“What about his hands?”
“Gloves.”
“And the hammer?”
“Red handle with a black rubber grip. Smooth nose, not grilled like the second one.”
He nodded.
“I could feel how much he’d gotten off on the killing. But then, right after, there was this awful sense of grief. Heartbreak. It was like two different people. And I remember him thinking how much he hated cleaning up afterward.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.” I blinked at him. “Could your brother have had multiple personalities or something?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
He sighed and leaned back on the sofa.
“Do you think he’ll try to kill me, Mason?”
He looked at me like he was going to give me some bullshit reassurance that he didn’t believe, but when he met my eyes, he gave up on that and offered me honesty instead. “I don’t know, Rachel. I’m gonna try to find him before he has the chance.”
I nodded. “Can’t ask for more than that.” I got some clean clothes, even though I’d been told earlier that I couldn’t take anything from the house. I knew he figured that bridge had been burned by now. Still, I didn’t want to cause him more trouble, so I was careful to leave everything exactly the way it had been the night before. Even rinsed the wineglasses and put them away.
When I joined him on the couch again, he reached for the remote, flicked on the television set and slid a little closer to me. I don’t know when he put his arm around me and I leaned my head over on his shoulder, but that was the way we were when I woke up to the sun streaming in through the windows and my sister yelling at me through the front door. I was stunned when I went outside to find David Heart standing there beside her.
“Where did you go, Rachel? I was worried sick when I woke up and found you gone!” That was Sandra.
David was talking at the same time. “Why are there police here? And who the hell is that guy?”
I looked past him. Sure enough, a cop car was pulling into the drive. Thankfully Mason’s partner, Rosie, was the one behind the wheel, and he was alone.
“Don’t act all proprietary with me, David. We’ve had three dates.” I called Myrt, and she jumped into action for once, joining me outside the door but carefully skirting the spot where Mott had been lying. Just like Mason and I did.
Mason pulled the door closed behind us, and we all moved down the steps and onto the lawn.
“Was he here all night?” David was yelling now.
Sandra blinked and turned to him. “Did you not get the part about the three dates? And shouldn’t you be more concerned about what happened last night that warranted an overnight with a cop?”
“What’s going on, Rachel?” David said, after a dismissive look at my sister that effectively ended our relationship. Not that there had ever been one.
I took his arm, moved him aside and said, “David, what the fuck are you doing at my front door at this hour of the morning? No, wait never mind. It doesn’t matter. I have a lot going on here. It was fun going out with you, but I think it’s safe to say we’re not compatible. I’ll see you at group, okay?”
He blinked as if I was speaking in tongues or something. “You’re breaking up with me?”
“We’re not going steady, David. We had three dates. I’m just saying there won’t be a fourth.”
“Is it because of him?”
I gaped, then clamped my jaw. “Go home, David. I’ve got my hands full here.”
He stared at me, first hurt, then angry. Angry enough to send a chill down my spine. But he finally turned and stomped to his car, then spun the tires and left. I shook my head and wondered if the cops should maybe get a cast of those tire tracks, then I glanced toward Mason.
He met my eyes and nodded just once. Flawless communication. It would be done. I smiled my thanks and went to deal with my sister.
* * *
Mason’s relief showed up right behind Rosie, while Rachel was arguing with her sister and just after the jerk she’d been dating had left in an angry hurry. Fortunately they were both outside by then, trying to look like they’d never been otherwise.
He said his goodbyes and headed in to drop off the tire tread rubbing.
Dammit, he liked the woman. He liked her spunk, her sarcasm, her wit, and he found her sexy as the devil. There had been some serious chemistry going on last night on that sofa. Hell, there’d been serious chemistry going on since they’d met, but he knew following up on it was a bad idea. More than bad. Idiotic. Suicidal. She was a suspect, though she was going to be cleared, if only because he’d helped her cover up the evidence. Oddly he felt less guilty about that than he did about hiding his brother’s ugly truth. Maybe because he knew Rachel was innocent. Didn’t doubt it. Hadn’t in a while now.
And now he had the weekend off, and he had the boys coming over to help him unpack, and spend the night. He’d invited Rachel and she was going to come over, too, unless all this chaos had changed her plans. The search warrant for her house would either come through in his absence or it wouldn’t. He needed this downtime. He needed it badly.
And the boys needed him.
Before he left, he managed to pull Rachel aside long enough to tell her not to let herself be alone for a while. Not until they got to the bottom of this whole thing. She made a face, and he knew she wasn’t loving the idea. “Fiercely independent” was a term people threw around a lot, but in her case it fit. Especially the fierce part.
