Out of Control by Stephanie Feagan Page A

definitely aged well.
    He reached the table and held out his hand to shake mine. “My name’s Cole Fox.”
    Fox. Not Sharpe. So he wasn’t Dylan’s father. I let go of his hand. “I’m Blair Drake.
     What can I do for you?”
    “I’m looking for my brother. He called late yesterday and said he was heading for
     a well fire close to Iraan, but I haven’t been able to get hold of him since.”
    “Who’s your brother?”
    “He’s got some…problems, and may be in trouble. It’s very important that I find him.”
    “ Who is your brother?”
    “His name is Parnell. Parnell Harkness.”

Chapter Four
    The names didn’t match. I frowned.
    He guessed my thoughts and said, “We have different fathers.”
    My mama raised me to handle awkward situations with grace and aplomb. Any awkward situation—even telling a man I was responsible for his brother’s death. I
     could hear her soft, gentle drawl deep within my subconscious. “Blair,” she’d say,
     sounding like Blayuh, “we do what we must and stand by it with beautiful manners.”
     Granted, my three sisters learned Mama’s lessons with much more of an avid interest
     and proclivity for living them, but even black sheep get the message if it’s repeated
     often enough.
    Stepping around the worktable, I briefly explained what happened. I didn’t apologize
     for killing his brother. That would be a lie, because I wasn’t the least bit sorry.
     Instead, I said, “Your brother was clearly a disturbed man, Mr. Fox, and I’m sorry
     for you and your family’s loss.”
    His handsome face had the expression of one resigned to the inevitable. He met my
     gaze and said solemnly, “Parnell was my only family. Our mother died several years
     ago and both of our fathers are long gone.” He ran a hand through his brown hair and
     shook his head slowly, turning his gaze toward the fire. “He was always fascinated
     with fires, ever since he was a little kid.” Then he looked at me with tears gathering
     in his appealing brown eyes. “Where is…where did they take him?”
    “Midland.” I leaned against the table. “There’s a good chance the FBI guys will want
     to talk to you.”
    “I can’t help them. Parnell never told me anything because he knew I’d stop him. Been
     like that since we were in boarding school. He got into some trouble, and after that,
     if I knew he was up to something I ratted on him to keep him from doing it again.”
    “What did he do?”
    His sigh said he’d been over this territory many times before. “He and a couple of
     buddies built a small bomb and set it off in a trash can. The trash contained some
     aerosol cans, which made the explosion much bigger than they anticipated and the fire
     burned the dormitory to the ground.” He dabbed at the perspiration beading his perfect
     forehead. “The housemother was killed and three students seriously injured.”
    I was too shocked to say anything.
    “One of his friends was the son of a rich Arab who paid to rebuild the dorm, plus
     a new library. The other friend’s daddy gave the school a huge donation. Both of them
     got off scot free. Parnell was expelled. They’d have brought charges against him,
     except he was too young.” Cole looked at the fire again. “Our mother wasn’t one to
     deal with anything, and instead of getting him some help, she enrolled us in a different
     school. Out of sight, out of mind. I’ve often wondered if he might have been different
     if he’d had help back then.” Once again, he met my gaze. “Guess it doesn’t matter
     now.”
    I heard a vague tone of censure in his voice and, despite his loss, it made me angry.
     His brother was responsible for the deaths of all the men on that Maresco platform,
     as well as an entire shrimping crew. He’d tried to kill me. And he killed Deke. My
     sympathy was less than nil, and for damn sure I wasn’t going to apologize for killing
     a man in self defense. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got