Shallow Grave: Grant Wolves Book 2
Page 5
Time. That was what she needed. What they both needed. If only she hadn’t learned the hard way just how precious that time was—and how unexpectedly it could run out.
By the time Chris finished cleaning up the mess and ate his remade sandwich, he didn’t have any time to waste before seeking out his mother. Cleaning up had helped to clear his head and given him time to process what Joey had done. Or at least start processing it. He still didn’t understand why she’d done what she’d done, but he knew that no amount of confrontation was going to pry it out of her. The woman was stubborn as a mule and would just in dig her heels more. Another tactic was in order. He didn’t know what that was, but… he’d figure it out.
Regardless, it was a Future Chris problem. The more immediate concern was the impending visit from Detective Harding, the veteran gumshoe that’d been assigned to his murder case.
Chris caught up with his mother in her office upstairs, where she spent much of her time. Her study downstairs was more for formal meetings, particularly ones with visitors. This room was her sanctuary, full of books, art, and her collection of priceless antiquities from around the world. The last time he’d visited the room had been as a spirit, unintentionally spying on her in a vulnerable moment of grief. The memory flashed behind his eyes as he rapped his knuckles on the open door to announce his presence.
“Hey, Mom, Joey said you wanted to talk to me before the detective gets here.”
Adelaide looked up from her laptop and smiled warmly. “Come in, my dear.”
“Open or closed?” He pointed at the door.
“Open is fine,” she said, rising to walk around the desk. She received him with a hug. “I can’t possibly express how wonderful it is to have you back, son.”
“It’s good to be back,” he replied, giving her a squeeze and lifting her off the ground in the process.
She laughed and swatted his shoulder. “Put me down.” He did, but rather than returning to the other side of her desk, she sat in one of the chairs arrayed in front of it. Chris took the other one.
“I’ve given a lot of thought to what we should tell the detective,” he began.
“Oh?”
“Is that surprising? I mean, you didn’t exactly give me anything else to do…” He tried to keep the annoyance from his voice, but failed. He’d spent the last two days sitting on his hands, unable to leave for fear someone might recognize him, and unable to contribute to the cover-up effort because he couldn’t leave. If he hadn’t slipped out the back after dark each evening to let his wolf run, he might’ve gone completely stir crazy.
Adelaide quirked a brow, one corner of her mouth turning up just a fraction higher than the other. She didn’t apologize, but she did sit back in her chair, arms draped along the arms. Her green eyes regarded him expectantly. Everything about her posture screamed, “Impress me.”
He swallowed, appropriately intimidated. “Well, given that the police found my keys, wallet, and phone with my—the—body, the simplest explanation is that they were stolen. But since I didn’t report the theft, I can say I didn’t know they had been. I left my jacket at a club by mistake, and planned to go back for it later. Someone must’ve swiped it, or gone through the pockets before I did. As for where I’ve been, that’s a little trickier. Kidnapping would spark a whole other investigation.”
“Mmmhmm. Obviously not ideal.”
“So I thought, how else can I explain dropping off the face of the earth? I went on a week-long bender with strangers? I shacked up with some random chick for a while? No one who knows me would believe either of those.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs. “Then I remembered the boat. Jon’s boat.”
Adelaide arched a brow. “Go on.”
“The marina isn’t far from the Gaslamp Quarter. Maybe I decided to crash there for the night when I realized I didn’t have my keys, wallet, or phone. I was drunk, wasn’t sure where I’d left my coat, and decided to sort it out in the morning. The next day, I decided to take the boat out instead. It’s always stocked with essentials, so there’d be food and water. I know where the spare keys are hidden. I could just tell him I felt a need to escape for a while. Some sort of personal crisis.”
“Hmm. I suppose Samuel could grease a few palms at the marina so their records would back up your claim.” Adelaide gave him a considering look and smiled. “You have your mother’s sharp mind. Jeanette’s, I mean. You may be the spitting image of Henry, but there is a lot of Jeanette in you.”
Chris blinked, more because the compliment was unexpected than because of the reference to his birth parents. “Thanks,” he said, smiling gently. Adelaide had never made him feel any less her son, but she’d always made sure that he knew where he came from over the years. It was one reason he remained a Martin, even after his legal adoption as a child. “I like to think they’d be proud of me. Maybe not for boosting Jon’s boat and dropping off the grid for a week, but…”
Adelaide chuckled. “They would be very proud of the man you’ve become, Christopher. I know I am.”
Twice praised, Chris’s face heated and he sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. So, you think it’ll work?”
“If we sell it properly, it’ll work.”
“We?”
Adelaide smiled and stood. “You didn’t think I’d make you meet with the detective on your own, did you? Unless he insists upon a private interview, I’ll be there.”
Chris blew out a relieved sigh. “Thanks, Mom. I didn’t realize quite how much I’d been dreading it until now.”
“You might want to hold off on thanking me until it’s over. Remember what I said about selling it?”
Chris looked up at her, still seated. “Yeah?”
“How do you think I’d react if you hared off for a week in your brother’s boat without a word to us, and as a result we ended up thinking you were dead?” A hint of steel had crept into her voice, and her eyes suddenly pinned him to his chair.
