by Amy Lane
SHE HAD arrived on a Wednesday, which meant they had a poetry reading at the local library in the late morning, a tai chi class in the afternoon, and a Kings game that night. As Jackson and Ellery fell into bed, exhausted from running around town—and by just being with Ellery’s mother—Ellery moaned, “She’s got the entire week planned out?”
“It’s not my fault,” Jackson mumbled. He’d liked the tai chi class, hadn’t minded the Kings game, and had napped during the poetry reading. What had really knocked him out was that Ellery’s mother seemed determined to smooth out all of Jackson’s… Jacksonness while she was there.
“Jackson, do stand up straight. You’ll ruin your posture.” “Jackson, I understand you can use that word as often as you like, but part of being an adult is only using it as often as you need.” “Jackson, I do believe if you and my son plan to work full-time again, you should either procure a friend for this animal or find someone who doesn’t mind feeding him while you are gone. I think he might be lonely.”
“I know it’s not your fault,” Ellery soothed. “I just don’t know why we’re doing this, that’s all.”
Jackson closed his eyes, thinking about the fritters. Ellery had been so discombobulated, he hadn’t even asked where they’d come from. And Jackson just couldn’t tell him that someone had put a hit out on his mother. That seemed rude, somehow.
“Lucy Satan works in mysterious ways,” he grumbled.
“Well, I need her to work her way home,” Ellery said. Then he sighed. “But while she’s here, maybe we can have her look at some of the properties for the new office.”
Jackson perked up. “So we don’t have to go to San Francisco tomorrow?” Because driving the tank down there would cost a fortune, the parking would be horrific, and the car was loud enough to wake the dead.
“No, Jackson. I’ll talk to her over breakfast. Do you think you can hit that donut place again? Those fritters were amazing.”
“No,” he muttered. “I’d rather have fruit.” Ellery was warm next to him, and Jackson kissed his shoulder through a softly laundered T-shirt. “And you,” he said, meaning it.
Ellery kissed him chastely on the mouth.
And then not so chastely.
And then they were sliding their hands over each other’s chests and Jackson had a handful of Ellery’s taut backside and was kneading and spreading and grazing the sensitive bits and then—
“Jackson?” Ellery’s mother said as she knocked. “Jackson, your inappropriate cat seems to want to sleep with me. I insist you take him.”
Ellery made sobbing sounds, and Jackson rolled sideways. “You get the door,” he whispered. “You can pull a T-shirt over your boner!” Jackson wasn’t wearing a T-shirt, but he definitely had the boner.
Ellery grunted and pulled his T-shirt low over his boxers and went to let the cat in, because apparently, the big loser was still sore about getting fixed and they hadn’t known it until now.
THE NEXT day, they ran all over town looking at office rental properties, which was actually pretty awesome, considering.
The one in the strip mall on Howe was a big no. The location was great—right next to a bail bond place—but it wasn’t the sort of vibe they were going for.
The one a block away from the capitol building was nice—but really pricey—and, in Jackson’s words, “Built like a Republican was given a bunch of tan Legos.”
There was one off the river, in what had once been a residential building but was now separated into office spaces, but Ellery had balked at both the drive down the Garden Highway and the lack of amenities nearby.
The final one they looked at, on the edge of downtown around 9th and F Street, had seemed okay. It sat at the top of a flight of stairs, which might have been inconvenient if it hadn’t been for an elevator to accommodate those with disabilities. The space itself was large, with four offices and a conference room, as well as a reception area that had a counter and a recessed kitchenette sort of space that Jade could definitely make her own.
The walls were a sort of muted beige that Jackson said had to go, and the carpet was teddy bear brown, and Ellery wasn’t going to live with that either. It needed paint and carpeting and a solid redecoration. All of that might not have fazed Jackson except….
“Parking,” he said, looking out the window. “There’s only one parking space next to the building. Ellery….”
