The party. Brian throwing the punch at Stuart Rossman. His yell to either help clean up the mess before the cops came or to get the hell out, stepping around the injured kid as he went into panic mode. And Dare himself following his friends as they ran for the door.

"He's going to hurt someone-worse than he already hurt you-if he doesn't get the help he needs," Dare said.

"Do you really think I don't know that?" Liza turned to glare at him, her big brown eyes full of pain and betrayal.

He swallowed hard, knowing that, yes, it was easier to give advice than to take it. "Then stop making it so easy for him to keep doing it. He's got to hit rock bottom and if he has you to prop him back up, he never will."

"He's my brother," she said, her voice cracking. "You might not have had a relationship with yours for over a decade, but I have. And Brian was there for me. He saved me when-" She caught herself and clammed up, gripping her briefcase harder in her hand. "He's my brother," she repeated.

As if that was enough of a reason.

But Dare stayed focused on her other words. "How did he save you?" he asked, wondering where, beyond blood ties, her loyalty came from.

Because as sure as he was standing here, Dare knew she didn't condone her brother's drinking or his behavior, no matter how much she enabled it by helping him.

"It's nothing," she said in an icy cold tone that stung.

The same words and tone he'd used when she'd asked about his tattoo. He didn't miss the irony any more than he liked how it felt turned back on him.

His hand came to rest on the dark ink. It wasn't just a tribal band. Inside was the date of the party, the date Dare had done nothing and someone died. It had been a way to honor the kid's memory and to remind Dare of his promise to change how he lived his life. The inking of karma was a symbol for new beginnings without forgetting the sins of his past.

It wasn't "nothing," any more than whatever Liza was hiding from him now was. Still, he doubted they'd get anywhere this morning. Not with tensions and hurt so high between them.

So when she turned to get into her car, he let her go.

He needed a breather and no doubt so did she. But he couldn't shake the memory of how he'd hurt her this morning. Twice.

He'd promised himself he wouldn't be another person who let her down and damned if he hadn't gone and done just that.

Liza drove up to her office. Every time she approached the old building that she used to visit when her grandparents worked there, she smiled. Her grandfather had renovated an old large Victorian, turning it into office space. Liza usually got a kick of pride that she was now in charge. No such kick hit her this morning. Instead, she was numb. This morning with Dare had been nothing like the night before, and, as much as she hated to admit it, the fault had been hers. Well, her brother's, technically, but in her mind it equaled the same thing. She couldn't change who her family was any more than he could change his. As furious as she was with Dare for judging her, at the same time, she understood why he hated her brother.

The question was, would he grow to hate her too?

She shook off the heavy thoughts and headed straight for Peter's office, wondering what was so urgent that he'd had to see her in person. It couldn't be good.

"Peter?" she said as she knocked on his open office door.

"Come in!" He rose as she stepped inside. Liza ran a business-casual office, but Peter always presented himself in a three-piece suit and today was no different. "Thank you for coming so quickly," he said, fixing his tie as he spoke.

"What's so important?" she asked, not wanting to give him any indication that she assumed the problem had to do with her brother.

He glanced down at his desk where everything was meticulously organized, rifled through a few file folders and pulled out the one he was looking for. "There's something unusual you need to see in Accounts Receivable," he said.

"Brian's department." She kept her tone neutral.

"Yes. You see, we have two checks made out to Annabelle's Antiques." Peter handed her two photographed copies.

Liza recalled the purchase. "We bought antique window frames from them." She'd chosen them herself. "Twenty-five hundred dollars a piece, as I recall."

"So why were two five-thousand-dollar checks issued?" Peter asked.

Liza looked at the papers he'd handed to her, confirming his words at a glance. "Did you check with the bank to see if they were both cashed?"

"Of course." Two red spots highlighted the man's cheeks. "I'm always thorough." He clearly bristled at her question.

"I didn't mean to offend you, Peter. I was just asking."

He cleared his throat. "Yes. I inquired. Both checks were cashed. However, the signatures on the back of each are markedly different. Poor bank oversight if you ask me," the man muttered.

Another glance at the next set of documents he handed her proved his assertion right. Both were signed in the name of Annabelle Block, but one had distinctly masculine handwriting on the endorsement. Handwriting similar to her brother's.

