The Hometown Hero Returns by Beth Kery Page A

perfect sense.
    Or at least she’d thought it did, until she climbed the steps to her house and made her habitual glance up Sycamore Avenue to the Kavanaugh house. The vision of Marc staring down at her as she awoke rose in her mind’s eye.
    I was thinking about all the nights I missed watching you while you slept.
    Longing tore through her, so sharp it stole her breath.
    Â 
    Marc and Liam were the only two people remaining that evening after Colleen and Brigit took a horde ofBrendan’s friends and Jenny to Kate’s Ice Cream Parlor on Main Street. They sat at the kitchen table, covered with half a dozen pizza boxes, plastic cups, a half-eaten birthday cake, soda bottles and an array of toys and party favors. They’d volunteered to clean up, but neither brother seemed too anxious to get started.
    â€œI’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” Marc said. “You’ve lost weight. You look like crap.”
    Liam scowled and scraped his fingers through his mussed, shoulder-length hair. “I’ve been too busy to work out lately. Or get a haircut. Not all of us have the leisurely schedule of a gentleman lawyer.”
    â€œI’m a government employee, not a fat cat. But that’s not my point. You’re working undercover again, aren’t you?”
    Liam’s mouth turned hard. “Can’t keep much from you, can I, counselor?”
    Connecting the dots and not particularly liking the resulting picture, Marc just studied his brother for a moment.
    â€œIt’s that corrupt cop investigation, isn’t it?” Marc asked.
    Liam raised his brows and slouched insouciantly in his chair, and Marc had his answer.
    As the county’s top prosecutor, Marc lived and breathed the same air as Chicago cops. He knew when something was up; he sensed when cops were jumpy.
    â€œThat inner ring of dirty cops is dangerous, Liam.”
    Blue eyes flashed. “You think I don’t know that?”
    â€œJust be careful. You’d put Mom in a grave if something happened to you. She’s worried enough about Deidre.”
    â€œYou have some nerve, accusing Deidre and me of being martyrs. Who do you think we learned it from, Mr. Defender of Victim’s Rights?” Liam accused.
    Marc didn’t fall for the bait, just continued to hold Liam’s stare until his brother sighed and glanced away.
    â€œYou sound like Mom. I told her I’d think about quitting the force when I’m done with this assignment, but not before. So the only thing I can do is tell you I’ll be as careful as I always am. I don’t have a death wish.”
    You sure as hell act like you do sometimes.
    Marc bit his tongue to keep from saying the words out loud. He’d said enough for now. It wouldn’t help things to start a fight with Liam.
    Liam grimaced when he lifted his elbow off the table and saw that a miniature plastic hockey puck was stuck to his skin. “I guess we better start cleaning up,” he mumbled.
    â€œRight,” Marc agreed unenthusiastically.
    â€œThey say we’re in for a hell of a storm later on tonight,” Liam said as he stood. He picked up the empty bag of cherry tarts Mari had donated for the party. “Hey…weird about you and Mari being back in town at the same time, huh?” Liam asked with affected casualness.
    â€œYeah,” Marc replied shortly. He carried a stack of pizza boxes to the garbage.
    â€œMarc.”
    He turned, something in Liam’s tone making him cautious.
    â€œI…I never told anyone. About the night of the accident. About Mari being at the house with you.”
    Marc narrowed his eyelids as memories of that fateful summer night assaulted him.
    Liam’s panicked shouts from downstairs had interrupted an intensely private moment between Mari and Marc fifteen years ago. In fact, they’d been about to make love for the first time as a storm brewed on the horizon. The news of the