Chris’s eyes widened. He swallowed and rubbed his palms against his thighs. “Uh. Not great.” Why did he have the sudden urge to apologize, even though he hadn’t actually done anything wrong?
Adelaide’s expression softened, and she smiled again. “Good, exactly like that. Sell it.”
Chris stood with a chuckle he didn’t quite feel and embraced his mother again. “Should we head downstairs?”
She gave him a squeeze, then stepped back. “Not just yet. There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”
Chris watched her walk back around behind her desk. She settled in her office chair, and he resumed his seat, this time across the desk from her.
“The time has come for us to move on.”
“Move on? What do you mean?”
“It’s time that we make our home somewhere else, somewhere new, before we draw unwanted attention.”
Chris frowned. “Unwanted attention, like your son returning from the dead?”
“I won’t deny that the attention we’re about to receive from the police is a factor. I pray we don’t attract the media’s attention as well. That could be very bad for us.”
“So, everyone’s being uprooted and it’s all my fault.”
Adelaide shook her head. “Consider the bigger picture, Christopher. You know we can only remain in one place for so long before humans begin to notice we aren’t aging at the expected pace. We’ve been in San Diego for almost thirty years. It’s time—past time, really—for a fresh start.”
Chris still didn’t like it, but her reasoning was solid. He and Joey were young. They could probably make it in San Diego another ten or fifteen years before people started wondering why they didn’t quite look their age. But the rest of the family… She was right; it was about that time. There was a time not long ago that he would have happily remained behind with Joey for a few more years. She’d probably enjoy the independence, and he would’ve been content wherever she was. Now, like it or not, the landscape had changed.
�
��Where?” he asked, rather than protesting further.
“Washington state. Seattle, specifically.”
Seattle. He didn’t doubt she’d picked the city of his birth on purpose. This move really was all about him, no matter how she dressed it up. Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “When?”
“I need to finish out the semester here, so that puts us at December at the earliest.”
“What about Emma? Her trial is in January. Jon needs to be here for that, and I’m not going to abandon her. I’m going to testify, if that’ll help her case.”
Adelaide’s lips pressed together at that last bit, but she didn’t challenge it. “We’ll make sure Emma is taken care of. Josephine has already made it clear that keeping her safe is a priority, and if you wish to hold off until after the trial, I’m sure that can be arranged.”
Some of the tension flowed out of Chris’s shoulders, and he nodded, grateful for that. “Thank you.”
“In the meantime, I’d like you and Josephine to fly out there and get the lay of the land.”
“No,” Chris said, meeting her eyes.
Adelaide’s brows lifted, a glimmer of surprise cracking her austere features. “Why not?”
He should’ve expected the question, but Chris shifted his eyes to the window for a moment before answering. Why not, indeed. On one hand, the trip could be just what they needed to sort things out. But if not… it’d simply be miserable, and he couldn’t tell her why. Anger and heartache tied his stomach in knots.
“Christopher?”
He must’ve been taking too long to reply. Chris dragged his eyes from the window. “Because my life has been turned upside down, and for the last two days, all I’ve wanted is to get back to living it. Maybe you’re right. Maybe a fresh start will be good for me, but I’m not running away from my problems.”
Adelaide studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Very well. Samuel will go with her.”
Chris bit his cheek to keep from smirking. She’d get no pushback from Sam.
Adelaide stood, and Chris rose automatically in response. Rejoining him on the other side of the desk, she linked her arm with his and steered him toward the door.
“I know you’re going through a lot right now, Christopher. But this really will be a good thing for us. For all of us.”
He hoped she was right.
5
Three months later
Chris arrived in Seattle on a Thursday. Despite the novelty of being somewhere he’d never been before, his heart was heavy. Emma’s sentence had been handed down less than forty-eight hours prior, and he was still processing. One year wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but the idea of his gentle-hearted friend spending it in a state penitentiary was troubling at best. At least she’d be safe. He hoped.
Despite Jon and Sara’s continued reassurance that her downfall wasn’t his fault, they couldn’t deny that he’d played a part. Hell, he’d been the one to suggest setting up the bank account in the first place, ignorant of just what it might mean if Emma was caught impersonating him.
On top of it all, he was more than a little anxious about reuniting with Joey. There was more distance between them than ever; they’d barely spoken in months. She’d spent most of that time in Seattle with Sam, handling the myriad details involved in relocating the whole family. Would she even bother coming to the airport to greet him? Did he want her to? Shouldering his carry-on, he scanned the sea of waiting faces as he followed Jon and Sara to baggage claim.
Sam was easy to spot; his close-cropped auburn hair stood out in the crowd. Chris’s eyes tracked downward and found Joey standing next to Sam with her fingers tucked into the back pockets of her jeans. She too was searching the crowd, but hadn’t spotted him yet. He watched while she rose up on the balls of her feet and back down again, a restless movement mirrored in her roving eyes.
Then it happened, as inevitable as the slow march of the seasons. Their eyes met across the crowded space and he smiled in spite of himself. She smiled back, but there was a hesitance to it that made his chest tighten. Adjusting his grip on his carry-on, he shifted his eyes elsewhere.
