Truth and Consequences

by Sarah Madison

  “Oh, he did, did he?” I hid my smile inside a yawn.

  “Okay, more than odd. Bas put Richard’s hackles up, and then when he noticed Richard keeping a protective eye on Mom, tried to charm him too. Only he wasn’t buying it.” John’s voice was gruff. “Richard’s okay.”

  I nodded and poured myself a cup of the elixir of life without speaking. I spied an empty plate with crumbs on it on the counter, as well as a buttery knife beside it. John must have foraged for himself. After I had my coffee and was starting to feel human again, I made some frittatas. I couldn’t help smiling like the Cheshire Cat as I watched John snarf them down. Staying mad at him was going to be difficult. I could see that.

  “Now what?” I asked as I cleaned up.

  “We knew it was a long shot.” He sighed. “Our best plan now is to hide the decoy somewhere in the house where it won’t be too easy to find, and leave until the alarm installers show up. I put a tracker on the fake box, so if it gets picked up, we’ve got a chance of following it. If they don’t hit us today, we’re going to have to find some way of advertising that we have it without giving the show away.”

  “We could always poke around online. Go looking for a buyer. Or announce we’ve got something to sell.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “That might work. It would take some time to set up, though. We could go through the local fences, for that matter, only there’d be a risk the Bureau would pick up on that. Yeah. They’re probably already watching anyone with a history of dealing in art and museum pieces.” He rubbed his forehead. “We need to find these guys and put them out of business—fast. We can’t keep my mom in hiding forever, and I’m going to have to go back to work.”

  I toyed with the handle of my coffee mug. “We could let Drover and Harris in on it. Not the telepathy bit, but the fact that we have the box and someone is looking for it.”

  He shook his head decidedly. “I thought about this all last night. If someone higher up knows the legend of the boxes, then there’s too great a chance that not only do they want them for themselves, but they might put two and two together and figure out the telepathy bit. Namely, that I’ve got it.”

  I nodded slowly. We’d decided a long time ago not to ever tell anyone about John’s telepathy, back when it first happened. John would be forced to use it in unspeakable ways “for the good of his country,” or else someone would put a bullet through his head to keep their secrets safe. It was kind of nauseating to realize that you couldn’t trust the people you worked for to do the right thing. I’d seen too many unwarranted investigations within the FBI to believe we could trust anyone within the organization. And we were supposed to be the good guys. It just would have been nice to have some backup—not to have to rely on just John and myself.

  “Where’d you hide it?” I asked. I meant the fake box, not the real one. John didn’t need any clarification.

  “In the living room chimney. I even left a trail of soot as breadcrumbs for the amateur burglar.”

  “I hope you didn’t overdo it,” I said.

  “Trust me, I disturbed just enough soot to catch the attention of someone who’s looking for something and make them think they’re being clever for finding it.”

  “Now what?”

  He shrugged. “We might as well go pick up your car. We’ve got some time to kill before being back here to meet the installers. If anyone wants to hit the place looking for the artifact, that would give them an opportunity.”

  “Right.” I didn’t move. I didn’t know how to begin to say what I needed to say.

  “Right.” He squinted at me. “You want to talk about last night, don’t you?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, we should, right?”

  “Hey. I’m okay with how things turned out. You were mad. I was mad. But it all came out okay in the end.”

  “I wanted to smash your face in. I hit you.” I felt a little nauseated. “I feel like I should be part of a PSA on abusive boyfriends.”

  “I had it coming.”

  “No. No, you didn’t. Come on. That’s not how people work things out. Or at least, it shouldn’t be how people work things out.”

  “Look. It was a pretty unusual circumstance, and we were both wound up. And if you recall, I hit back.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “No buts.” He cut me off. “Not on this one. You had about twenty years of pent-up anger looking to blow and a damn good reason for losing it with me. I fed off your anger—jeez, it was like it was pumping straight into my veins—with a little of my own resentment thrown in for fun.” He hesitated, scratching the side of his face. “I won’t kid you. There was something hot as hell seeing you get really pissed, for once in your life. I couldn’t help cheering you on just a little.”

