Brown and de Luca Collection, Volume 1

by Maggie Shayne

  “As you well remember.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment. Good. But then he got back to business, scribbling all the information into his notebook. “That’s one. We’ve got dozens to go,” he said softly.

  “I know.”

  “We can’t let ourselves…get distracted.”

  Damn, damn, damn. “You’re right.”

  “If you keep flirting with me, we’re going to.”

  “Flirting with you? You’re kind of full of yourself, aren’t you, Mason?”

  I started to swing off the bed, but he clamped a hand on my arm to keep me in place and said, “No. I’m full of you. You’re close, and you smell good, and I’m having trouble focusing on anything except peeling that T-shirt over your head and—” His eyes were on my boobs, until he closed them and sighed. “I need you to help me stay focused. Just until we catch this guy, and then…”

  “And then?” My voice sounded all whiskey and cigarettes, like Lauren Bacall.

  “And then whatever you say, Rache. Whatever you say, I’m there.”

  I lowered my head to hide the rush of absolute pleasure that swept up into my face. I could really get in deep with this guy. My inner bitch was right about that. It wasn’t just sex. I could put off the sex. But the rest of this, whatever this was, it wasn’t put-offable. He was getting under my skin. Deep. I hadn’t really understood that before, had I?

  Not like I did right now.

  “Okay, Mason. Okay.” I moved his hand away, cursing the fact that it was necessary. Then I reached behind me for the little silky robe on the bedpost and draped it over me like a blanket. A thin silk blanket. “I’m a little chilly,” I said.

  “Yeah, I could tell.” He met my eyes, and his were full of mischief.

  Damn, maybe I was already into him deeper than I’d known. I picked up a brownie and shoved it into his mouth, then dragged my focus back to my laptop. “Let’s see who’s next.” As I searched, finding names, addresses and organs, and gaping over the personal details people shared online, I asked, “What are we going to do with this information once we have it? I mean, we’re up here safe and sound. But they’re out there like sitting ducks.”

  “I’ve got that covered. The chief knows we’re piecing together this list. If we finish before he gets his warrant, I’m gonna fax him our list. He’ll contact the local cops in each area, and have them go out and have a frank talk with the potential victims, suggest they leave town for a while and keep their whereabouts to themselves until we get this guy off the streets.”

  I nodded, glad no one was trying to play this close to the vest when there were lives at stake. “Does he know you have the master list of which organs went to which hospitals?”

  “I didn’t tell him. He didn’t ask.”

  “But if he had, you could’ve been in trouble.”

  “Not as much trouble as those organ recipients might be.”

  I nodded and looked at him. Just looked. At his cheekbones, his jaw, the dark whiskers coming in that would feel like heaven on my skin. “You’re really just a good person, aren’t you?”

  “You say that like you’re surprised.”

  “No, I mean a really, truly good person. There aren’t that many, you know.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think you’re a little bit of a cynic, Rache. There are more of us than you think there are.”

  “Not in my experience.”

  “No? Well, let’s count, shall we? You have your sister, her husband, their girls. They’re all good people, aren’t they?”

  “The best.”

  “And then there’s your assistant. Amy’s good people, too, right?”

  “It’s safe to say all the people in my life are good. They wouldn’t be in my life otherwise. But out there—” I looked toward the window “—it’s different. Out there everybody has an angle, everybody wants a piece of you.”

  “Of you, you mean.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And that makes them less than good?”

  “Well…yeah.”

  He just nodded.

  “Why, you think it doesn’t?”

  “Rachel, there’s a light in you. You tend to keep it shaded in person, but it shines bright in your books. That kind of light draws people.”

  “And insects.”

  He smiled. “I think there’s a part of you way down deep where this stuff you write is coming from, and I think it’s real. But it’s your most vulnerable side. You protect it. You hide it behind the tough, sarcastic Rachel you pretend to be. I don’t think people want to douse that light. I think they just want to bask in it a little bit. They just want to soak it up.”

  I was looking at him like he’d sprouted a second head, because he was talking about me as if I was some kind of saint or angel or something, and I wasn’t. Far from it.

  Was that how he saw me?

  Was that really who he thought I was?

  Because if that was the part of me he was attracted to, then he was attracted to a lie. I was not that person. I wasn’t even very nice, deep down.

  I lowered my head, and my throat tightened up for no damn reason.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “I think…the person you think I am bears very little resemblance to the real me, Mason. And that bugs me, because for some screwy reason you’re the only person I want to see the real me, not some idealized version you made up in your head, or the public persona I made up in mine.”

  “Your sixty million readers made her up, too?”

  “I made her up for them.”

  “Then she came from you. I think the only one who’s not seeing the real you is you.”

  I closed my eyes, gave my head a shake. “Can we get back to work before you give me a migraine?”

  “Yeah. Who’s next?”

  Wednesday, December 20

  When I woke, someone was pounding on my bedroom door and Mason was gone. I’d fallen asleep at some point, and I was pretty sure I’d at least been trying to snuggle—surreptitiously, of course.

