Holmes & Moriarty 02 - All She Wrote (MM) (12 page)

“I’m glad,” she said with her old warmth. “You deserve someone who appreciates you.

David was always going to have an eye out for someone younger, handsomer and more exciting.”

I knew what she meant, but it still stung. Especially since J.X. was that someone younger, handsomer and more exciting.

“True,” I said.

“And of course J.X. is welcome. Did you tell him—?”

“I did, yeah. I don’t know if you recall that he used to be a cop.”

“Oh.” Her voice changed. “No. I don’t think I ever knew that.”

I remembered how determined she’d been to keep the police out of it, and I decided I’d better come clean.

“Yeah, he gave it up for fame and fortune, but he used to swing the old blue lantern.” I glanced at J.X. who shook his head resignedly. “Anyway, you’re probably not going to like this, but I asked him to go trade on his former badge and find out from the local fuzz if there was any chance the accident wasn’t an accident.”

“But that’s it,” Anna exclaimed. “The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that it
can’t
have been an accident.”

“Well, but the thing is—”

“It’s too much of a coincidence. The car
must
have been tampered with while it was parked on the estate.”

“The police don’t agree,” I interrupted before Anna got too carried away with her theory.

Granted, it had been my theory too.

“But they’re wrong. They must be. They’re not looking carefully enough.”

“I think they’re looking pretty carefully, Anna. Especially after J.X. asked them to take a closer look.” I sucked in a deep breath. “I think we’re going to have to accept that it’s merely a very tragic accident.”

“I don’t believe it.”

I closed my eyes. I really didn’t have the energy to fight her on this. “Okay. Maybe you’re right. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

She said in an urgent, shaking voice that revealed how much stress she was under,

“Christopher,
please
believe me. I’m not making this up. Someone is trying to kill me.”

I opened my eyes again. J.X. was frowning at me. “I do believe you.”

“There was nothing wrong with that car,” J.X. said.

I shook my head at him. I spoke to Anna. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m officially released.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she responded. “Just come. As soon as you can.” The receiver clicked.

I handed the phone to J.X. “We’re supposed to drive out there as soon as I’m released.”

“Don’t get sucked into her paranoia.”

“Look, if you’re going to dismiss her as a nut job, you might as well go home.”

“I’m not staying for her. I’m staying for
you
.”

I sniffed disapprovingly, but really…it was hard to maintain appropriate levels of aggravation if he was going to say things like that.

Being J.X. he couldn’t let it go. “Think about it. What would be the point of sabotaging someone else’s car? Was there a chance in hell Anna was going to climb in that vehicle?”

“No.”

“No. So the dumbest criminal on the planet would know he had nothing to gain. I agree it’s an odd coincidence, but the fact that this woman with a history of bad driving had an accident on a dangerous road during poor weather conditions isn’t that amazing.”

“Agreed. But Anna’s frightened. And she’s grieving.”

“I get that.”

“Just…tone down the skepticism around her, okay? Because regardless of what you think, something
is
wrong at that house.”

He was silent.

“I can’t explain it, but all the time I was there I felt an undercurrent. I’m not explaining it well, but if I felt it, it’s there.” We both knew what I meant: that my unease was significant not because I was especially sensitive, but because of the exact opposite.

“You’re really fond of her.”

I forgot and shrugged. When I got my breath back, I said, “Yes. She’s a big part of why I have a writing career. Such as it is. I owe her.”

“That’s good enough for me. We’ll do what we can for her.”

I admit that it wasn’t easy climbing into J.X.’s rental car the next morning.

In fact, if it had been anyone but J.X. driving, I’m not sure I could have done it, but the idea of letting him know how freaked I was, combined with the fact that I really did believe he was a very good driver, gave me the necessary backbone.

Even so, I wasn’t sure I would be able to ever ride in a backseat again. My hands were ice cold as I buckled the seat belt, and that was nothing to do with the new snow drifting lazily down.

I thought I was hiding my tension pretty well as we left the city and headed out into the scenic hills and valleys of the Berkshires, but J.X. glanced over at me and said, “Okay?”

