Brash by Laura Wright Page A

she’d agreed to working together. Being close to Cole, seeing what he knew, intercepting information.
    They all had shit they didn’t want to face. But it was coming for them anyway. Best be prepared, and harden the heart. It had worked for him, he mused as he picked up another file. This one was thinner than the others, and the only thing inside was a faded newspaper. Cole eased it out and started thumbing through the yellowed pages. Community stuff, school sports . . . He was about to close it up and put it back when he spotted something on the lifestyle page. His family. His heart kicked inside his chest. There they were. At the River Black Fair. Mom was eating an ice-cream cone; Dad had his hand onher shoulder. All four kids were around them, eating ice cream too. Cole stared, entranced. He remembered that day. It had been a good day.
    His eyes dropped to another picture below it. This one was of Barry Pickens and one of the Lansing kids, both atop horses in town. And to the right, sitting on the steps of the library, waving at the person taking the photograph, was Cass. Cole ran his fingers over the shot. Goddamn, he missed that girl. Would do anything to have her back. He’d failed her something awful.
    Something caught his eye then and he drew the paper closer. What was that? Behind Cass on the steps, in the shadows? Or better yet, who was it? Didn’t look like a guy . . . Cole turned back at the picture of his family, stared hard. His heart jumped in his ribs. What was going on here?
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    Grace’s concerned tone didn’t pull him from the photographs. He brought the image even closer, wishing it was on the computer so he could enhance it. Fuzzy as it was, he could just make out a female shape . . . a skirt under the knees. He looked back and forth. He didn’t recognize what he could see of the face.
    He felt Grace beside him, camped out over his left shoulder. “You found something.” It wasn’t a question.
    â€œA newspaper. Only thing in one of your daddy’s folders.”
    She paled slightly.
    â€œYou recognize this person?” he asked, pointing.
    Grace drew in close, studied it for a second. “No. Who is it?”
    â€œNot a clue. But she’s in the background of both pictures. Why would that be?”
    â€œWere they taken on the same day?”
    â€œNo. We were at the fair in this one. And this one’s out in front of the library steps. Besides, she’s wearing different clothes. Hair’s different too.”
    â€œIt’s a small town, Cole,” she said. “Odds are you’re going to be running into the same people . . .”
    He knew that. He knew what he was seeing might be nothing at all. But it wasn’t just what he was seeing. It was what he was feeling too. Wasn’t right. Wasn’t the guy they were looking for, true. But it wasn’t right.
    His eyes found hers. “Why do you think your daddy had this, Grace? And all by its lonesome in the file?”
    She looked uncomfortable. Her face tense. “I don’t know.”
    Christ. “We’re gonna need to ask him.”
    She nodded. “Yeah.”
    He didn’t say anything for a moment. What could he say? Your pops was in on this? Kept something hidden? Shit . . . she already knew that. It’s why she’d suggested they work together.
    He placed the newspaper flat on his thighs andreached for his iPhone. He snapped a couple of pictures at different angles and ranges, then started texting.
    â€œWho are you sending those to?” she asked, her voice sounding thin, worried.
    â€œMy brothers and Mac,” he told her. “We’ll see if any of them recognize her.”
    â€œBut we’re not looking for a girl, Cole,” she said. “We’re looking for a guy. The Sweet character.”
    â€œI know. And we’ll continue to do that. But