Point of Attraction (24 page)

“They’re great, those two,” he said,
and smiled down at her when she let out a short cough. “Yes,” he
added, “even Paula. Talk about a mother hen. Whew!”

They laughed. She had forgotten how she
enjoyed sharing something funny with someone... as she had with
Sam. There was a moment of stabbing guilt, that she could find such
simple pleasure with another man. Was Mason thinking of
Jenny?

She shoved the troublesome thought
back, and leaned into him to let his strong body support
her.

“Mason,” she said, feeling very
comfortable with the moment, “You know I was serious when I told
Roberts that something is off about this whole thing with Jeffrey.
Don’t laugh, but I’ve watched enough TV and Discovery Crime
Detective to question this whole thing.”

“Ah,” he murmured, “Serious
stuff.”

“Stop.”

“Okay,” he said. “Continue.”

“Would someone that has a phobia about
blood shoot himself?”

She held up her finger to show him her
healing cut. “I thought Jeffrey was going to faint when I cut my
finger while doing his hair Thursday morning.”

“My first thought would be
no.” His large hand pressed her to him, his chin resting on the top
of her head. “But I’ve seen some crazy people do what isn’t what we
term
normal
. Look
at that jerk I shot. Who would have thought a man would do that to
his own son, thinking this would bring his wife back. The world is
a crazy place sometimes, you know?”

“I suppose,” she half whispered,
thinking to let it go... yet unable to. “I just can’t get Jeffrey
out of my mind. Did you... actually see him?”

“Yes,” he said in a very sad voice,
then let out the sound of a heart heavy with the world he came
across every working day. “It’s said, crazy is the mirror image of
sanity sometimes.”

“I think it’s
coin and genius
,” she
laughed.

“What?”

“Coin and genius. Insanity is the other
side of the coin to genius, but mirror image is good.” She snuggled
closer and he slid his hand down her spine and back up.

“Well, I better get inside,” she said,
but he tightened his hold.

She looked up into his eyes and his
lips came down. The warmth of him was compelling, intoxicating, and
Georgie wanted more. She wanted to know, explore, just how badly he
wanted her to stay out here with him... or in his car.

No, she thought. This could take her to
a place from which she might not want to return. She was about to
leave the warm shelter of his arms when that ill fitting puzzle
piece came back.

“You know what’s been bothering me
about all this?”

“Talk about a mood breaker,” he
laughed, then cleared his throat with a soft breath mixed with a
sigh as he tightened his hold. “Okay, Holmes. I’ll bite. What is
it?”

“Promise you won’t laugh.”

His chin nudged her head for her to
continue.

“You said he took one round to the
right temple.”

His chest heaved and lowered while his
heart upped its beat beneath her ear. “Yes.”

“Why would a left handed man, who’s
afraid of blood, shoot himself, let alone in the right temple?
Isn’t that hard to do?”

She held her left hand to her right
temple in a finger gun. “Feels very awkward.”

“He was left handed?” he asked, taking
hold of her finger gun, and pressed it to his lips.

“I watched him write out a check once a
month. I am very sure he’s left handed.”

“George,” he started to say, but his
cell phone went off. “Dammit! If it’s Tonie again, I swear...
Montgomery here.”

He listened for a moment. It wasn’t
Tonie, but a man’s voice.

“Yes, I am. Why?” Mason
asked.

Even in the shadowed night, Georgie saw
Mason’s features change; his eyes darting about the area, and the
circle of his arms suddenly became more protective than caressing.
It was as though he were trying to place her inside him, give her
that protection he was unable to give Jenny.

“Right,” he said. “We were just
discussing that same question. So what are we looking
at?”

When she heard his heart begin
hammering violently in his chest, Georgie’s concern rose, but she
didn’t move.

“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” he
said, his voice low, intense. “Thanks for the heads-up.” He
flip-shut the phone and urged her to move. “George, back in the
house. We need to talk to Nick.”

Chapter twenty

As Mason told Nick about the phone
call, Georgie shivered, her skin covered in a mass of icicle
jabs.

“Aw dammit!” Nick burst out. “Not a
suicide. Are they sure? Of course they are, otherwise why call
you.”

“Roberts said CST was very quick with
their first assessment,” Mason said, taking Georgie’s hand. “Though
the note does appear to be in his handwriting, they’re sure the
whole thing was staged. They’re waiting for further info to come
back before making it formal. Roberts just wanted me to know, for
obvious reasons, what their first thoughts were.”

Georgie slipped free of Mason’s hold
and went to the kitchen window to look out. Her back yard was now
an alien world. This was a “B” movie, she thought, and it would
seem the main character had just done the very cliché snubbing of
her nose at the villain being killed off, and now the villain was
bolting back from the dead.

“Whoever did it, was doing his best to
make it work,” Mason was saying.

As he spoke, Georgie let his words
circle her mind, trying to see if the puzzle would come together.
Being right about Jeffrey didn’t make her feel better. It only
brought more confusion.

“But left handed people normally do it
with their left hand,” Mason went on.

“Not always,” Nick said. “He could have
been ambidextrous.”

“Already taken into consideration, but
the angle of trajectory was off, powder burn pattern not consistent
with close range as it should have been. According to Roberts,
Bentley’s feeling is that it was done in a hurry, spur of the
moment thing. The set up was an after thought. Also, there was mud
on the passenger side of the car.”

Mud in his car? Never, Georgie thought,
but before she voiced her thoughts, Mason went on, “And knowing
what we know about Mr. Clean, mud is not something he would go to
his grave with; not in his neat-ass Durango.”

