He held his hand up. “Okay, I get the picture. I thought you had a brother and sister not two brothers.”
“No, sorry. I forget you’ve not been in the Coroner’s office long enough to know that. My little brother and sister are Mom and Dad’s biological children. Full-blooded Rayburns. As are the two older brothers from Dad’s first marriage.” Her shoulders relaxed and she sat back. “Anyway, when I went to my parents for dinner yesterday, I was grilled. Mom found out it’s only you and Rian . . . well, let’s just say she could broker peace between Heaven and Hell since neither could say no to Mom.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried not to react, but failed. “Your mother wants us there, but you don’t?”
“No, I mean yes if you want to come. But no . . . we’ve only been on one date dammit.” Jo jabbed at her last wonton. “And I’ve only ever invited men I’m serious about. This is just . . .”
Okay, he got that. He’d only ever introduced Rian to one other person he’d dated, that person had wanted him to have his brother committed. So sue him if he was gun-shy about bringing another woman around.
She checked her watch. “And I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to be attending an autopsy in forty minutes and need to run back to my desk for my notes.”
“I need to get back too. I’m on schedule for any calls and more paperwork as well as an assist on three autopsies later today.” Not wanting their second date to end like this, he leaned forward and laced their fingers together. “How about we meet for lunch again this week and we’ll feel our way on the Thanksgiving decision.”
“Sounds good.” The frown slid from her face and was replaced with a small smile.
He pressed a kiss to her fingers, then released her hand and began gathering their trash up, shooing her away while he piled everything onto one tray. “Okay, go save the world. I’ll toss our garbage.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I got this. Go on now.”
Jo stood, slung a purse in the shape of a small backpack over one shoulder and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Startled, he cupped her cheek in his hand before he thought about it.
The deer-in-the-headlights expression told him she’d been just as surprised by the jolt of electricity that passed between them. Swiping his thumb across her full bottom lip, he followed the motion with his gaze. “Someday I’m going to taste these properly.”
Instead of jerking away, she leaned forward until her moist breath tickled his ear. “Someday I’ll let you.”
She sauntered away, a sultry grin tossed over her shoulder. He followed her swaying hips with his gaze until she’d climbed onto the escalator headed down. He wanted her. But did he want her meeting his brother so early in their relationship? Would she accept Rian? Understand that Rhys would never leave his brother’s care in the hands of strangers?
Dumping the trash, he took the same path as Jo to the first level of the complex. Maybe Jim could help him decide. With how deeply entrenched her family was in law enforcement, Jim would know them. Would know what values they held dear. Work or family?
Chapter 11
He followed Jo’s directions to the graveled area that ran alongside of the multi-colored brick house.
“Wow, they live on the lake,” Rian said from the back with a childlike wonder.
“Yep, and my dad has three different boats. I bet if you ask him, he’d set up a day you and Rhys can go on the water. But not today, there’s too many relatives and it’s too cold.” Jo unclipped her seatbelt.
The click in the back let him know Rian was free now as well. He refused to allow Rian to race off before Rhys got the lay of the land. Quickly releasing his own seatbelt, he turned off the car and stepped out.
It was chaos. Groups of people ranging from toddlers to those using walkers spread over the yard and on the front porch. Sitting, standing, laughing, running. No one was still, except the elderly with the walkers. They reigned supreme on two chairs and a couch at one end of the porch.
Rian’s eyes were wide and his mouth formed an ‘O’. He couldn’t tell if his brother was scared, worried, or excited. If he had to guess he’d say a bit of all three, but as he’d never seen quite that expression on Rian’s face, he didn’t know.
“Jo, are you sure your family is okay with us coming?” He met her gaze, and she seemed to get the message.
In a few strides, she’d rounded the car and leaned into his side. “I swear Rian will be fine. I told you I have two other cousins who are challenged. One stole a garbage truck last month—”
“Wait . . . what?” No way he wanted his brother near someone like that.
