His voice shook with emotion. Thoroughly confused by his behavior, she pulled away and said, "You’re happy to see me? I thought you’d be furious that I followed you. Tommy, why didn’t you call me Friday evening? You promised you would."

He finally let go of her. "And you’ve been worried, haven’t you?"

She looked into his big brown eyes and decided to tell him the truth after all. "Yes, I’ve been worried. You were supposed to call when you had the results of the blood work, but you didn’t call and I thought… maybe the results weren’t very good."

"The lab screwed up. That’s why I didn’t call. They had to redo the tests. I should have called, but damn it, Laurant, you should have let me know you were coming. I’ve got Sheriff Lloyd looking all over Holy Oaks for you. Come on inside. I’ve got to call him and tell him you’re here, safe and sound."

"You called Sheriff Lloyd looking for me? Why?"

He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her along. "I’ll explain everything as soon as I get you inside. It’s safer."

"Safer? Tommy, what’s going on? I’ve never seen you so rattled. And who is that man standing on the porch?"

The question surprised her brother. "You’ve never met him, have you?"

"Who?" she asked, her frustration mounting.

"Nick. That’s Nick Buchanan."

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to her brother. "You’re sick again, aren’t you? That’s why he’s here… like the last time when you got so bad and you didn’t tell me until-"

"No," he interrupted. "I’m not sick again." She didn’t look like she believed him, and so he tried once again to convince her. "I promised you I would tell you when and if I had to have chemo again. Remember?"

"Yes," she whispered, her fear ebbing.

"I’m sorry I didn’t call you Friday," he said. "It was inconsiderate. I should have let you know the tests got screwed up."

"If you don’t have to have chemo again, why is Nick here?" she asked with a glance toward the porch.

"I sent for him, but the reason had nothing to do with my health." He rushed on before she could interrupt him. "Come on, Laurant. It’s about time you met him."

With a smile she said, "The infamous Nick Buchanan. You didn’t tell me he was so…" She stopped herself in time. She had always felt she could tell her brother just about anything, but it didn’t seem appropriate now for her to admit that she thought his best friend was incredibly sexy. It was double jeopardy, she supposed, having an older brother who also happened to be a priest. There was no way he would understand or appreciate his sister having such ideas.

Nick and Tommy were more like brothers than friends. They met during a fistfight on the playground of St. Matthew’s Elementary School when they were in second grade. They bloodied each other’s noses and from that day on became each other’s shadow. By an odd set of circumstances, Tommy ended up living with the Buchanan family of eight children most of his grade school and high school years, and then he and Nick went to Penn State University together.

"He’s so what?" Tommy asked as he pulled her along.

"I’m sorry?"

"Nick’s so what?"

"Tall," she said, finally remembering what they were talking about.

"I never sent you any photos?"

"No, you didn’t," she said, casting her brother a frown for the oversight. Suddenly nervous, she took a deep breath, smoothed her skirt, and went up the stairs to meet him.

Lordy, lordy, he had blue eyes. Brilliant blue eyes that didn’t miss a trick, she thought as Tommy made the hasty introductions. She put her hand out to shake his, but he wouldn’t let her be formal. He pushed her hand away, pulled her into his arms, and hugged her. It was a brotherly embrace, and when she stepped back, he continued to hold on to her while he looked her over.

"I’m so happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you over the years," she said.

"I can’t believe we haven’t met before now," he replied. "I saw all the pictures of you when you were a kid. Tommy had them up on the wall of our dorm room, but that was years ago, and damn, Laurant, you sure have changed."

She laughed. "I hope I have. The sisters at the boarding school were thoughtful enough to send photos to my brother, but he, on the other hand, never sent me any."

"I didn’t own a camera," Tommy said.

"You could have borrowed one. You were too lazy."

"Men don’t think about things like that," he argued. "At least I didn’t. Nick, we should get her inside, shouldn’t we?"

"Yes, of course," he agreed.

Tommy held the screen door open and rudely shoved Laurant inside.

"What, in heaven’s name, is the matter with you?" she demanded.

"I’ll explain in a minute," he promised.

The foyer was dark and musty. Her brother rushed ahead and led the way into the kitchen at the back of the two-story house. There was a breakfast nook with a bay window overlooking Monsignor’s vegetable garden, which took up most of the fenced-in backyard. An old rectangular oak table, one leg propped up with a coaster so it wouldn’t wobble, and four spindle chairs sat in front of the three windows. The room had been recently painted a bright, cheerful yellow, but the blinds were torn and brown along the edges. They needed to be replaced, but she knew money was a precious commodity at Mercy.

Laurant stood in the center of the kitchen, watching her brother. He was acting like a nervous twit, pulling all the blinds down to the windowsill. Sunlight filtered into the kitchen through the cracks and tears, filling the room with soft light.

"What’s the matter with him?" she whispered to Nick.

"He’ll explain in a minute," he promised, repeating Tommy’s exact words to her.

In other words, be patient, she thought.

Nick pulled a chair out for her and took the seat adjacent to her. Tommy couldn’t seem to get settled. He sat down, then immediately jumped back up to get a notebook and pen from the linoleum counter. He was as jittery as a June bug.

Then Nick drew her attention when he stood up. His demeanor was just as serious as her brother’s. She watched him loosen his tie and unbutton the top button of his shirt. The man oozed sensuality, she thought to herself. Was there a woman back in Boston waiting for him to come home? She knew he wasn’t married, but he could be involved with someone. Surely he was.

Then Nick removed his jacket, and Laurant’s fantasies came to a screeching halt.

As Nick draped the coat over the back of the empty chair next to him he watched the abrupt change in Laurant. Her back was now pressed against the chair as though she were trying to put as much distance between them as possible. He also noticed she was staring at his gun. Just a few seconds ago, she had been open and friendly, bordering on flirtatious. Now she looked guarded and uncomfortable.

"The gun bother you?"

She didn’t give him a direct answer. "I thought you were an investigator."

"I am."

"Then why do you wear a gun?"

"It goes with the job," Tommy answered for his friend. He was shuffling through his papers, his head downcast while he tried to get organized.

Laurant’s patience had run out. "I’ve waited long enough, Tommy. I want to know why you’re acting so strange. I’ve never seen you this nervous."

"I have something to tell you," he began. "It’s kind of difficult to know where to start." Looking past her, he said the last to Nick, who nodded.

"I think I know what it is," she said. "You did get your lab results, didn’t you? And you’re afraid to tell me about them. Did you think I’d make a scene, and that’s why you waited? They weren’t good, were they?"

He let out a weary sigh. "I got the results last night as a matter of fact. I was going to tell you later… after I explained what happened yesterday."

"Tell me now," she said quietly.