Chris hung back while Sam and Joey received Jon and Sara, but he couldn’t avoid Joey forever. After a hearty handshake from Sam, he found himself face to face with her.
“Long time no see,” he said, unsure how long they’d been standing there looking at each other but certain it was awkward.
Smirking, she swatted his hand aside and stepped up to hug him tightly. Trying to keep the surprise from his face, he hugged her back with his free arm.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, holding on longer than necessary.
“Me too?” He wasn’t sure what to make of this development, which was probably why it didn’t occur to him to push her away. Holding her was easy; it was holding on to her that was the rub. And letting go… he wasn’t sure he’d done that yet, and her warm reception rekindled feelings he’d spent the last three months trying to bury.
Hand in hand, they followed their siblings to the baggage carousel.
“I heard about Em’s verdict. It sucks,” Joey said.
“Yeah. If you could’ve seen her during the trial, though… she was so brave.”
“She’s stronger than I ever gave her credit for, that’s for sure. I’m sure Jon did the best he could, but a year?”
“A year is good, actually. Could’ve been worse. With good behavior, she could be up for parole in a few months.”
“Then what? He knows where she is. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for her again.”
He glanced down, meeting her eyes briefly. The concern he saw there brought a smile to his lips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were worried about her.”
Joey snorted softly and blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Of course I’m worried about her. She’s my friend.”
“You’ve been distant with her. Hell, you didn’t even go to the trial…”
“Are you done?” Joey asked, releasing his hand. “I’ve been busy, okay? I don’t need a guilt trip.”
Chris winced. Not even five minutes, and they were already fighting. Sort of. “I wasn’t trying to give you guilt, I’m just saying… you know what? Never mind. Jon says that once she’s out, she can relocate as long as her parole officer knows where she is. She might even be able to get a transfer out of state approved. She could move up here.”
“That’s probably not a good idea. Wherever we are is the first place he’ll look.” Joey stuffed her hands in her pockets, eyes forward. “Hell, it might even be better if we don’t know where she is.”
“Better for whom? Her or us?”
“Both.” She darted forward to claim his bag, ending the conversation at least for the moment.
He decided not to pursue it further when she returned. They waited for the rest of the bags in silence.
The blast of cold air that greeted him as they stepped outside came as a shock. It’d been sunny and sixty-five when they left San Diego, but the sky over Seattle was cloudy and gray and the air was easily twenty degrees cooler. At least it wasn’t raining. Grateful that Sara had reminded him to bring a jacket, he slipped it on and zipped up before they headed for the car.
The ride from the airport to the house took over an hour. Chris spent most of it gazing out the window in silence, crammed into the backseat with Jon and Sara. He got his first glimpse of Mt. Rainier along the way, though its snow-capped peak was shrouded by low-hanging clouds. Their path tracked north and east, out of the city and away from the volcano but toward the North Cascades. Chris couldn’t help but crouch down and crane his neck to peer up at the impossibly tall trees that dotted the landscape. The needled evergreens were the tallest trees he’d ever seen, and the view took his breath away more than once.
Chris knew very little about the location that’d been chosen for the family’s new residence. He’d seen pictures of the house itself, but nothing more. In truth, he’d b
een avoiding it. He still felt like the whole family had been uprooted because of him, no matter what they said about it being in everyone’s best interests.
The road narrowed as it ascended into the mountains, winding its way along the curves in the landscape. By the time they turned off onto a private drive, they’d reached an elevation where snow lingered on the ground and dusted the tall trees. Chris turned his focus forward with interest, and soon the house came into view. It looked more like a mountain lodge than a home, with its cobbled stone edifice and towering chimneys, sprawled across the snowy landscape like something out of a brochure. Could something so remote and private be said to have curb appeal? If so, it had it.
“You expecting company?” Sam said, and Chris finally noticed the car parked at the top of the drive. It was an older-model Camaro with peeling and patched paint, rusty wheel wells, and a broken taillight. A man leaned against it, smoking a cigarette.
“No, but apparently company was expecting us,” Joey replied, chuckling.
Something in her voice gave Chris pause, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He studied the stranger through the window as Sam pulled the car up alongside the parked Camaro. The man was tall and thin, broad-shouldered and muscular beneath his thick winter coat. While the car pulled up alongside him, he stubbed out his cigarette on the car’s fender. Chris winced. Even the old beater’s shitty paint job didn’t deserve that.
Joey was the first out of the car once it rolled to a stop. She threw open the door and hopped out quickly. “Hey! Is something wrong? I told you I’d…”
The door swung shut, cutting off the rest of her words along with whatever reply was made, even to Chris’s sensitive wolf ears. He opened his own door and climbed out, shivering as the cold air blew across his neck. He closed the door, turned his collar up, and tucked his hands under his arms as he caught the end of what Joey was saying.
“…not trying to hide them. But as long as you’re here, you might as well meet them.”
“Great minds think alike,” the man said before turning his attention to Chris. When he did, his eyes widened and he rocked back on his heels. “Holy shit, you must be Chris.”