“No, it’s not like that. First, Brandon has a split in his brain, which makes it hard for him to make logical decisions. He reacts first before realizing what he’s done. Second, he’s all of thirteen and in special classes to help curb the impulse. Third, the garbage truck driver had left his vehicle parked in front of Brandon’s house.”
“But why?” His eyes swept over the teenagers but had no idea which one was Brandon.
“Because Brandon wanted to see if it worked like his truck. The whole situation just got out of hand.”
“Jesus—”
“It’s been handled. Now Brandon volunteers at the dump for community service the next few months.” Jo’s arm snaked around his waist. “I swear, it’s okay. I just wanted you to understand my family will accept Rian. I’m not saying they’re perfect, because we have a few assholes in the group, but overall they’re welcoming.”
At hearing the sincerity in her voice, he relaxed. “Okay.”
Jim made the same comment, daily, over the last week. But he’d gone further, explaining to Rhys that if he and Jo dated, then her family was part of the package. The majority were cops, hence nosiness was a predetermined factor with them and he needed to learn to deal with it. Because every encounter he had with Jo, no matter how brief, proved to him that he wanted to keep her.
She stepped away and clapped her hands. “Good enough. Rian, you help us unload first. Your brother said you like playing basketball.”
Rian’s body all but vibrated from excitement. “I love playing basketball.”
Grinning, Jo linked her and Rian’s arms. “That’s great, because my parents have two basketball courts. Just a heads-up though, they’re both outside on packed dirt courts.”
“That’s fine. Evan and I play on something like that too.”
A gangly teen in ripped jeans and a football jersey came running up. “Jo, Jo. Is this Rian?”
“Yes.” Jo’s eyes narrowed.
Liquid, brown eyes framed the thickest lashes he’d ever seen on a boy. The young man bounced on the balls of his feet. “Can he come play? Billy’s bailing on us.”
“My cousin sometimes forgets his manners. TJ this is Rian and Rhys, and this is TJ.” Jo waved her hand back and forth between them.
The wind picked up and the teenager’s afro whipped around his head. “Hi,” TJ said, then turned his pleading gaze back on Jo, “so can he?”
“Rhys! Rian! Welcome to the Rayburn madhouse.” A slender woman with shoulder-length gray hair strode down the pea gravel walk toward them.
“Sure, with Mom here we’ll be able to get everything in—”
“Yes!” TJ waved to Jo’s mom and motioned for Rian to follow him.
Seeing Rian hesitating, Jo patted his back. “Go on, we’ll be down there in a few minutes.”
A brilliant smile graced his brother’s face and Rian darted after TJ.
“He’ll be okay, right?” He watched as his brother’s six-foot frame disappeared into the mass of people.
“I’m sure Jo’s already reassured you, but I’ll put my two cents in. He’ll be fine. The kids have been waiting for him to get here and have a lot of act
ivities planned. Now, I’m Madelynn, but you can call me Maddy,” the woman stated.
“Nice to meet you, Maddy, I’m Rhys and the guy who rushed off was my little brother Rian.”
“Not so little,” she teased. Her blue eyes twinkled behind wire-framed glasses.
A few inches shorter than Jo, Maddy held a vibrancy that seemed larger than life. Black jeans with a sparkly applique flower matched what his mother had always referred to as Mary Jo shoes. Another sequined applique covered the toe and mirrored the black and silver long-sleeved shirt she wore. The look was finished by the sequined dangling flower earrings and hair-clips that held her hair on either side of her head. Jo’s mother was a mixture of classy and relaxed fun.
Maddy tugged him into a side hug since his hands were full of sacks that Jo swore they needed to bring. Seeing the mob out front, he admitted the extra colas, chips, cups, and other paraphernalia Jo had brought along would be needed.
“Let’s get you two inside. Then Jo can make sure Rian’s okay while I introduce you to the family.”