  I frowned, looking toward the open bathroom door. He wasn’t in there. And our sheafs of papers and notes were gone. My laptop was closed and sitting out of the way on the dresser across the room. Yeah, he’d slipped out on me. The dirty rat.

  The knocking came again, and I groaned, “Go away, I’m sleeping.”

  “Come on, Aunt Rache! Get up.” It was Misty, sounding far too cheerful for this ungodly hour. “Everyone’s getting ready but you.”

  Getting ready for what? was the question.

  I flung my covers back and dragged my pajama-clad ass to the bedroom door, shoving my hands through my hair, which was probably standing on end as it tended to before the first comb of the day. Yeah, tangles entrapped my fingers. Ugh. Finally I opened the door, leaned on it and yawned in my niece’s face.

  “What’s the emergency, Misty?”

  “We’re going to the Northstar for breakfast, and then we’re skiing.” She said it like one would say, “We just won the lottery!” when, in my opinion, the appropriate tone would have been more “We’re going to the dentist.”

  “Skiing, huh?”

  “Yeah, Aunt Rache. Skiing. We’re at a ski resort. People come here to ski. You bought all your new ski-bunny stuff for just that purpose. Remember?”

  I swallowed hard. “Far be it from me to ruin everyone’s good time. You all go on, and I’ll see you around lunchtime.” I started to close the door.

  Misty pushed back, preventing that. “I told Mason you’d try to weasel out of it, but he says you promised to do everything together for the entire trip.” She grinned. “I thought you two had a little something-something going on.”

  “We do not have anything-anything going on.”

 
She thinned her lips and tilted her head to one side.

  “All right,” I said, “there might be a very small thing in its formative stages, but—”

  “I never even got a chance to see the clothes you bought. Did you shop where I told you?”

  “Yes.” I closed my eyes, but she was pushing her way into my room now, opening my closet.

  “Who helped you?”

  “I don’t know. Some redhead.”

  “Char. Great, Char knows her stuff and— Ooh, is this it?”

  She pulled out my brand-new ski outfit, black and white, and very much what a seasoned and competent skier would wear. It would look ridiculous tumbling down the hill with me inside it. It would probably go on strike after day one, if it had any self-respect.

  She threw my ski pants and jacket on the bed. “Where’s your hat and scarf?”

  I just pointed. She went to the dresser, opened the top drawer and pulled them out. “Red. Perfect. Just the dash of color you need with this.” She tossed them on top of the rest. “Look, the jacket has red zippers and pulls. This is super-cute, Aunt Rache. You’re gonna make Mason’s eyeballs pop.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be amazed at my grace.”

  “Don’t be too worried. He can’t ski, either.”

  I looked up, hope lighting a match in the darkness of my heart. “He can’t?”

  “He’s been having the same fits you’re having. All worried about looking stupid in front of you. Not that he said that out loud, of course, but I could tell. You two can laugh at each other. It’ll be fun.”

  Four hours later I had to admit that it had been fun. I’d burned off enough calories to eat whatever I wanted the entire time we stayed, which was gratifying, because, in case it’s not obvious by now, I like to eat. And after an hour on the bunny slope, Mason and I managed to stay upright going down some hills that were a little bit more challenging.

  It was hard to keep the kids in sight, since Jeremy and Misty were experts, at least compared to us. They went whooshing past us on a regular basis. Jeremy had even been smiling once or twice, and it seemed they’d hooked up with another young couple on the slopes, because I saw the four of them together more than once.

  Marie and Josh had opted to stay at the water park down at the lodge. Mason hadn’t liked it, but Marie’s arguments had been logical. They were safe up here. No one knew where they’d gone. They were surrounded by other guests. Angela and Rosie and Marlayna were there to back her up.

  Mason had a chat with Finnegan Smart, the head of security, as an added precaution, asking him to keep an extra eye on Marie and Josh. That was a man I wanted to wrap up and take home, just so I could listen to his brogue day and night.

  We were on yet another run, and I was literally exhausted but couldn’t have wiped the smile off my face with sandpaper. I was doing it! I was skiing, leaning left and right, balancing with ease, speeding—for me—down a moderate slope beneath the bluest blue sky I had ever seen, with the cold air kissing my face and the smell of pine filling my lungs.

  Mason came up from behind and was zooming along beside me, and I glanced his way, saw that he was grinning like a loon, too, and got stuck on him for a heartbeat too long.

  Next thing I knew I was tumbling ass over applecart, as my mother used to say. He tripped over me, and then he was tumbling, too. We came to a stop eventually. I couldn’t believe both my skis were still on as I sat there in the snow, pushing my fallen—but cute—hat up off my face.

  Mason was pushing himself up. He rolled over and looked at me, and his face was covered in snow. I burst out laughing before he brushed it away.

  He was laughing, too.

  Then he got up, got his skis underneath him and made his way over to me. He reached down, I grabbed hold of his gloved hands and he hauled me upright and brushed snow out of my hair, tucking it back under my hat where it belonged, still laughing. My eyes locked on to his, and laughter got stuck in my throat. His hands on my shoulders pulled me just a little, and his head came down. I closed my eyes, and he kissed me. It was slow, and tender, and it lasted a long time, yet not long enough. And then he straightened and said, “You okay?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You want to call it a morning, head down to the lodge for some lunch?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’ll get hold of the kids, then.”