“Fine.”

“If you want me to pull over, say the word.”

What word would that be?
Mommy?

“No. I’m fine.” If I kept telling myself so, it was bound to eventually be true.

I was grateful that he left it there. Too much sympathy was going to make it harder. The white fields and dark woods flashed by as we drove.

The previous driver of the rental car had left a CD in the player. Jack Johnson’s
To the
Sea
. About as far from Connecticut as you could get. I focused on Johnson’s laid-back tunes of sand and sea.

Eventually the landscape began to look familiar, and I knew we were coming up on the site of the accident. My stomach began to bubble unpleasantly like overcooked Cream of Wheat.

The car slowed a fraction. J.X. said nothing, but I knew he was unobtrusively watching me. It only served to make me more tense.

Up ahead I could see the skid marks in the road, black quote marks standing out sharply against the dull pavement, a statement of disaster. Police tape marked where the car had crashed through the wall of snow along the embankment, and I could see the gray frozen lake beyond.

And then we were speeding past and the scene of the accident was growing smaller and smaller in the side mirror, until it was lost around the next curve in the road.

As we headed up the long drive to Asquith House we passed Luke riding along the side of the road on one of those snowblower tractor thingies. He eyed the car with a dark, unblinking gaze as we tooled past.

“There’s someone it might be well worth checking out,” I said.

“I’d just as soon not hear about other guys you want to check out.”

“I don’t mean check out as in check
out
, I mean check out as in run a background check.

He’s supposed to be romantically involved with Anna, but he’s an ex-con of some kind. His name is Luke.”

“What was Luke in for?”

“It’s not exactly clear. I’ve heard three different stories. The only thing everyone seems to agree on is Anna managed to convince the parole board to release him early, and apparently one of the conditions of his release was that she provide him with employment.”

J.X. raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment.

“He’s also a beneficiary of her will, although that’s not saying a lot. Her will seems to include everyone on the planet.”

“All right. I’ll ask around.” Meeting my gaze, he smiled wryly. “The sooner we figure out what’s going on here with Anna, the sooner we can go home.”

Home.
It sounded nice the way he said it.

I said rashly, “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Could that be the pain meds talking?”

I studied his face. “Actually…no.”

I wasn’t sure, but I thought he might have blushed.

I was obscurely pleased to see that even J.X. wasn’t able to defrost Sara.

“How’s Anna doing today?” I asked after the initial greetings were out of the way. I use the term “greeting” lightly. I didn’t get the impression Sara was any more overjoyed to see us than I was to see her.

She hesitated. “At the moment, she’s resting. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what a terrible shock this has been for her. She’s not a young woman.”

No, she didn’t have to tell me. It had been a terrible shock for me too and I wasn’t a young woman either. I refrained from saying so. I’d already noticed Sara wasn’t much for funning, and my tendency to inappropriate humor was a nervous tic I was trying to break.

“Is anyone from the writing group still staying at the house?”

“No. They’ve all gone.” She clarified almost immediately, “That is, Rudolph is still here.

He’s leaving Tuesday.” She added without expression, “And Ricky’s here.”

“Who’s Ricky?” There were some gaps in my memory, but I was pretty sure there hadn’t been a Ricky taking part in the Asquith Circle.

“Richard Rosen. Anna’s stepson.” Though Sara’s expression gave nothing away, I had the distinct impression she disapproved of Ricky. “Everyone else left yesterday. Victoria lives on the estate, of course.”

Two miles from the house. Within walking distance. I did remember making a mental note of that.

“I don’t think Ricky and I have met,” I said.

“He’s Miles’s son. Anna’s first husband.”

I’d never met Miles Rosen, but I knew of him. He had been another mystery writer, best known for a very dry but award-winning series about a Midwestern school teacher. He’d died of cancer a couple of years after he and Anna had divorced.

Before I could come up with any further questions about stuff that was none of my business, Sara said, “You’re in the same room. If you’d prefer other arrangements, I’ll be happy to see to it.”