With their marching orders, he fell in behind the two women.
Several hours later, he reeled from all of Jo’s relatives and felt as if more were still arriving.
Carl’s deep voice came from just behind him. “Come on, son. I think you’re going into shock.”
How great the kids treated his brother was eye-opening. He expected some awkwardness, but the group accepted Rian as one of them. Rian’s laughter drew him back to the makeshift basketball court.
“You take good care of him,” Carl stated, coming to rest next to him.
“I try.”
A large palm landed on his shoulder. “You do a good job.”
Another group of adults came over to stand next to them, talking over each other and pointing to various players on the court. They introduced themselves and shook his hand. Not that he would be able to keep any of them straight. Too many Mary’s, David’s, Alicia’s, and John’s to keep up with.
“Ready for that break now?”
He turned to Carl. The man tipped his head toward the back.
“Yes, please.” He nodded, his brain on overload. He had no clue how Rian could handle it, but it was as if his brother thrived with all this attention.
Silence fell between them as they stepped on the worn dirt path to the three-car garage in the back. A quick turn of the key and Carl swung the door open into a large space covered in fishing supplies. He gestured toward an area in the back that held a mini-fridge, two recliners, and a few scattered metal chairs. “Welcome to my getaway.”
Peaceful.
Rhys sighed, and sank into one of the recliners. His ears rang now that they weren’t being bombarded with constant chatter.
“I come here whenever my family gets to be too much.”
“So, you’re in here all the time?” he joked.
“Yeah, something like that. Here.” Carl opened the fridge and pulled out two beers. Twisting the caps off, he handed one to Rhys.
The beer, and retreat to a quiet space, felt like something he would do with his father—had done with his father. His mother in the kitchen chattering with Rian while he and his father would escape to Dad’s woodworking shop. The many sodas they shared before he could have beer. Watching the pre-game on the small television.
“You know your name is weird right? I mean Rice—”
“It’s spelled R-H-Y-S.” He got this reaction quite a lot, though not recently. Tipping the bottle to his lips, he took a sip and coughed. “What is this?” He pulled the bottle away and read the label. “Cherry beer?”
“Yep.” Carl grinned. “One of my nephews restocked the fridge. Nasty right?”
Another cough. “Maybe it’ll grow on me.”
“Why’d your parents spell it R-H-Y-S, then not use the British pronunciation of Reese?”
Familiar now with the interrogation techniques Jo used on him, he took another tentative sip of the beer. The liquid coated his tongue with a sugary sweetness mixed with the sharp bite of cherry. Not too bad, but definitely not how he wanted his beer to taste. At least he knew he wouldn’t be drunk when he left this shed.
Carl drank his beer while patiently waiting for him to answer.
“My parents had a deal. Mom got to choose my first name and Dad chose my middle name, then vice versa with Rian.”
Crooking a brow, Carl didn’t say anything. He wondered if Jo realized how many mannerisms she’d picked up from this man? Even though they weren’t related by blood, their expressions and questioning techniques were identical. Carl’s six-foot-two-inch frame shifted in the leather recliner as if settling in for a long stay.
“Mom loved sci-fi movies, so she chose Rhysian. Rian couldn’t pronounce it so he called me Rhys.” His thumbnail dragged across the label of the beer bottle. Memories of Rian before the accident swamped him. His little brother at his first t-ball game screaming for Rhys to watch him. Waving to him as he’d left for college. Rian lying still in the hospital bed. Then their parents’ funeral, matching coffins both closed, and Rian clinging to his arm as if Rhys would disappear too.
Carl’s grunt jerked him back to the present and was the only answer he received after that revelation. “You and your brother like to fish?”
He expected Carl to drill him more, however he latched on to the change of topic like a drowning man thrown a life jacket. His gaze roved the massive interior that held a sleek fishing boat, fully kitted with sonar and a trolling motor. He shook his head. “Never been.”
