The Forbidden Brother. Barbara McMahon

He drove a shrewd deal and his pieces were now sought after, by private collectors, as well as modern museums.

      The clean salt air felt refreshing after the constant scent of rotting vegetation that permeated the area around the Amazon River basin. He had become used to the smell over the months, only now realizing how foul the air seemed in comparison.

      Tossing some money on the table, holding his suit jacket with one finger, he slung it across his shoulder and headed back to his hotel. He’d call the office, let them know he was extending his visit. This was not something he could handle in a day or two.

      To appease his mother, he’d let the showing take place. How that would affect probate, he’d have to find out from the attorney. Once he’d unpacked and changed into cooler clothes, he’d head for the cottage and assess what needed to be done there. He couldn’t believe he’d never see his brother again. That he wasn’t going to be called upon to bail him out of yet another scrape. Or hear some convoluted plan on how Jordan would make a million dollars.

      They hadn’t been close, but he missed him like hell.

      What had his life been like here? Jed had never visited Jordan’s cottage. Would the place remind him of Jordan? Or would it be so unknown to him no reminders would arise? He hoped for the latter. He wished Jordan had written his will differently. Jed wished he could still be in the Amazon Basin sweating over delivery of the next supply ship, haranguing the local laborers to work faster or the blasted bridge would never be complete. Wouldn’t that have antagonized his mother, to not even come home once he had learned of Jordan’s death?

      Yet there was nothing to be done. Jordan was gone. It was hard to grasp he’d never see his brother again. Never find that magic moment when they’d be close as they had been as young boys, before the obvious favoritism of their parents had caused the schism. Death was very final.

      CHAPTER THREE

      LAURA sat on the sole lounge chair on her minuscule balcony, gazing at the narrow wedge of the sea visible from her third floor flat. The evening was pleasant. She’d put on a baggy T-shirt to sleep in, brought out a glass of white wine and propped her feet on the railing. No one could see her as she sat in the darkness. It was one of her favorite times of the day. As the ocean breeze cooled the night air, she let her thoughts drift. Time and again they returned to Jed Brodie and the ambivalent feelings she had around him. She didn’t like him. He reminded her of what she wanted to forget. Yet she felt sadness for his loss. Despite his relationship with his brother, it had to hurt when a sibling died. Laura was an only child, but she could use her imagination.

      She knew better than to give into her softer side. Jed wasn’t Jordan. A man less needful of someone fussing over him she hadn’t met. She’d fallen for Jordan fast and lived to regret it. Could she trust her judgment about men? Especially Brodie men?

      Yet she was not one to sugarcoat things. She’d been attracted to him. His tanned features looked rugged and masculine. The way he’d looked at her with those dark eyes, as if she was the only thing to focus on, she had one hundred percent of his attention when he looked at her. She shivered in memory.

      Her phone rang. She went inside and got her portable, returning to the balcony as she clicked it on.

      “This is Laura,” she said, settling down again.

      “Is it too late to call?”

      She recognized Jed’s voice instantly. Suddenly she was fully alert, on edge. Why was he calling?

      “Not at all. What can I do for you?”

      The darkness hid all things. She could talk to him and keep her secrets.

      There was a moment of silence on the other end.

      “Jed?”

      “This is probably a bad idea,” he said.

      “What is?”

      “Calling to ask you about Jordan. You probably have a million things to do.”

      “Actually I’m sitting on my balcony enjoying the night air. Where are you?”

      “In a hotel room without a view. One of the last ones left and lucky to get that, according to the desk clerk. The television has nothing on it to warrant my attention. After eighteen months in Brazil, you’d think I’d have plenty to catch up on. I don’t know anyone in town except my parents and you. And I guess that’s a tenuous connection at best.”

      “What can I tell you?”

      “How he was these last few months. What he was interested in. Besides you, of course. Was he happy?”

      She took a sip of her wine, stalling. She didn’t want to remember the last few months. “I think Jordan had the capability of being happy no matter what. He never seemed to take anything seriously enough to impact his outlook on life. It was one of the things about him that appealed to me. I worry about the gallery, worry about keeping a steady flow of quality artwork coming in and selling. Worry about taxes and the weather and lots of things. Jordan never did. And when I was with him, I’d forget and have fun.”

      It was what she missed most about him, she realized.

      “Yeah, he had an optimistic outlook that didn’t quit,” Jed said slowly.

      “He used to make me mad sometimes, never thinking the worst would come. But he was so often right, the worst didn’t happen. He had a lot of friends, none close that I know of, but plenty to hang out with, go clubbing, or sailing. He loved being around people—which surprised me a little,” she said slowly. She was again coming to realize some things that should have given her clues to the real Jordan.

      “Why’s that?”

      “Most of the artists I know are content to be their own best friend. Jordan had scads of friends. He was not a loner.”

      “We were different in that aspect. Actually we were different in many ways, not just that. He always seemed to have a flair for making friends. From the time we were in elementary school together, he had a circle of friends for any occasion.”

      “Did you?”

      “I had a few friends. Hung on the outskirts of his groups if I didn’t have anyone to hang out with. He was generous that way.”

      “He was freehanded. I wish…” Laura trailed off.

      “What?”

      “That I had appreciated how he was before he died. I think I wanted him to change, and of course no one can change once they are a certain age—unless they wish it. I loved his carefree attitude, but wanted him to be more practical. I loved going to parties with him, yet yearned for quiet evenings at home. What does that say about me?”

      “That you wanted a balanced life, not all one-sided.”

      “You make that sound nicer than I think it was.” Not that any of it mattered once she’d discovered him in bed with that woman. She closed her eyes, wishing she had another memory to supplant that one. It was the worst one she could remember him by.

      “You’re at the hotel?” she said a minute later. “Why aren’t you staying at your parents’ house? Or staying at the cottage? Your mother rents that cottage, you could stay there.”

      “Let’s just say it’s easier to come and go if there are no family dynamics to get in the way.”

      Laura frowned. What did that mean? “Did you get a lot done today?”

      Again there was a pause. Laura could hear rustling in the background. Suddenly she wondered if he had gotten ready for bed as she had. Was he in boxers, or nothing at all? Jordan had slept in the nude, did his brother?

      Her heart raced as her thoughts veered away from the conversation. Dragging them back, she chastised herself for the wayward ideas. Jed was Jordan’s brother!

      “I went through his clothes, packed them all in bags. There weren’t as many ghosts