  “There will not be an encore performance.”

  A small grin at that. “I know. And I wouldn’t want it. That would be a toxic relationship. What I’m saying is that last night needed to happen, in more ways than one, and that I’m good with it. Okay?”

  “I’m not okay with it. I could’ve—”

  “I. Am. Good,” he said deliberately.

  Yeah. I had to let it go at that.

  After we collected my car from the hotel and stopped by Hazel’s to check on Jean and the cats, there was just time to pick up a few groceries on the way back to the house.

  The guys from the alarm company were there when we arrived. I parked along the curb behind their van and crossed the front lawn to join John, who was speaking to them. I watched them with narrowed eyes as they went to their vehicle for their equipment. “Huh. Not only on time, but they didn’t leave a note on the door and promise to come back in a few weeks when they realized no one was home.”

  John snorted. “Relax. They aren’t thieves in disguise. I promised them an extra hundred dollars if they came today and waited for us if we weren’t here when they arrived.”

  He unlocked the front door and let us inside. He lifted his chin and swiveled his head from side to side, as though testing the air for fumes.

  “Anything?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Not that I can pick up on. Not that I would be able to tell if someone had been and gone. Only really strong emotions, like fear or hatred, linger about after someone has left the building. The cats probably could have told me something if I’d been aware they were upset the other day, but I didn’t go downstairs until they were over it.”

  “Not picturing Oliver being extremely helpful on the witness stand anyway.”

  He shot me a shyly amused glance. “Yeah. I’m not thinking descriptions of how someone smells or the fact they have tassels on their shoes would crack the case.” His amusement faded as he went on. “Not that this is a case we’ll be taking to court.”

  “We seem to be having our share of those lately.” I was referring to not being able to bring Rachel’s killer to justice, and his short nod told me he knew what I meant. I followed him to the chimney and watched as he reached up inside.

  Disappointment pulled down the corners of his mouth. “Nope. Still there.”

  I caught his hand when he would have wiped his sooty fingers on his T-shirt. “No. In the kitchen with you.”

  “Aye, aye, captain,” he said, with a much put-upon sigh, but he headed for the kitchen sink. He was washing his hands when the alarm guys came inside. I brought the groceries in, and we spent about twenty minutes discussing the system they were going to install, including how to keep the cats from setting it off and how to use it to call the police or fire departments. We settled on the layout of the installation.

  “You guys know a lot about alarm systems,” Ritchie, the older of the two workers, commented.

  “Occupational hazard,” I said dryly. The two men exchanged startled glances.

  “Law enforcement,” John clarified. “How long will it take you to set things up?

  “A couple of hours. And not to worry. Since there are no windows and no outside entrance to the basement, we’re goo
d with not putting any sensors down there that the cats might trigger. You can set it up so that the motion-detector sensors only work when you specifically turn them on as well.”

  They headed off about their business. Thinking about dinner, and wondering how many people I’d have to feed, I was about to suggest calling Jean to tell her she and her friends could come over, when I heard the ringing of an old-style landline telephone. I looked around for the source, only to catch John grinning at me as he fished his cell out of his pocket.

  “How very Rockford Files of you,” I said. At least it wasn’t the Black Eyed Peas anymore.

  His smile faded when he saw the caller ID. “Shit.” He swiped the screen to take the call. “Flynn here.”

  The abruptness of his speech and the intensity with which he listened said it was the Bureau. He confirmed it with his next words. “I realize that, sir, but—” He broke off and glanced at his watch. “I can be there in forty minutes. Yes, sir.” He hung up, cursing.

  “What happened to taking a personal day?”

  “What always happens? Duty calls.” His voice was sharp enough to slice bread. “We caught a break in one of the local cases I’ve been working on. They’ve got a suspect they want me to interview.”

