Deadly Obsession (A Brown and de Luca Novel Book 4) (20 page)

What if we disagree? What if I want red satin sheets while he has his heart set on plaid flannel? What if I want to take a cruise to the Caribbean and he wants to take one to Alaska? What if he wants six more dogs and a pony? Or a motorcycle? Or to grow a full beard, for the love of God?

“Hey,” he said near my ear, just as a warm hand curled around my shoulder. “Everything all right? You’re staring at the computer like you’re trying to melt it with your mental heat ray.”

I looked up at him. “You’re like a freakin’ ninja, you know that? How did I not hear you come in?”

He shrugged, looking not at my eyes but at my screen and blinking cursor.

“No. Uh-uh. No way.” I clicked Save and closed the document at the speed of an embarrassed author, then faced him again. “Never do that, okay?”

“Read what you’re writing while you’re writing it?”

“Yes. That.”

“Okay. That’s cool. I’m good with that.” He shrugged. “I mean, if you don’t want the answer to the questions you were sweating over, then far be it from me to—”

“You know the answers?”

He met my eyes, wiggled his brows up and down.

“Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“Nope.” He turned and started a casual and totally fake saunter toward the kitchen. “You don’t want my input, so I’ll just go and—”

I sprang from my chair and caught him in two strides, tugged him around by his shoulder, and said, “I snapped at you, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to. I was in deep.”

“You did snap. A little. It’s okay. How else am I going to learn not to interrupt when you have that particular expression on your face?”

“I’m sorry anyway.”

“I’m sorry for reading over your shoulder. I can see where that would raise your hackles.” Then he frowned. “What the hell are hackles, anyway? Exactly where, on the body, are hackles located?”

“You can hunt for them later. First, tell me the answer you think you know, oh, wise guru of relationships.”

He smiled slowly. “The answer is simple. Compromise. Satin sheets one night, flannel the next. Alaska one year, Caribbean the next. I promise not to ask for six more dogs and a pony, but I refuse to surrender the possibility of a bike and/or a beard, because, hey, you never know.”

I frowned. “Did I write all that?”

“You tend to think with your fingers. Where are the boys?”

“The new Xbox needed breaking in, and luckily Rosie and Gwen bought a bundle that included a couple of games,” I said. “I made them hook it up in their bedroom, ’cause I like to work down here during the day. Sandra picked Misty up a couple of hours ago, and the Brown boys have been fighting terrorists in foreign lands ever since.”

“Jeremy still sulking?”

“He seems a little better.”

“Gaming does that for him.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Shuts the brain off for a while. Like getting wrapped up in a great book or a really good movie.”

“Makes sense. I never thought about it that way.”

“See how much you’re learning, having me around?”

I smiled slowly. “Let’s try this again,” I said, and I slipped my arms around his waist, hugged up close to him. “Welcome home, Mason. How was your day?”

“It was a revelation. How was yours?”

I gave a shrug. It hadn’t been very productive, but I would adjust. “So what did you learn? Tell me everything.”

Nodding, he surrounded me with his big strong arm and walked me into the kitchen. It was only four-thirty, so there wasn’t anything happening as far as dinner. He went to the sink, cranked on the faucet and washed his hands while he started talking.

“Biggest headline of the day is that it was Gretchen.”

I blinked. “What was Gretchen?”

“All of it. The Rouse fire. Dr. Cho. Probably even my house.”

“Holy...”

“She rigged her apartment, left the door open. As soon as Rosie and I started to walk in, the microwave exploded. Freaking brilliant, too. She used a balloon.”

I blinked, because he was speaking Dutch. “How does one blow up a microwave with a balloon?”

“According to the arson investigator, she did it by putting gasoline and sulfuric acid inside said balloon, and taping a little potassium chlorate and sugar to the outside. Then she set the delay start timer. Not for long, either, or the stuff inside might have eaten through the balloon. But before it could, the microwave turned on, the balloon popped, the chemicals mixed, and...” He flicked open the fingers of both hands. “Boom.”