“But look at the ceiling in the corner office!” Ellery begged. “Look at it! And it’s got moldings—”
“I don’t actually give a shit about beveled moldings,” Jackson told him. “Hardwood floors, yes. I can see some nice hardwood here. Moldings can kiss my ass. But parking….”
“We have six more offices to look at,” Ellery’s mother told them crisply. “Two more before lunch?”
Outside, they heard the unmistakable sound of a car smashing into another one, and then a rather ambiguous sound of what they found out later was a light pole collapsing for no reason at all.
“Maybe lunch now,” Jackson muttered. “Somewhere across town.”
He and Taylor Cramer met eyes, and she nodded imperceptibly. “After you,” she said, and he nodded, leading the way while Ellery’s mother made peace with the real estate agent, who had sat in the back of the room and let them bicker over this one.
“Ellery, take the rear,” Jackson said, forgetting that Ellery didn’t suspect what he did.
Later, it would occur to him that Ellery did exactly what he asked without question and continued to move like that, Jackson first, Ellery bringing up the rear, with his mother and the clueless real estate agent in the middle. All day. He did that all day.
But of course, there’d be hell to pay that night.
Brooding in Company
ELLERY MANAGED to wait until his mother was—hopefully—asleep in the next room.
“You weren’t going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Jackson sat on the bed in his boxers, looking ridiculously sexy for a guy who’d spent half of the last year in the hospital, and made moon faces at the cat. Billy Bob batted his lips, claws retracted.
“Tell me there was a hit out on my mother.”
Jackson didn’t even look up. “Why would there be a hit out on your mother?”
“I don’t know—you tell me!”
“Well, since she hasn’t told me, I don’t know what else I can tell you!”
Ellery had never really considered homicide until he’d fallen in love. “What. Did. She. Say?”
Now Jackson did look at him, his green eyes open and sparkling and as innocent as a lamb’s. “She said she was here for a visit.”
“I will beat you,” Ellery threatened, which was a laugh and a half because they were both only just getting their wind back enough to run around the neighborhood.
“Would you like equipment for that, or are you going to use a household item, like a wooden spoon or a shoe?”
“Augh!” He didn’t control his volume either, and Jackson flailed his arms.
“You will wake the beast, and we’ll both be fucked!” he hissed.
“No we won’t, because we don’t have sex while my mother is here, remember?”
Jackson pursed his lips. “Look, this isn’t my fault. She showed up on the doorstep. That’s all I know.”
“That’s obviously not all you know, because we’ve been walking around Sacramento with you running point and me running cleanup like an actual police detail, all day. Care to explain that?”
Jackson gave a sigh, and Ellery thought, Oh ho! The jig is up! I shall have some answers! Ha!
“All I know—all I know—is that Burton left Ernie’s apple fritters on our doorstep yesterday, and your mother was told to stay in public places.”
Ellery blinked. “That… is not reassuring.”
“You are telling me.”
“Give me one good reason not to put us all into protective custody.”
Jackson shrugged. “Because he sent donuts and not
directions for burying our remains?”
“I’m having mine donated to science,” Ellery muttered. “The rest you can burn and scatter.”
“I could donate my remains to science too,” Jackson said helpfully, but Ellery just rolled his eyes.
“Most of your remains have already been stitched together and replaced. I don’t think you have anything left to give. Now scoot over. I need to brood.”
“You need to get into bed to brood?” But Jackson was scooting over.
“No, I need to get into bed to touch you so that we can think together. Jackson, there’s probably a hit out on my mother! What are we going to do?”
Jackson shrugged. “We’re going to turn on the house alarm—”
“Done.”
“And let the hit men watching over us do their job. Also, we’re going to take your mother places because she was told to stay public.”
Ellery narrowed his eyes. “It’s like you’re on her side.”
Jackson glared back. “Ellery, she was threatening to take my coffee away from me. Not in so many words, but—”
“She did not, you big baby.”
