing mine. "You're going to want my help."

"Why? I can drive myself, and I've bailed Robbie out of jail before. This isn't a new thing," I scoffed at him.

He set the glass in the sink and stepped closer to me. He came close enough that I could smell his cologne, his face only inches from mine. My fingers itched to reach out and touch him while my stomach did flips worthy of the Olympics. I had a sudden wish that he would just lean over and kiss me.

"You need me." He gave me one of his crooked smiles. "I know the sheriff in Winchester. He owes me a favor. Wouldn't it be nice if Robbie didn't have this on his record?"

With him this close to me, I was having trouble concentrating. I just wanted to touch him, to kiss him again. Even after all this time, I still dreamt about that last kiss. I needed to focus on something other than his perfect lips. I smoothed the top of my head, making sure it was still in a tight, neat bun. Be professional. You can't have him. He probably doesn't even think of you like that anyway.

"Fine," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "I'm driving though."

His crooked grin widened to a full-out smile, his eyes twinkling. And I'm thinking of kissing him again. This was going to be a long day.