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him that with his name he should have been a porn star or at least a country singer. At least that way he’d probably still be alive.
    He’d just laugh at her and sing some song in that God awful voice of his.
    Had it only been ten months since he’d died? It felt like forever and yet at the same time, like it had been yesterday. He’d been killed in the line of duty. Her partner. Her friend. Her fault.
    They’d both worked for the Baton Rouge Police Department, but after Rusty’s death his family had brought his body back here to Austin. She’d followed, unable to let him go.
    “What do I do, Rus?” she whispered. “I need to get out of town for a while. If I stick around I’m worried he’s going to get lucky and hurt me, or someone else. But if I take that job, I’d have to work as part of a team. I don’t think I can do that again. Not after I got you killed.”
    “Funny, I thought it was those druggies who fired the bullet that killed my brother.”
    Cady stood, whirling around to face the female standing behind her.
    “Lucia.” She nodded her head at Rusty’s older sister. How the hell had she not heard her approach? What if she’d been Sean? Cady had to get her shit together.
    “Cady, I wondered if I would ever catch you here. I always seem to arrive after you’ve come and gone.”
    “How did you know I’d been visiting?” she asked.
    Lucia nodded at the headstone. “You always clean off the dust and dirt. Rusty’s is the cleanest headstone in this graveyard.”
    “Oh. He was always so messy. I was constantly cleaning up after him. Guess it’s habit.”
    “I know what you mean,” Lucia said with a smile. “Rusty was ten years younger than me, the son my parents never thought they would have. They doted on him. He got used to my mother picking up after him.”
    Lucia narrowed her gaze, staring at Cady. “You blame yourself for his death. Is that why you never come and visit us?”
    Cady swallowed heavily and wiped her sweating hands against her jeans. She’d grown up in foster homes, she di dn’t have any family of her own so Rusty had often brought her home to his family for the holidays when they didn’t have to work. Cady had been reluctant at first, not wanting to intrude, but the Riveras were a force to be reckoned with. They’d practically adopted her.
    “It was my fault. He wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for me.”
    Lucia placed a hand on her hip. “Wasn’t it his job to go after the bad guys, to back his partner up?”
    “We s hould have waited for back-up. We shouldn’t have gone in by ourselves.” But she’d raced in and Rusty had been the one to pay. Bullets had flown, hitting Rusty in the chest, his blood gushing in a thick, crimson river.
    Cady swallowed back her bile.
    “Wasn’t it a domestic disturbance call out? You had no idea it was a meth house,” Lucia said.
    “Yeah, but Rusty had a bad feeling. He called in for back-up. I heard a woman scream and I couldn’t hold back. I went rushing in when I shouldn’t have. He followed me.”
    “You forced him to follow you inside?”
    “Of course not.”
    “So my brother was just willing to stand on the sidewalk and listen to a woman scream in pain?”
    “What? No, he was right behind me.”
    “Close enough to tackle you to the ground if he’d wanted to keep you from going inside? You’re tough, Cady, but he outweighed you by a good sixty pounds. My brother never did anything he didn’t want to. There was no way he would have stood by while a woman was being hurt and you and I both know it. Tell me, then, why are you continuing to blame yourself?”
    Cady knew there was truth to her words. But she wasn’t quite ready to let go of the guilt.
    “I guess it’s easier this way,” she whispered. “I don’t have to let anyone get close.”
    Lucia took a step forward and placed her hand over Cady’s arm. She was a beautiful woman, the lines on her face only adding to her appeal.
    “Rusty