I swore, and when he turned from the sink I looked him up and down for signs of damage. He had some tiny black holes in his shirt, like he’d been peppered by hot sand. And there was a smear of soot across his gorgeous neck.

“Son of a—”

“I’m fine. Rosie’s fine, too.”

Not that I’d asked, but I would have, I swear.

“How bad was the fire?”

He smiled that time. “Not as bad as she wanted it to be. I grabbed a nearby extinguisher and—”

“Saved the building and everyone in it.” I was not amused. He would get himself killed with this hero bullshit of his.

“I kept the evidence from going up in flames.”

“What evidence?”

“Don’t know yet. We have a team going over the place now. Technically I’m still off duty, so they sent me home.” He poured himself coffee, and I wondered if he’d had any lunch. I opened the fridge to peruse its contents. It was filled to bursting, because I’d bribed Amy to give up her Saturday to do some massive grocery shopping, and she’d taken her mission seriously. “I could make you a sub, if you want.”

“I need a shower and fresh clothes.”

“Cool, I’d rather help with that anyway.”

He smacked me on the ass, gave it a squeeze, then sank into a chair and sipped his coffee. “We found the silver Chevy Cruze. Belongs to a neighbor. He loaned it to Gretchen the night of the Rouse fire.”

“And again the night of Dr. Cho’s?”

“Not knowingly, but by then she knew where he kept the key. I suspect she helped herself.”

“She really thought she had everything covered, didn’t she?” I frowned. “But why did she do it?”

“Well, Dr. Cho might have caught on to her. And according to Peter Rouse, she was obsessed with him, so she probably wanted to take out everyone she perceived as standing between them.”

“And she was crushing on you pretty hard,” I said. “Probably had the same idea.” I blinked. “God, Mason, she tried to kill the boys. She probably thought they were inside when she set that fire.”

He nodded. “She’s still out there. We can’t let down our guard. Okay? We need to stay on top of this. And the kids...I don’t even know what to do about the kids. It’s not like they can go to school with all—”

Of course Jeremy chose that moment to walk into the kitchen. He looked a little better than he had earlier in the day, but he still wasn’t his usual self. It was like he was hiding under a thick cloud of something.

“We can’t not go to school, Uncle Mason. I graduate next weekend. It’s the last week. We’ve got Senior Prank Day, one more Regents test, graduation rehearsal, Senior Legacy Day, Senior Skip Day—”

“You need to go to school on Senior Skip Day?” Mason asked.

I rolled my eyes. “God, didn’t you even
have
a childhood? You go to school, meet the rest of your class and then bug out together to raise hell all day.” I met Jeremy’s eyes. “Grown-ups, right?”

He smiled just a little.

“We’ll figure it out later,” Mason said. “You’ve had other things on your mind besides school. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay home today, but I’m here now. If there’s anything you want to talk about.”

Jeremy sat down. He licked his lips. Then he glanced at me.

“Hey, I’m outta here. You guys need privacy, then I’m cool with—”

“No. If it’s true you probably should know, too,” he said softly. “But it can’t be true. There’s just no way...” He lowered his eyes. “Mom...she thinks...well, she says she knows...that Dad was...”

I looked at Mason.
What the hell are we gonna tell him if he flat out asks?
I didn’t see any answer in his eyes.

And then Jeremy blurted them out, the words we were both dreading. “The Wraith Killer. She says my father was the Wraith.” And then he lifted his head and looked at us both in turn, his eyes welling with tears.

I prayed that the truth wasn’t in my own eyes and bit my lips to keep silent, because it was not my place to answer the question implicit in Jeremy’s words. It was up to Mason. And I’d back him up, whatever he decided to say.

16

M
ason’s heart froze solid when he heard his nephew ask the question. And he knew he couldn’t hesitate in answering, because if he did, the hesitation would be all the answer Jeremy needed.

So he acted fast, and he chose to lie. For the second time in his life. “Jeremy, you know how sick your mother is. You know that, right?”

Jeremy nodded.

“And you know who the Wraith was. You were there when we caught him. Well, when he caught us.”