  “And it has to be you, because no one else seems to get as much out of a suspect as Agent John Flynn does. Do they?” Well, it was true. No one could close a case quite like John. Best interrogator on the planet, even if no one knew why. “Look. I’ll be fine here. The alarm guys will be here for a while, and I can call Jean and tell her to bring her party back over as well. You said yourself they think I still have amnesia. You’re the one who’s going to have to be careful out there. Unless you think I should come with you?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “To be honest, I’d feel better if you were here with Mom. Hopefully this won’t take long. I’d better go change.”

  I caught him by the arm as he went past me. “Change clothes, but don’t shave.” I cupped his face and ran my thumb along the line of his jaw. “You know how much I love your stubble.”

  He hesitated and his glance slid toward the installers, who were working in the other room. When it returned to my face, there was a hint of an apology in his eyes. I was withdrawing my hand when he placed his hand over mine and held it there.

  “I know,” I said lightly, “that we’ve still got things to work out. I also know this is all new to you. Being out and all. You’re barely even out to yourself, let alone the rest of the world.”

  “Hey, look,” he said, Smile Number Two lazily sliding into place. “You can read my mind.”

  “I never read anything that small without glasses,” I said loftily and grinned when he mock punched me on my good shoulder.

  Chapter Nineteen

  JOHN HAD been gone about an hour, and the alarm guys almost as long, when I heard the sound of the front door opening.

  “Yoo-hoo. John? Lee? I’m home.”

  I came into the living room to find Jean struggling with her keys in one hand and a cat carrier in the other. Oliver’s weight tipped her slight form to one side, and I rushed forward to take him from her.

  “Thank you, dear. He’s heavier than he looks, isn’t he?”

  I looked past her, out the open door. “Where’s everyone else? You were supposed to be with your friends.”

  “Now, don’t be angry with me, Lee.” She dropped her keys into her purse and patted it gently. “Everyone had things they needed to do before coming over. Hazel had to pick up her granddaughter from daycare and take her over to her daughter’s house, and Betty volunteers at the library twice a week. They’re both coming over later. Elsie had a doctor’s appointment, and Pamela wasn’t sure she could make it. Anyway I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Besides you and John are here. I didn’t see John’s car, though. Isn’t he here?”

  “He got called into work.” Lord grant me patience. “Mrs. F, John was serious about you not going anywhere by yourself. We’re not sure these people aren’t dangerous.”

  “Oh, piffle,” Jean said, making the word sound rude. “John left you here alone, and those men were after you at the hospital. In the parking lot too. I just happened to be there at the time.”

  “You’re forgetting the incident with your car.”

  She sniffed, choosing to ignore that little detail. “I see you picked it up from the store. Is it working again?”

  “Yes,” I said, heading out the door to get Phoenix out of the car. “The difference between you and me is that I’m a trained FBI agent, you know,” I called back to her over my shoulder.

  Phoenix meowed mournfully as I collected her carrier from the backseat of the car, and I assured her that I’d let her out in a minute. I grabbed Jean’s overnight bag, shut the car door with my foot, and took everything back into the house. The house felt deliciously cool compared to the sun beating down on my neck and shoulders. I hated to think what Richmond would feel like in a couple of months, if the air already felt like a damp blanket.

  “Thank you, dear.” Jean took her bag from me with a smile. “I see you got the alarm system installed. It was probably high time I got one anyway.”

  “Let me get the cats situated downstairs, and I’ll show you how it works.” I picked up Oliver’s carrier and took both cats to the basement. They were so obviously traumatized by their short jaunt out of the house—or so they informed me—that I had to make amends by feeding them dinner early. Once both cats were settled in front of their bowls, chowing down, I went back upstairs.

  “Mrs. F?” I called out. “Where are you? I can show you how to arm the system.”

  I walked into the living room to find Jean perched on the edge of the sofa, sitting very upright. Christy Wells was standing in the middle of the room. She was holding Jean’s purse.