“Why wouldn’t the same room be all right?” I asked, puzzled.

Sara looked at me like I was an idiot. “I mean, per Anna’s instructions, you’re
both
in the same room.” She looked pointedly at J.X.

“
Oh
. Right. Yes, same room is fine.”

It was, wasn’t it? J.X. had said nothing, but when I glanced at him, he nodded.

“Of course.”

Of course. ’Coz we were going to do that relationship thing for real now. I tried not to gulp.

After that, I ran out of things to say. That was okay, because I felt surprisingly tired, even shaky as we made the long trek from front door to second floor. It was funny the way getting thrown upside down a few times and partially squashed could take it out of you.

We reached our room and Sara said, “I know you’re still convalescing, Christopher, but Anna will want to see you when she wakes up.”

“That’s why we’re here.” I was trying to be team-spirited, but I saw from the quick look J.X. threw me that I was probably supposed to be more discreet.

Sara didn’t seem to notice, however. “Dinner is at seven. As before.”

“Thanks.” I wanted her to go away so that I could shut the door and formally introduce J.X. to the monolith. His expression as he took in the velvet draperies and twirling grapevines was priceless.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Sara said. Her tone was not encouraging.

I nodded and kept nodding until the door closed behind her. I slumped against it, letting my head fall back. Between the strain of the trip and a certain amount of reaction, I felt whipped.

I jumped as J.X.’s arms went around me.

His breath was warm against my face. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head.

“Come on, Kit.”

I grimaced. “It’s occurred to me that we’re probably in over our heads. I am anyway.

Your head is…well, probably better at this.” I told myself that I was thinking in terms of sleuthing, but I knew that wasn’t all that was worrying me.

J.X. gave a sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh.

“Come and lie down, honey. You’re all wound up.”

I eyed him with exasperation. Typical guy. Hopefully he wasn’t thinking we could get up to anything because I was definitely
not
in shape for fooling around…

So it was as big a surprise to me as anyone when the next thing I knew I was lowering gingerly to the continental plate serving as our bed, turning cautiously—with much wincing and catching of breath—to watch J.X.

He was shaking his head at the production I was making but smiling at me with such affection that it started my heart pounding noisily in my ears. The bedclothes rustled, the old springs gave a rusty groan as he landed limberly beside me. He slipped a careful arm beneath me.

“Looks like we’re getting our weekend together after all.”

“Er, yes.”

“Though I’d be happier if you didn’t look quite so banged up.”

“Did you know in Britain ‘banged up’ means to be jailed or locked up?”

“I didn’t know that.” He was still smiling. I smiled self-consciously back. I felt a startling leap of pleasure as he slid my jeans zip down.

“That’s what
I’m
talking about,” he murmured, and I gave a spluttery laugh.

“Well, enough with the talking.”

J.X. grinned. He displayed such a touching tenderness, his fingers not quite steady as he reached in to touch me through the warm cotton of my briefs. The hardness he found there seemed to reassure. Him and me both.

Maybe I was in better shape than I thought. My breath expelled in a long, sighing gust, and I lifted my hips so that J.X. could pull my jeans wider, slip his hand inside the pants to take hold of me.

“Mmm.” I closed my eyes, relying on the sensory impression I was receiving as J.X.

fondled me. That over-sensitized-skin thing was happening again as his fingertips trailed gently.

Every cell seemed to vibrate. In fact, the intensity of my reaction to him was disquieting.

It seemed like at the least I should reciprocate, but he said, “Relax, Kit. Close your eyes.

Let me do this for you.”

It was only too easy to give in. I murmured in acquiescence. He had to shift around to get the angle right. My cock nudged him, trying to nestle into his palm. He rubbed me gently, and I reached out, showing him what I wanted, positioning his hand on my genitals which seemed to throb in heavy response.

That warm weight felt very good as he stroked me. “God, that’s nice.”

He made an inquiring sound.

“Oh, yeah. Just like that.”

“Yeah? How about this?”

My breath caught. “
Yes
.”

His hand slid down, cupped my balls. Squeezed lightly.