Rachel said, “Your uncle and I would’ve been his next victims if it hadn’t been for you that day, Jere.”

Again, he nodded. “That’s what I’ve been telling myself. The Wraith was still killing people after Dad was gone. So it couldn’t have been him.”

“There. See?” Mason said.

“But when I walked into the cabin that day, where he had you two, I swore I heard Dad’s voice. And when that killer lay there dying after I shot him it sounded like he started to call you his little brother, Uncle Mace.”

Mason opened his mouth and closed it again, shot Rachel a look that was a plea for help. And like always, she read it, and she came up with an answer.

“I knew a guy who called every male he knew brother. ‘Nice to see you again, brother.’ ‘Do you need a ride, brother?’ ‘Brother, can you spare a dime?’” She shrugged. “It’s a thing with some people.”

She’d bought Mason enough time to come up with his own input. “The man was dying, Jeremy. Who knows what he was saying, or why? He was a serial killer. He was out of his mind even before he was shot.”

Jeremy took a deep breath as he searched Mason’s eyes. And Mason forced himself to hold the kid’s gaze steadily, without flinching, though he felt like a piece of shit for lying to his nephew.

He’d gone through hell to keep his brother’s secret. He’d broken every rule he lived by, gone against everything he believed in, broken the law he was sworn to uphold. He’d concealed evidence. He’d lied. All to protect Jeremy and Josh from the horrible truth of what their father had been. They were too young to have that burden placed on them. It was backbreaking, almost too much for
him
to bear, and he was an adult and a seasoned cop. He’d seen it all. He was tough.

No. The kids might need to know someday. But not yet. Not now.

After studying his uncle’s face for a long moment, Jeremy finally released a breath so long and intense it seemed as if he’d been holding it for hours. His shoulders slumped forward, and his eyes fell closed. He believed because he wanted to believe, maybe even needed to believe.

“Thank God,” he said softly. Nodding emphatically, he got to his feet. “That’s what I thought, but I just...I had to know for sure.”

Rachel slapped her hands down on the table and got up, as well. “Well, now that that’s over with, we should discuss dinner. I sent Amy on a grocery run today. Mason, you’d have been proud of the boys and the way they pitched in to unload it all from her car. I swear she bought enough for a month.”

She was nervous, Mason realized, wanting to push the subject as far away from his dead brother as she possibly could, as fast as she possibly could.

“What do you guys think about a giant pan of lasagna?” she asked. “I make a mean lasagna.”

“You’re not gonna make a mean anything,” Mason said. “The boys and I are making dinner tonight.”

“You don’t have to do that, Mason.”

“We want to. Don’t we, Jere?”

Jere looked at Rachel and nodded. “Sure, I’m up for that. I’ll go tell Josh.”

“Actually, I need to shower and change first,” Mason said. “Meet me down here in a half hour?”

“Deal.”

Mason watched Jeremy disappear all the way up the stairs, making sure he was well out of earshot before he said, “Was that the right thing to do?”

She would probably never know how much it meant to him when she nodded without reservation. “It’s what
I’d
have done.”

“But was it
right
?”

“Well,” she said, “let’s consult my vast body of work, shall we? I wish Amy was here. She quotes my books to me chapter and verse. I’m always writing some version of ‘when faced with a choice between two less than ideal options, choose the one that does the most good and the least harm.’ Telling him the truth would’ve been harmful to him, Mason. There’s no getting around that. Lying was kinder. Not the perfect solution, but the kinder one. It was an act of love. ‘No matter the question, the answer is always love.’ That’s one of my most retweeted sound bites, according to Amy.” She shrugged. “I know it sounds like piles of clichéd regurgitated bullshit, but you know, that’s how I make my living, and people seem to find it helpful, so...”

He clasped her shoulders, and kissed her softly and slowly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You’re amazing.”

“You too.”

“I’m going to take a shower now.”

“Okay.”

Thundering footsteps came down the stairs, and both boys and both dogs raced into the kitchen, because for some reason, Josh couldn’t seem to walk anywhere. Ever. The other three were just trying to keep up.

