“Yeah, that’s all.” She got in, sending him a wave and looking at least a little bit relieved, he thought.
“I’ll see you tomorrow when I bring them home. Bye, Marie. Try to have a good day today, all right?”
“I will. Thanks again, Mason.” And then she was pulling away, and he was heading through the front door and kicking it shut behind him.
The boys were in the kitchen waiting for him, so he slung their backpacks at them. “So, whattaya think of the place?”
“I think I want to see that barn,” Josh said.
Jeremy elbowed him. “It’s awesome, Uncle Mason. You’ve got a ton of room. You planning to get married and have kids or something?”
“Not in this lifetime, Jer.”
“That’s a relief.”
“You should get a dog or something, then,” Josh put in. “A dog would love it here.”
A dog. Hell, that wasn’t a bad idea. He’d never been able to have one as a kid, because his parents would never let him. The suggestion brought Rachel’s chubby little bulldog to mind, and he caught himself smiling a little.
His cell phone chirped, and he pulled it out, immediately feeling dread pooling in his chest. Had something happened to Rachel?
Rosie’s smiling mug was on his screen and he tapped to answer and brought the phone to his ear. “What’s up, partner?”
“Got that search warrant for Ms. de Luca’s place. Inside and out. Thought you’d want to be the one to tell her. Team’s on the way over there now.”
“They need me to lead it?”
“Chief’s taking the lead himself.”
That didn’t feel right. Felt like maybe the chief was already wondering about him and Rachel. Or maybe he was just being paranoid. “Can you go along, Rosie? Make sure it goes down as easy as possible, don’t let her stuff get trashed.”
“All over that, my friend. You gonna call her?”
“Yeah, I’ll do it now. Thanks for the heads-up.” He sighed, eyeing the boys and then the phone. Rachel was going to have a shit fit about the cops pawing through her stuff, even though she knew they needed to find that hammer if they hoped to use whatever evidence might be on it. He couldn’t risk her blurting out something she shouldn’t in a moment of frustration.
“You guys ever meet a famous writer before?”
“No,” they chimed in unison.
Jeremy had literary aspirations himself, so this ought to be an easy sell. “You want to?” he asked.
CHAPTER 16
My attorney had earned his pay by telling me the cops had no right to keep me out of my own home, and that he’d convinced the chief I couldn’t very well eliminate evidence with a cop watching the place. He told me not to start a fire in the fireplace, so as not to set off any suspicions, though.
I didn’t bother telling him that I’d already burned all the evidence necessary, so I wouldn’t have to.
By eleven the police were at the door with their promised search warrant, and my nemesis wasn’t even among them. Even though I knew this was coming, that it was the way it had to go, I still wanted to bite nails in half as I stood there holding the door open but blocking it with my body.
My phone rang. I already had it in my hand. Glancing down at the screen and seeing Mason Brown’s name, I held up a finger at the waiting jackbooted thugs, closed the door and took the call.
“Rachel, it’s Mason. How are things?”
“Fine, if you don’t count the army of Nazis demanding entrance into my house. ”
“Yeah, I was calling to warn you. Your lawyer couldn’t hold them off any longer.”
I sighed. “Mason, am I a suspect or not?”
“No. No, you’re not. At least not as far as I’m concerned. You have nothing to hide, right?”
“Not that I know of, but if you recall—” I lowered my voice to a whisper “—I didn’t know about what we found in the garage last night, either. How do we know this lunatic didn’t plant something in my house?”
“Your alarm system was still activated. That’s probably why he left it in the garage and not the house. The garage door isn’t wired. Just the one from the garage to the house. Something you should remedy, by the way.”
“Yeah. I’m adding it to the list.” I sighed. “Mason, what if he knew the code? What if he switched the system off and back on again? What if he put something else here to make me look even more guilty?”
“He didn’t. The alarm hadn’t been switched off all night.”
My brows bent until they touched. “How do you know that?”
“We checked with the company.”
“And they just told you?”
“We didn’t ask for anything sensitive enough to worry them. And for what it’s worth, Rachel, that bit of information has you cast in the role of potential target more than suspect. That’s a good thing.”
“None of this is a good thing, Mason.”
He sighed into the phone. I imagined I felt the warm breath of it on my ear, then batted the thought away. “What should I do?” God, did I sound enough like a helpless female yet?
“Tell them to search the place with your blessings, that you’ve been terrified by all this, that you think you might be in danger, and then—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to lie to make them feel sorry for me.”
He drew a breath. “Are you saying you’re not terrified and don’t think you might be in danger? Because if that’s true, you’re a fool, Rachel. And I know you’re no fool.”
I took a deep breath, and for the first time considered that he might be right. I mean, I didn’t like admitting it, I didn’t like even thinking about it, but if there was any chance this guy might come after me, then I really ought to be scared. And he kind of was doing that already, right?
A chill went up my spine, and I resented the hell out of Mason for putting it there. “So I tell them to go ahead and search, tell them I’m afraid I might be in danger, and then…?”
He paused for a beat too long, then said, “Then come over here.”
“Over…where?”