He went to the station to clock out twenty hours after his shift had begun, mentally counted up the overtime pay and drove back to his new home in Castle Creek.
He drove his aging big black beast along the rutted dirt driveway, past the weed patch of a lawn and right up to the lonely little farmhouse, fantasizing about adding a four-wheel drive vehicle to the “family” and turning that big barn out back into Taj Ma Garage. The hills that surrounded the place were lined in deep green pines with patches of hardwoods here and there, mostly bare now, but they’d been vivid only a few days ago. Beyond the trees, the sun was climbing into a blue sky. But the peace that usually settled over him when he arrived here was lacking this morning. He was worried. His secret wasn’t a secret anymore. Rachel knew the truth about his brother, about the evidence he’d hidden. And while he didn’t think she would tell, he didn’t really know her well enough to be sure of that, did he?
So why was he more worried about her than about the damage she could do to his life?
Didn’t make sense, but there it was. He was worried about her.
This being his case, he probably should have taken her in already for questioning, whether as a suspect or simply because a body had landed literally on her doorstep. It was probably going to look fishy if he didn’t do it soon.
He knew she didn’t have anything to do with the murders, but he had yet to come up with an explanation for what she knew and how she knew it.
He glanced down at the book on the seat. He’d read the entire thing nearly twice through, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t dismiss the possibility that there might some truth to it. Maybe it was time to give Dr. Vosberg another call.
He shut off the engine and headed into the barn to move his brother’s truck. The boys would be over later, and there was no point having it in plain sight and reminding them of their loss. He drove it into the garage-slash-shed attached to the house, red and white like the barn, all of it peeling, and closed the double doors. Then he headed into the house and tried to distract himself by starting to do some unpacking. Within an hour Marie showed up to drop the boys off. If he hadn’t heard her car, the sound of cattle stampeding over the front porch would have been a dead giveaway.
Joshua barreled through the front door first and plowed into him for a hug, almost taking him down in the process. “This is such a cool place, Uncle Mason! The barn is awesome. Can we explore in there?”
“Sure you can,” Marie said w
ithout asking him first. She was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, one hand on her baby bump. Jeremy was a few steps ahead of her, dwarfing the kitchen with his height. He had to be six-two already. He’d really grown over the summer. “Jeremy, take your brother out to the barn.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I came to help Uncle Mason move in, not babysit.”
“I don’t need a babysitter! I’m almost twelve, for cripe’s sake.”
“Easy, boys. I’ll go with you. I haven’t explored the whole thing myself, so I don’t know for sure how safe it is yet.”
Marie lifted her brows. “I should have asked first. Sorry, Mason.”
“It’s fine. You boys can check out the rest of the house if you want,” Mason said, and Joshua was gone like a shot. Jeremy shrugged and went after his kid brother, long lazy strides on great big feet that didn’t try to step lightly.
“Thanks for bringing them,” Mason said.
“Thanks for having them.” She looked around the kitchen as she straightened and stepped farther inside, eyeing the red-and-white floor tiles. “It’s nice. Needs some new appliances and a woman’s touch, though.”
“That’s what I’ve got you and Mother for. Any ideas?”
She shrugged, walking through the little kitchen. It was old-fashioned, with white painted cupboards and tan Formica countertops, a double stainless-steel sink with a window behind it, and a giant of a refrigerator from the 1960s that looked and ran like new, according to the Realtor. The range was newer, and he hated it and hoped to find a vintage model to fit in its spot. No dishwasher, no island, nothing fancy. And he liked it that way.
“You going to modernize or go retro? Looks like you could swing either way.”
“Retro, I think. Really old-fashioned.”
“Classic, like your car.” She nodded. “That’s one thing you and your brother had in common, that love of old cars.”
“That we did.”
The sadness came back into her eyes. It rarely went away these days. “I know I said I’d help, but...”
“You go enjoy your weekend,” he said. “I can handle the boys from here. You need some downtime. A little mental health break.”
“Actually, I was thinking about a day at the salon. I just don’t want to saddle you with—”
“There’s no saddling happening here. I’ve been looking forward to spending time with the boys,” he said. “We’ll have a guys’ day, you know?”
“They need it,” she said softly. “And you’re a good man to realize it.”
“I love them, Marie.”
“They love you, too.” She sighed. “Okay, I’m going. Might even get a massage while I’m at it. Walk me out? The lazy bums left their backpacks in the car.”
He nodded and then followed her out the door and over to the minivan, opened the sliding side door and pulled out the two backpacks he found there. “Is that it?”
“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.
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 fem
ale 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?”
Sleep With The Lights On Page 23