All of their words supported her
assessment of Jeffrey. So why didn’t she feel better? Cause being
right didn’t matter. Jeffrey had been killed and it all had
something to do with her. But what? Why?

“Get away from the window,” Nick told
her.

She heard him, the
sharpness in his voice sending a shock through her, but all Georgie
could do was stare out at the night.
I’m
looking at you, looking at me
, she
mentally told whoever had murdered Jeffrey,
and I
am
snubbing my nose at you. Screw you! Come get
me
. With that determination, she started a
mental list of things to do. Her Slugger bat must be handy at all
times. Time needed to be added to the motion detector lights so
they stayed on longer. That way there would be no doubt if someone
entered her driveway or her yard. Her eyes focused on her kitchen
knives, the empty rose vase, then looked back out to the
slope.
Me looking at you looking at
me
.

“Georgie Girl! Get away from the
window!” Nick hissed at her.

Iron-boned fingers gripped her
shoulders, drawing her away from the hypnotic view of the yard and
slope. She watched Nick let down the blinds and close them while
Mason sat her back at the table.

“George, you need to stay with one of
your kids.”

“No!” she told Mason, shrugging off his
hands. “I am not bringing my kids into this. I will make myself an
open target before I put either one of my children within a mile of
any crosshairs.”

“Georgie Girl, listen...”

Bolting from the chair, she refused to
let either of them touch her, and paced the floor. They wanted only
her safety. She understood that, but she had to make them see. “My
children will not be brought into it. Can I make myself any
clearer?”

She opened the blinds and yanked the
cord so the little slats snapped up like a shot. With arms crossed,
leaning on the counter, she offered her back to whatever danger
might be out there. She gave Nick a long cold stare. “And don’t you
even think about calling Cassie.”

With a bow and hands up, he motioned
surrender to her decision.

“Well, I’m not good with it,” Mason
said, coming to his feet. “George.”

Georgie looked once into his eyes and
knew she’d cave if she didn’t pull away. He was close enough she
could easily have put her cheek to his chest. Instead, she placed
her hand there, urging him to listen, and above all, to believe her
words. “I’m not doing it.”

“Then come stay at my condo with
me.”

Mouth open, she stared into those soft
gray eyes, felt their draw, too persuasive, and she looked to Nick.
The insane just might give her some sanity.

But Nick waved a finger and shook his
head. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I’m not entering this until the dust
settles. You two battle it out.”

She turned back to Mason. He was still
intent, waiting for her answer. A part of her wanted to say yes,
but the rational Georgie knew this was no reason for such a
response, and she slowly moved away, feeling the edge of the
counter slide across her back.

“You want me to just up and leave Daisy
and Max?” she asked.

His surprise was easy to read; eyes
blinking, mouth slightly open, but he swallowed hard and nodded.
“Theeey can come too. Sure,” he agreed, accepting her
baggage.

“Oh, stop,” she said, trying hard not
to laugh, very touched by his kind offer, but there was reality.
She tapped a finger to her chest. “I... me standing here. I have a
business. I can’t just leave that. I can’t. I won’t!” The air
filling her lungs was clear and fresh, giving her back renewed
determination. It surprised her that she could actually manage a
smile. She gave him a quick hug. “Now, I’m going to bed and see if
there’s the slightest chance I can get some sleep. Good luck with
that, I say, but good night, you two.”

“Is she always this stubborn?” Mason
asked Nick.

“My Man, you have absolutely no clue,”
Nick said, and his laughter followed Georgie down the
hall.

~~0~~

“
So fire my ass
.”

The words stirred Georgie; a murmuring
hissing jab. Was it a dream? But it wasn’t her voice... was it? She
tried to open her eyes, but the lids were too heavy.

“
It’s not going to happen
.”

Once more she tried lifting those
eyelids. Raise your head, she thought, lift it. But the pillow
would not release her. She moved her leg and felt two lumps at the
foot of her bed; Daisy and Max. Everything must be fine.

“
Tell you what
,” the voice in the
dream went on, but if this was a dream, why was there no screen? No
picture? No faces? Lots of dialogue. “
Here
it is in itty bitty words...
I am not
leaving.
You want me out so fucking bad,
send someone here to help me with this. Fine. Don’t bother with my
severance package. See who else you can find to clean up your
shit
.”

“Mason? Nick?” Georgie called out, or
had she? Silence. Daisy and Max were still at her feet, Daisy
wheezing as dogs do, while Max purred.

“
Yesterday would not be soon enough.
”
The words were raspy, harsh.

But this land of dreams was darker than
night, more suffocating than the weight of Jeffrey’s murder, and
though she struggled with Morpheus, surrender was just beyond the
haze in the horizon of her thoughts. What she did see, was a fuzzy
bright red light... slowly becoming digital numbers on her clock,
3:30.

It wasn’t all that important after all,
she thought and turned to burrow into her soft pillow.

~~0~~

The strong aroma of rich brewing coffee
working its way up Georgie’s nose and a wet nuzzle from Daisy, sent
Morpheus on his way. Georgie managed to open one eye. The clock
said 7:00, and there was definite daylight coming through the
blinds in her window. Two sharp knocks boomed in her
head.

“Are you going to get up or
what?”

“No. I want to be buried where I
am.”

“Oh, come on,” Nick said, jostling her
with a solid shake. “Little orange juice, and a glass of water
before you shower, and you’ll be fine. Come on, come on. Food’ll be
ready soon.”