“Can we take the dogs outside?” Jeremy asked.

“I don’t think—” Mason began.

“I’ll go with them,” Rachel offered. “I’ve been staring at the computer too long. Fresh air will be great.”

Mason eyed her and nodded. “Be careful. Stay inside the fence, okay?”

Josh stomped one foot, tipped his head to the extreme left. “Aww...”

“We’ll take Myrtle frog hunting after dinner. Promise,” Mason said, because taking Myrtle frog hunting had been Josh’s favorite pastime since the ice had melted off the reservoir, and he was super excited that Myrt seemed to be teaching Hugo how to do it.

And that was going to have to be good enough, so he left the room before his younger nephew could launch his customary boatload of arguments. Rachel would keep them in line. He trusted her.

That thought made him stop at the top of the stairs and look back down into the kitchen. Rachel was crouching low, putting a leash onto Myrtle’s collar, rubbing her ears and talking to her as if she were human. He trusted her, at a time like this, with the lives of his nephews. That was something, wasn’t it?

* * *

It was good. We had dinner together, and then we took the dogs across the dirt road and down by the dock to let them splash in the water and traumatize every frog within reach. It was a nice, relaxing, a sort of evening with a whole new feel to it. I mean, we’d had dinner together plenty of times before, the four of us. But it was different now. It was sinking in. They lived with me now. We were...a family.

Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?

I smiled. You’re not even convincing yourself, you know that, Inner Bitch?

Yeah. I kinda do.

I shrugged. So it was nice. So I was liking it. Did that have to be a bad thing?

Only if you lose it.

On that, my Inner Bitch and I were in full agreement.

We played in the water until almost eight, then trooped back inside for dessert and TV. The boys opted, of course, to take their bowls of ice cream up to their rooms and their brand-new Xbox. Mason and I hugged them good-night, then sank onto the sofa with our respective bowls. I flipped TV stations, and he pulled a stack of pages off my fax machine and then joined me.

I frowned. “Those weren’t there earlier,” I said. “Must’ve come in while we were outside. Or else we were having so much fun I just didn’t notice. ” I prayed it wasn’t a revision letter, then reminded myself it was the weekend. Revision letters never came on weekends.

“I’m glad you were having fun. You have to tell me if this gets to be too—”

“Hey.” I put my hands on his shoulders. “This isn’t an experiment, Mason. It’s not a trial period. It’s a commitment.” I blinked and sat back hard. “Damn, I can’t believe I just said that.” And then I looked at him again. “Is that how you feel about it, too?”

He set his ice cream bowl on the coffee table to let it get soft. I loved that he did that. I loved that I knew that he did that. Then he took my chin in his hands, and kissed me, and it was sexy as hell. When he stopped, he said, “
That’s
the way I feel about it. Sorry if I left you any room for doubt.”

“Well, you know, we’re not much for extended discussion of these things.”

“True enough.”

“In fact, this is probably some kind of record.”

“It’s also probably enough for one night,” Mason said. He tapped the papers into a smoother pile and put them on my lap. “Ah, these are the sealed court documents on Gretchen Young. I asked Vanessa to fax them here as soon as they came through.”

I looked down at the papers and right back up at him again. “Let’s read quickly, then. I have
The Walking Dead
on the DVR, and I’m ready to watch it.”

He nodded, took the report and started leafing through it. “Gretchen’s records were sealed because she was legally adopted by her grandmother after her parents were killed. You wanna guess how they died?”

“Gee, let me think. House fire?”

He nodded. “It was determined that flammable materials had collected behind the electrical outlet covers in several spots around the house. Mice, the report suggests. One outlet shorted, and the tinder caught fire.”

“Or maybe...?” I asked, because I knew he had more.

“Or maybe someone ignited the tinder first, and the short happened once the coating melted off the wires. And maybe it wasn’t mice that put it there at all.”

“How old was Gretchen when this happened?”

“Thirteen.”

“God, Mason. We’ve got to get this woman off the streets. She’s completely insane.”