She felt the heat of Peter's stare as he waited for her to come to a conclusion. She'd already reached one that churned her already upset stomach. Just this morning Brian had come begging to borrow money and now...What was going on here? He'd issued two checks and cashed one himself?

Or was she jumping to unwarranted conclusions and maybe this was just an innocent mistake. She bit the inside of her cheek. Only her brother or Annabelle Block, the shop owner would know. Liza needed to decide who to talk to first.

She glanced at Peter, who looked at her expectantly. "Thank you for being so thorough," she said to her accountant, careful to feed his need for approval.

She didn't want to alienate the man and put him on Brian's trail. Even if Accounts Receivable was his department, they'd both been careful to skirt the issue and not mention his name. She'd like to keep it that way for now.

"I'm very grateful you called me in to see this," she added.

"What do you want me to do?" Peter asked, obviously eager to help.

Liza gripped the papers tighter in her hand. She needed to look into this herself and if Brian was involved, figure out what he was up to before she involved the office or Peter directly.

She gave Peter a forced smile. "Just your normal work. I'll take it from here." She folded the papers he'd given her and put them in her oversized bag.

Liza glanced at her watch. "I have to get going. I have a meeting I'm going to be late for, but thanks again."

"Well, if you change your mind, I'm happy to call the account in question." Peter inclined his head, as usual, beaming with pride that he'd done his job so well.

Liza strode out of his office and was headed for the exit, preoccupied with thoughts of what Brian was up to and whether she should confront him outright or do a side investigation first. Dare would know. The errant thought brought her up short and she stopped in the entry hall.

She'd spent one night with him and she'd dropped defenses she'd spent years building, only to have him withdraw over the tattoo and then judge a situation he knew nothing about. He'd wormed his way in and hurt her in a short span of time. Lesson learned, Liza thought. Dare had nothing to do with her business or her problems with her brother. So while the cop might well have answers she needed, Liza was capable of figuring out what to do on her own. She had no intention of relying on Dare Barron again for anything.

She pulled herself together and started for the door, bumping into Jeff as he entered through the other side.

Liza hadn't seen him since the awkward "this isn't a date" incident at the fair and she really wasn't in the mood to deal with him now.

"Jeff, hi!" Liza said, hoping all she'd be facing was a quick conversation between co-workers.

"It's good to see you," he said, his gaze looking her over. "How's your injury?"

"My head is doing pretty well. It still hurts occasionally and sometimes I have to take painkillers that knock me out. Which is why I didn't get back to you," she said, knowing she owed him an explanation.

She wouldn't tell him she'd been afraid he'd read too much into a return call. "But thank you so much for calling to check on me."

He nodded in understanding. "Frankly I'm surprised your watchdog told you I called."

"Dare told me," she assured him evenly.

"How did you like the flowers? I wanted to make sure you got them."

Liza blinked in surprise. "You sent the flowers?"

"You didn't know?"

She shook her head.

"No wonder you didn't call," he said, more to himself than to her.

Embarrassment flooded her. "I'm sorry I didn't acknowledge them, but there was no card and I just thought..."

Jeff's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "You thought your cop sent them," he muttered, and shook his head.

Liza gritted her teeth, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration filling her. Could this mess with Jeff get any worse? They'd had a great working relationship until she'd gone and screwed it up in a misguided attempt to be nice and invite him to meet her at the fair. So she could introduce him to people in town, not because she had any romantic interest in the man.

"Jeff, listen. I realize this is awkward and we've had a lot of misunderstandings in a short time-" Liza began.

"It's fine. You already told me where I stand. The flowers were just what the card said-if you'd gotten it. A friendly get-well gesture from a colleague," he assured her, sounding like he meant it. "And I'm sorry for what I said about your cop friend. He just stepped up and took over before I could." He shrugged and his cheeks flushed.

He was embarrassed, she realized. Men and their egos.

"I hope we can get back to where things were before?" Jeff asked.

Liza smiled and nodded, admiring his honesty. "Of course we can. And I appreciate the flowers. They really were beautiful."

"Well, I'm glad you're better. And now I should get upstairs to work."

"You've got a tough boss, so yeah, you probably should."