A pat to his knee jerked his attention back to the placid man that used to be a captain in the Moody Police Department. “Don’t worry, maybe after the winter me, you, and your brother can plan a trip out.”
“We’d like that, Carl. Thanks.”
“Any excuse to get on the water. Now, let’s see what’s on TV.” Carl reached into a side pocket of his chair and pulled out a remote. Pointing it at the bar behind the metal chairs, he spotted an old, boxy television as the picture flickered to life.
Finally relaxing, he sagged into the recliner and enjoyed the simplicity of the pre-game stats scrolling over the screen.
~ ~ ~
The car was toasty warm and filled with the quiet crooning of Christmas music. Jo felt the tension in her shoulders leave her. Instead of listening to the music, Rian plugged his earbuds in and began humming along off-key to another song with a pop sound to it. They’d survived the dreaded family gathering.
Not just survived, but Rhys had actually interacted with her relatives without running away screaming. Though he had disappeared with her dad for a while, that was almost tradition. Well, a tradition for everyone else’s husband and boyfriends, it was a first for Jo.
“Have you and Sullivan gotten any further on the Gravedigger case?” he asked. His lowered voice caused a sliver of heat to unfurl in Jo’s stomach. Would he sound like that when he made love? Whisper soft and sexy?
Jerking her thoughts back to the present, she cleared her throat. “No, we’ve done everything we can.”
“What happens now?”
“We wait for him to make a mistake.” Jo shrugged. “He’ll keep digging up graves and taking more victims until we catch him—”
“There’s no pattern on the cemeteries?”
“Not that we can find. I mean, Karma thought she had one figured out, but if she had we would’ve heard from Tennessee two days ago.” It’d been the one bright spot after Karma had mapped every confirmed cemetery. “Karma didn’t get ahold of the last few caretakers until last Thursday.”
His hand clenched and released, the leather of the steering wheel creaked under his fingers. “Why so long?”
“Since some of the cemeteries aren’t very large, the caretakers are in charge of multiple locations. They aren�
��t in a rush to confirm they had a body dug up and then dumped like trash—”
“But it’s not. He poses them, dressed in pretty clothes, nails, hair, and makeup done—”
“Still.” Jo shuddered. No way did she want to think about that happening to her own lifeless body. Or that of any of her relatives.
“Sorry.” He reached over the console and patted her thigh.
“It’s . . . well, not fine. All of us thought for sure we’d found a pattern, dammit!” Jo nibbled at her thumbnail.
“You’ll get the guy.” He cleared his throat as his hands squeezed the steering wheel again. The relaxed tone gone, replaced with his crisp, proper voice that set Jo’s teeth on edge. “I do have a favor to ask. Rian picks up curse words and feels that if someone else uses them, then so can he. I’d appreciate if you can tone that down.”
She took in his profile in the darkened interior. Rian’s quiet humming slowly turned into soft snores.
“Sorry, I’ll do my best.” Jo wasn’t sure she could keep that promise since she’d never worried about her language before.
“With us dating, he’ll pick up on your vocabulary. I’ll tell you now, sitting with his therapist, school counselor, and teacher while they explain how he uses the terms is awkward and uncomfortable.” He chuckled. The crispness slid back into the warm tenor he used with Rian and close friends. “I speak from experience. Those meetings are why I stopped using those words and substituted them with outrageous words when needed.”
She wondered if someone gave him grief about cursing. Was this why he’d become cooler? His icy demeanor a shield as he broached a touchy subject. “That’s why you say Shazam sometimes.”
“Yes, and if you corrupt Rian you get to handle the meeting. It’s only fair,” he teased.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She shivered, knowing it’d be worse than sitting with her captain and explaining why they didn’t have any leads. Therapists, counselors, and teachers dealt with recalcitrant students daily, and she bet they had the scowl of disapproval perfected, more than her captain ever would.
Gravedigger (The Rayburn Mysteries Book 1) Page 10