“My place. I invited you to help me unpack and move in, remember? And I already know you have the address.” That last bit was delivered with just a hint of teasing sarcasm.
It was my turn to pause for a beat too long. “Um, Mason, I don’t know what’s…you know, I’m not looking for…um…”
“My nephews are here. We’re unpacking and getting the place into some kind of livable state. We’re ordering pizza and wings for lunch. You’ll be safe here, and not sitting there stewing and feeling violated every time an officer opens a drawer.”
I lowered my head. He wasn’t up to anything. I wondered why I felt disappointed instead of relieved. “What are you getting on the pizza?”
“Hold on.” Then I heard a muffled yell. “Guys, what do you want on your pizza?” followed by a jumbled multipart reply that included ham and pineapple and pepperoni and sausage.
“No mushrooms?” I asked.
“Why? You want mushrooms?”
“I hate mushrooms.”
“So do we.”
I smiled a little bit. “Then you’re on. I’ll see you in a little while.”
“Rachel?”
“Yes?”
“Apply some of the positive Pollyanna crap from your books to the cops outside. It’ll go a long way. Crank that smile up to high beam, okay?”
I sighed, but said, “See you later,” and ended the call. Then I opened my front door. “All right, sorry about that.” I extended a hand to the guy in the suit who seemed to be in charge and put on the same persona I used for all my talk show appearances. “Come on in.”
The cop’s face registered surprise, but then he composed himself to a
ll business again and shook my hand. “Chief Subrinsky, ma’am. I know this is uncomfortable for you, but—”
“Actually, I don’t mind at all, and I apologize for my reluctance earlier. To be honest, Chief, I’m scared to death. I don’t know how I’ve attracted the attention of a serial killer—maybe because of my persistence in trying to find out what happened to my brother. But now that I have, I’m terrified I might be next on his list.”
He frowned a little, but nodded. “We’re going to do our best to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
I stepped back. “Please come in. Search all you want. I hope you don’t mind but I would rather not be here while you do. Would you lock up when you leave?”
“Of course.”
“What about my car? Am I allowed to take it now?”
“Not yet, I’m afraid.”
That pissed me off. I bit back my knee-jerk reply and offered a calmer one. “It’s a collector’s car, as you can tell. Please don’t damage it.”
“We will treat your possessions as carefully as we would our own, ma’am,” the chief said.
Then a more familiar voice said, “I promise, Ms. de Luca, everything will be handled with care.” I smiled when I saw that Mason’s partner was among the cops filing into my domain, and nodded my thanks to Rosie, then turned. “Myrtle? Where are you girl?”
I heard movement from beyond the sofa, and then Myrt dragged her butt into sight, shuffling and hanging her head, eyes only half open.
“You want to go for a ride in the car?”
Her head came up and tilted all the way to one side, ears perking.
“Well, go get your stuff then.”
Turning, she trotted away, and came back with her tinted goggles and pretty yellow scarf in her mouth. The cops all laughed, and several of them bent to pat her as she moved past them, stopping at my feet.
“Come on, dog.” I squatted and gathered her up into my arms, then carried her past the half-dozen men and out to my nieces’ car, which was mine for the day, according to Sandra, though I wasn’t sure Misty or Christy had approved that arrangement.
Nor was I sure they would appreciate the bulldog ass sitting on the plush front seat, but that was the least of my worries just then.
* * *
I showed up at Mason’s with pizza and wings in the backseat, wafting their deliciousness through the car like some kind of ingenious torture device. Halfway there, I’d had another call from Mason to say the local pizza place didn’t deliver, so he wondered if I would mind picking up their order on the way. He’d even reassured me that he’d paid for it over the phone.
And the truth is, I wouldn’t have minded if manners hadn’t dictated that I not pull off onto the shoulder and wolf down a slice or two without them.
As it was, the ten minutes from the little bar-slash-pizza place to Mason’s house were brutal. Myrtle thought so, too. The measure of her discomfort and yearning for a taste was in direct proportion to the length of the drool strand extending from her left lip and about to drop off onto the seat of the twins’ car. I willed it to hang steady as we bounced over the driveway and up to the house. Then the three Y-Chromers were spilling onto the porch and I was too distracted to pay attention.
The older boy was taller than his uncle by a couple of inches, with long arms and wide shoulders, but otherwise skinny. He had a neck like Ichabod Crane with an Adam’s apple I swear was the size of an actual apple. I wouldn’t have known if he was sixteen or twenty-three, to be honest. He had brown hair that was apparently being grown out. It was at that awkward stage where it flipped a little at the ends.
The younger boy was cute as hell. His hair was reddish-brown, shorter, swept all forward into uneven bangs, and he had freckles.
Both boys were smiling, and I was glad to see it, reminding myself that they’d lost their father not long ago.
Their father. A serial killer. God, it was hard to reconcile that with the two ordinary-looking kids in front of me. Going by their smiles, Mason must be doing a good job of keeping their minds off their recent tragedy.
I got out and went around to open the passenger door for Myrtle. She jumped down immediately, the way she always did.