  “Mm-hm.” What had happened to my power of speech? What the hell had that kiss been about? Hadn’t he just told me last night that he didn’t think the timing was right? That he had to make sure we got this killer first, and that—

  He pulled a walkie-talkie out of somewhere. “Where’d you get that?” I asked.

  Right, your ability to speak is finally restored and that’s the question you ask?

  “It’s Josh’s. He loaned one to me for the morning. Jeremy has the other one.”

  “Smart thinking.”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll grab another set, maybe two sets, if they have them in the ski shop. Handy as hell. But these are meant for kids. Not much range.” He depressed a button. “Jer, you read me?”

  He waited a few seconds, then tried again.

  This time Jeremy replied. “Gotcha. What’s up?”

  “Ready to head down for a lunch break?”

  “Yeah, we’re starved. Meet you by the lifts.”

  Mason nodded and replaced the radio. Then he turned to me again, and his eyes got all funny. Like he was trying to think of what he should say but not coming up with anything. He started to speak twice, then stopped again.

  I figured I might as well help him out. “So what did that kiss mean, Mason?”

  He blinked. “I don’t know. I was just being in the moment. You know, like your books always say to be.” He looked down the trail, not at me. The lodge wasn’t too far away. “Did you mind?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “So then we’re good.”

  “Yeah, I just…” Just want to know what’s next. Are you going to kiss me again? Are we dating now? Was it a one-time thing? Can we have sex tonight?

  “Just what?”

  I shook my head, smiled a little and reminded myself that according to my regurgitated sermons, being in the moment meant just that, doing what felt right and enjoying it without judging it, picking it apart, analyzing it, looking ahead or looking behind. And he would surely throw all of that back at me if I said any of the things I was thinking. So instead I said, “Race you to the bottom,” put a hand on his chest and pushed him. He fell on his ass in the snow, and then I pushed off with my ski poles to get a head start.

  * * *

  A big sign on the glass doors told us that a special holiday lunch was being served, buffet style, in the sunroom. It was a massive glass dome at the end of a long hallway, and it had a nearly 360-degree view of the mountains and pines around the lodge. And even with that, you couldn’t see another home or business. Nothing but the lodge and its various structures, a few of the outlying cabins, like ours, which was a long walk or a short drive along one of the many narrow, winding roads.

  The four of us hung our jackets and ski pants in the designated area and trooped inside, spotting Marie at a large table with that same man I’d noticed her looking at in the group of carolers last night.

  Mason nudged me with an elbow. “That’s the guy she was talking to in the water park the night we checked in.”

  “He was with the carolers, too. I thought it looked as if she knew him.”

  She saw us at the same time and waved us over.

  I smiled back at her, and leaned closer to Mason. “Look at her. She looks…better.”

  “Jeremy doesn’t.”

  I glanced past him at Jeremy. He looked ready to bite nails in half. Misty closed her hand on his forearm, and whispered something to him.
He nodded once and seemed to relax a little as we all headed for the table.

  “Josh and Angela are already in line,” Marie said, nodding toward the steady flow of traffic past the buffet in the center of the room. “This is all gratis. I love this place.”

  The dark-haired man got to his feet. “Hello again, Mason.” He offered a hand. Mason shook it, but he looked about as impressed as Jeremy did.

  “I don’t think we’ve met,” I said. “I’m Rachel.”

  “Scott Douglas.” He took my hand. Firm, but not too firm. Dry, warm. Perfectly normal hand. I was trying to compare its size to the one that had reached for me from behind that day in my car, the one that had jammed a needle into my shoulder, and decided this guy’s hand seemed quite a bit bigger.

  Then again, my attacker had been wearing a black glove, and black tended to make things look smaller, didn’t it?

  “This is my niece Misty, and Jeremy is Marie’s other son.”

  “Hello.”

  “Hi,” Misty said.

  Jeremy tugged his hand from hers and walked away. Not a word, just walked away.

  “I’m sorry, Scott,” Marie said. “I’d better go talk to him.”

  “Why don’t you let me do that, Marie?” Mason said. “It might go better.”

  She held his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Scott, I think—”

  “I actually have to get back,” he said. Guess the guy knew when he wasn’t wanted. It was a shame. I hadn’t seen this much color in Marie’s cheeks before today. “I’ll see you later.” He patted her hand where it lay on the table, but that was all.

  Misty was already jogging over to get in line beside Jeremy, so I decided to sit with Marie.

  “Go ahead, go get food,” she said. “I can hold the table.”

  “I’ll wait with you.” She was staring at her eldest son, so I did likewise. “He’s going to be okay, you know. He was actually smiling out there on the slopes today.”

  She sighed. “I think he likes your niece.”

  “I think she likes him back. You know, there’s nothing like a new romance to heal a broken heart, Marie. I think Misty might be just the right medicine for Jeremy.” And this Scott character, assuming he’s not an organ thief, might be just the right medicine for Marie.