Jeff laughed and Liza joined him. "I'm heading for Mystic, so I probably won't see you back here until tomorrow."

"Okay. Let me know when you're ready to move forward there."

"I will."

She raised a hand in a wave and walked out to her car, once more.

The sun shone down and Liza put the convertible top down for the ride. Maybe some fresh air and a road trip would help settle her mind and her mood. She ignored the urge to check her phone to see if Dare had called. It wouldn't matter if he had, since her brother would always be an issue between them.

Which shouldn't matter if what she wanted from Dare was a quick fling. That's all she would allow in her life. So why were all these unwanted feelings and emotions rioting around in her head? Why did her heart feel like it was breaking a mere morning after just because Dare had walked away so easily?

She ground her teeth in frustration and pulled out of the parking lot, heading through town. Her brakes felt funny-mushy-like-and she narrowed her gaze.

She'd just had the car inspected last month. At the end of the road, there was a stop sign and she decided to test the brakes before getting onto the highway. At the intersection, she slowed and still didn't like the squishy way the brakes felt. And when she attempted to bring the car to a stop, nothing happened.

The vehicle still rolled and she began to pound on the brakes. Still nothing. Panic filled her and she hit the floor harder with her foot. Still nothing.

Someone was looking out for her because no more cars were coming on either side of the street, but her heart picked up speed, since ahead of her was the main traffic light in town. Cars would be coming from all directions.

Liza glanced around frantically. To her left was a row of shops. To her right was the main lawn and the beautiful flowers lining the street. With no alternative, she cut her wheel right and held on as she deliberately turned her small car onto the lawn.

She shut her eyes and screamed as the car hit the gazebo.

Dare walked into the station, hot and annoyed. His first call of the day was spent arguing with the Delaneys, an older couple, over the fact that, yes, their barking dog was creating a disturbance and either they'd have to agree to take him inside or Dare would be forced to call the pound. As it was, he issued them a citation for animal cruelty for keeping their pets outdoors for so long in ninety-eight-degree heat.

"You look like you've been through the ringer," Cara said from her seat behind her desk.

"Says the woman who drew desk duty," he muttered, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

He shook his head and walked to the water cooler, filling his water bottle with cold water and guzzling it fast.

"A car just slammed into the center median in town," Sally, the dispatcher, called out. "I sent Marsden over."

Cara raised an eyebrow. "That's something you don't see every day. Wonder if it's a drunk and disorderly or an old person who shouldn't be behind a wheel?"

Sally shrugged and put her headset back on.

Dare's cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. Sam's number showed on the screen and every nerve he possessed screamed in warning.

"Talk to me," Dare said.

"The accident in town? It's Liza."

Dare's family history immediately flashed through his mind; his parents' deaths, Faith being hit by a car while trying to push Tess out of the way, and the ever-present vision of Stuart Rossman as he lay dying on the floor.

"Hey, did you hear me? I said she's okay." Sam's voice intruded on Dare's run down memory lane. "I just thought you'd want to know."

Dare ran for his car before Sam had finished his sentence, Cara yelling at him to wait as she caught up to him in the hall.

"What is it?"

"Liza's car hit the center median."

Cara's eyes opened wide. "If it weren't for bad luck, she'd have none at all. Give me a second to clear it and I'll go with you."

"Move it or I'm leaving without you," Dare said. Sam and Cara were officially partners, and since Dare's partner moved out of state, he'd been solo until the police chief, who just happened to be Sam's father, Simon Marsden, handled reassignments and new hires.

Five minutes later, they pulled up to the scene to find Sam's cruiser parked at an angle, blocking off Main Street, while another officer rerouted traffic around the side streets.

An ambulance pulled up seconds behind Dare.

He strode across the lawn and past the police barrier. By the time he reached the scene of the accident, his heart was permanently lodged in the back of his throat. Then he saw Liza's small convertible wedged into the gazebo. The top was down, the front end had taken a beating, and the air bag had deployed. Liza sat on the ground, Sam by her side, and she looked fine.

As Dare approached, Sam was talking too quietly for Dare to make out what he was saying. Liza, on the other hand, was speaking loud and clear. "I'm fine. I do not need a hospital and I just want to go home."

Dare held back a grin, relieved that she really was okay and clearly feeling well enough to argue with Sam.