  “What are you doing in here?” I snapped. Best to continue playing ignorant, at least for now. “I told you I wasn’t doing any interviews.”

  “Oh, nice try, Agent Parker. Really, you missed your calling. The theater would have loved you. In here, guys.” She raised her voice, still smiling, still looking like the girl next door who just happened to drop by to borrow a cup of sugar.

  The door to the piano room opened, and Helpful Guy came out of it. He certainly didn’t look particularly helpful. More smugly pleased with himself.

  I glanced up at the brisk tread on the stairs to see Magazine Man.

  “No one else here,” he said, flicking a dismissive glance over me as he went to stand beside Christy. Helpful Guy flanked her on the other side. They were like a pair of stupid guard dogs.

  I immediately regretted leaving my gun back at the apartment in San Francisco.

  “Where is Agent Flynn?” Christy asked, still smiling. It was creepy.

  “Work,” I said. “Some of us do that, you know. What the hell is going on here?”

  “Drop the act, Parker.” Christy’s smile could have cut glass. “You know why we’re here. Give us the artifact, and we’ll be on our way. No one has to get hurt.”

  “My dear, I’ve heard better dialogue on television.” Jean lifted her chin haughtily. “Perhaps you’re not really cut out for this line of work.”

  Christy laughed. She sounded genuinely amused. “I’ll keep that in mind. However, I have my orders, and they are to bring back the artifact, no matter what.” She fixed her icy smile on me. “So I’m going to ask nicely just once more. Where is it?”

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking about or what you’re looking for. I suggest you take your friends and get out of here. We’ve got guests arriving any minute now.”

  Christy turned the latch on Jean’s purse. I knew what Jean kept in her purse. I couldn’t let Christy open it.

  I rushed them, the little triumvirate, standing so conveniently clumped together. Amateurs.

  Magazine Man took a swing, which I blocked with my cast. The jar went all the way up my arm and made me grit my teeth with pain, but it had t
o have hurt him almost as much. While he was still shaking out his fist, I came up from below with an uppercut and snapped his head back. When he stumbled backward and went down, I shoved Christy hard and knocked her to the floor. She dropped the purse, but I didn’t have a chance to dive for it, as Helpful Guy moved in to defend her. I kicked the purse aside and gave Helpful Guy an elbow to the face. I followed that up with a vicious kick designed to take out his kneecap, but I was momentarily distracted by a howl of pain to my left. Jean was wielding a poker from the fireplace, chasing Magazine Man back toward the door. John would kill me if I let anything happen to his mother. Simply kill me. I snatched up a lamp from the end table, jerking the plug from the socket, and heaved it in Magazine Man’s general direction. It just missed his head and shattered against the wall.

  Determined to immobilize Helpful Guy so I could go to Jean’s aid, I swung at him with the intent of taking him down. He blocked my jab but staggered when I hooked his leg with my foot and pulled him off balance. I got a punch to his face, making a satisfying crunch as it landed on his nose. He shrieked and clutched his nose as it spurted blood. We all came to a panting halt when Christy bellowed, “Enough.”

  She had Jean’s revolver out and aimed it at me with disturbing competence. “Mrs. Flynn, you’re a treasure. I can see why your son is so fond of you.” Glancing at Jean out of the corner of her eye, she said, “Please drop the poker and take your seat on the couch.” She waited until Jean had complied and then continued. “Since we’re operating under a time crunch, perhaps we should cut to the chase. Give us the artifact.”

  I had to play this just right. I couldn’t give them the fake too quickly, or they might get suspicious. I couldn’t count on Christy bluffing about shooting us, though. She didn’t seem the bluffing type. I let my glance slide over to the chimney and back at Christy again. “I’m not entirely sure it’s here.”

  Cursing, Helpful Guy punched me in the gut so hard I thought I might puke. I was definitely going to have to change his name.