“Yeah, well, we’d better find her before Marie does, or I’m afraid one of them will have more blood on her hands and the other will be dead.”

“Are not!” Joshua yelled.

“Are so!” The two boys came running back down the stairs, dogs following, as always.

“No way, stupid-head!”

“We are so, Joshua.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” I stood and held up my hands. “Man, you guys weren’t this noisy while your uncle was in the hospital.”

“Well, you can’t throw us out now,” Joshua said. “Our house is gone.”

“Like I’d ever throw you out,” I said, tossing a decorative pillow at his head. He ducked. It hit a vase, which hit the floor and broke into three pieces. The room went dead silent. I looked at the pathetic vase and burst out laughing. And then they all did.

“So what’s the argument about?” Mason asked, once we caught our breath again.

“Josh thinks we’re canceling my graduation party next weekend,” Jeremy said. “Because of everything that happened. I told him there was no way you’d do that to me. Right?”

Mason looked at me, looked at Jere, lifted his hands. “Okay, let’s talk about that.”

“No way. You’re not really—”

“I said let’s talk about it. I haven’t made a decision. This is the first time things have been quiet for long enough that I’ve even been able to think about that.” He picked up the remote, pushed the pause button and set it down again. “Okay, so...graduation is next weekend.”

Josh took the reclining chair. Jeremy sat on the edge of the coffee table, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “Yes, it’s next weekend.”

“Most of the work is already done,” I said. “The decorations are all at Sandra’s. The food and the cakes are ordered.”

“However, we’ll have lots of people coming and going, and we have two dangerously mentally ill women running around loose, both with a huge interest in crashing this event. One of them because she wants to kill us.” The boys already knew all this. We’d filled them in so they wouldn’t be caught unaware if Gretchen showed up.

“Not all of us,” I said. “Not you, Mason. You she wants to...I don’t know...
own
, I guess. On a leash or in a cage in the basement for all I know. The rest of us are the ones in her way.” I shot a look at Jeremy. “A graduation party is a big deal, but getting killed is a bigger deal. Don’t you think?”

“Half the guests will be cops,” Jeremy pointed out. “All Uncle Mason’s friends are cops. We’ve got a fence. We can check people at the gate. We couldn’t be any safer if we had the party at the police station.”

“Now there’s a thought,” Mason said.

“C’mon, Uncle Mace!” Jeremy was getting whiny, which was particularly unattractive in a seventeen-year-old almost-man.

I looked at Mason and shrugged. “He’s got a good point.”

“A couple of ’em,” Mason said. He sighed. “I’m gonna talk it over with the chief. Your grandmother will be back by then, so we have to take her safety into account, too.”

“We can make her wear a bulletproof vest,” Josh said. It was his first contribution to the conversation, so I nodded like it was a great suggestion, though privately I thought she would never go for it because it would clash with her pearls. Then I frowned, “When does she get back from her cruise, by the way? She doesn’t even know about any of this, does she?”

“I didn’t want to ruin her trip,” Mason said.

“I can’t believe the chief of police gets to decide whether I get to celebrate finishing high school,” Jeremy complained.

“Not just her,” I put in. “I’m not sure how happy Sandra and Jim will be about having the girls attend a party that requires armed police officers for bouncers. And you wouldn’t want to have it without Misty, would you?”

“That’s blackmail,” Jeremy said softly. “Come on, you guys. I’m
graduating.
It’s a big deal.”

“It’s the biggest,” I agreed.

“And don’t think we don’t know that, Jere,” Mason said. “I promise, if there’s a way to make it happen, I’ll make happen. But I can’t risk your life for it. Not after coming so close to losing you.”

Jeremy sighed as if we’d just handed him a death sentence and hauled himself back upstairs.

Josh said, “He really wants to have that party.” He looked at the stairs and then back again. “With the party barge. He’s like...
so
psyched about that.”

Mason wiggled his eyebrows to make Josh smile. “You wait till he sees his present.”

“What is it?” Josh asked in a loud whisper.

“No way, I’m not telling,” Mason said.