“Oh, man! Is that your dog?” said the younger boy, and he came running, and dropped right down onto the ground in front of Myrt, rubbing her head and ears. Her bottom teeth emerged and she started to wiggle her butt, a sure sign of delight.
“What a cool dog.”
“Her name’s Myrtle.” I bent down to take off her goggles and scarf. She always wore them in the car, even if it was dark. Habit.
“Myrtle!” The boy laughed, and I snapped a leash on her collar, then handed him the other end. “You’re Josh, right?” I asked.
He nodded and took the leash from me.
“Well, Josh, I’m Rachel. Myrtle is old and she’s blind, so you have to lead her wherever she goes.”
“She’s blind? Awww, poor doggy.” He petted her some more, looking sadly at her eyes.
“No, she’s a very happy, very lucky dog. She barely notices that she can’t see. All her other senses make up for it by being much sharper. At home she finds her way around fine. But this is a new place, so she’ll need a guide.”
“I’ll show you around, Myrtle.” Josh stood up, proudly holding the leash. “Come on, come with me.”
Myrt turned her head in my direction. “Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll be right behind you with that pizza you’ve been drooling over.” Oh, yeah, right, drool. I glanced through the still open door and saw the splotch of it on the seat, then yanked a napkin from the stack I’d stuffed in my pocket and wiped it up.
Then I opened the back door to get the pizzas, but by that point Mason and the tall skinny boy were there, and Mason reached past me to pick up the food.
“I’ve got it. Rachel, this is Jeremy. And you’ve already met Josh.”
“Yeah, I think I might have trouble prying my dog away from him, to be honest. Look at that.”
The two followed my gaze. Joshua was picking Myrt’s front paws up one at a time and setting them on the first step, talking to her as he went. I grinned, and my heart went a little soft. Kids and dogs, right? They’ll do it every time. I turned my grin on Jeremy. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Same here.” He looked at Mason. “So are you two, like…dating or something?”
“No!”
We both said it at the same time, with the same horrified inflection and extra volume. I shook my head, then looked at Mason, wondering just what he had told the boys about who I was. I was pretty sure it wasn’t that I was the person who’d wound up wearing their father’s eyes.
Mason started for the house, and Jeremy and I fell into step on either side of him. We caught up to Josh on the front porch as he was easing Myrtle through the door. She didn’t need anywhere near the amount of help he was providing, but she didn’t seem to be minding all the attention.
“Rachel’s had some weird stuff happening out at her place. The police are looking into it,” Mason said. “That’s how we met.”
“That’s not how we met,” I countered. We went inside, and Mason set the pizzas on the table. Jeremy was already dealing paper plates like a round of poker, and Mason headed to the fridge to pull out a two-liter bottle of root beer as Josh escorted Myrtle into the room. So I sat down, as eager as they apparently were. “We met for the first time when your uncle hit me with his car.”
The boys both stopped what they were doing to stare at me. “No way!” Josh said.
“Yeah, but it was my fault. I walked out in front of him. He probably didn’t tell you, but I used to be blind.”
“Just like Myrtle?” Joshua asked.
“Uh-huh. But I had an operation, and now I’m not.”
“Wow.”
“
That’s an understatement.”
Jeremy sat down and opened one of the pizza boxes. Then Josh grabbed the first slice, put it on a paper plate and laid it on the floor in front of Myrtle. I opened my mouth to object, then closed it again. Who was I to argue with a gift like that?
Mason, bringing glasses filled with ice to the table, sent me an Is that okay? look, and I shrugged back an Of course it is reply.
Myrtle sniffed for about a half second, then went to town, and even Jeremy was smiling and shaking his head.
It was a good time, scarfing down pizza and wings and root beer with Mason and his nephews. But I kept thinking, So these are the sons of Mason’s brother the serial killer. Hard to believe. They were normal. They were great kids, actually. I mean, animals know these things, right? Myrtle was practically claiming Joshua as her own puppy before the meal had ended, and I didn’t think it was entirely because he’d plied her with pizza.
After lunch she stuck to him like glue while the three of them showed me around the place, and then we argued good-naturedly about the placement of the living room furniture, all of it brand-new. Some pieces still had bits of plastic clinging to them. And that reminded me that Mason’s brother—the boys’ father—had shot himself on Mason’s old couch.
Okay, all right, I got it. I got why he couldn’t tell them the truth. I got why he hid the suicide note. I met his eyes, and saw him wondering, and I gave just the slightest nod to tell him that yeah, I understood now.
You couldn’t tell a kid like Joshua that his dad had been a murderer. Who could do something like that? And Jeremy’s head would melt if he ever knew. Being a teenager was hard enough.
Yeah, Mason had done the right thing. He’d done the only thing he could have. I really believed that. The only thing he could possibly have done. I couldn’t be angry at him for that.
We unpacked for hours. I mean hours, and I put myself in charge of the list of must-haves as we went along. Top thing on it was curtains. He had maybe three sets from his apartment, and they were not only ugly but too small for any of the windows. Besides which, he had a lot more windows to cover now.
Brown and de Luca Collection, Volume 1 Page 24