“You pretend not to hear it, but we know what this means. ‘Jackson, I think you would enjoy tea so much more than coffee. Has Ellery allowed you to taste some of the more robust blends with almond milk and honey?’ What do you think that means?”
Ellery tried to hide his pleased expression and failed.
“See? It means she’s trying to take away my coffee! No! Not even the doctor has tried to do that!”
“That’s because you lied to the doctor about your intake!” This had been a sore point between them. Their idea of a “moderate” amount varied vastly.
“One pot is not excessive!” Jackson defended, wounded. “And see? Now she’s got you on her side! Just let the professionals take care of it, and don’t press her any further!” He flounced over onto his side, beat up his pillow, and settled in for the night.
Ellery let out a breath. “Do we even know who it is?”
“No.”
“Did you ask?”
“I’m not taking the chance. Why don’t you try sacrificing something you love? Watch. You ask her, and she’ll figure out a way to take away your Lexus.”
Ellery sat up in bed. “She would not!”
Jackson threw a pout over his shoulder. “Want to risk it?”
“No.” Ellery slid back down into bed again and kissed the back of Jackson’s neck. “Damn.”
“Yeah.”
“We were on a hot streak.”
They’d both been recovering, but yes—somebody had come at least once a night since they’d gotten out of the hospital. Jackson hadn’t had this much sex when he’d been banging everything that moved—and Ellery knew because Jackson told him so.
“I know,” Jackson said glumly. “We’re going to have to think of something else to do before bed.”
Ellery laughed. “We could start reading books.”
“Dirty ones?”
“How about Jane Austen?”
“I hate you.”
“I love you, Jackson.”
“I love you too, Counselor. What are we doing again tomorrow?”
“God, I forget. We’ll remember when she wakes us up in the morning.”
“Fine.”
Jackson rolled over just enough to kiss him.
“Night.”
Except whatever it was she had planned never got done.
Jackson’s phone rang in the charger that morning, and he snagged it before Ellery could crawl over his body and claw out its eyes.
“Kaden?” Jackson mumbled. “For real?”
Then Jackson sat up in bed, looking panicked. “No, seriously, did you look for him?”
“Who?” Ellery asked, rolling out of bed and looking for the khakis he’d worn the day before, as well as a sweater and some sturdy shoes. “Who’s missing?”
“Anthony,” Jackson muttered, hopping out of bed to get dressed too. “Yeah, K. Keep us briefed. We’re getting in the tank now.” He paused and looked at Ellery apologetically. “Why the tank? Because it’s a long story that we can’t talk about and Ellery’s mother is coming.”
Ellery moaned. “Goddammit.”
“Yeah, Ellery. Go tell your mom that she’s coming with us up to Foresthill.” Jackson spoke back into his phone. “Don’t get too excited. I think we were coming up tomorrow anyway. And tell Rhonda we can’t stay, so she’s off the hook. Keep us briefed. See you soon.”
He hung up and started his own search for yesterday’s jeans and a fresh pair of undershorts, while Ellery dressed as quickly as he could.
Oh man. Their day had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.
View From on High
THE TRIP up was surprisingly quiet, and at first, Jackson thought it was just because the damned tank was so loud without the extra padding and insulation that Sonny and Ace had pulled out to make it slightly more fuel efficient.
Then he’d glanced in the rearview mirror and seen Lucy Satan asleep, hands folded in her lap, head against the headrest, perfectly composed like a vampire.
But still vulnerable.
He felt bad for a moment. Ellery’s mother didn’t deserve a hit out on her, but then, she was fighting the same people in court that Jackson and Ellery had fought on the ground that winter, so maybe what she deserved and what was happening had no relation whatsoever.
“What?” Ellery practically shouted in his ear.
Jackson just shook his head, unwilling to tell Ellery that his mother looked helpless, because as far as Ellery was concerned, Lucy Satan was invulnerable and perfect, and Jackson didn’t ever want to change that for him. It was wrong on a cellular level to let Ellery think his mother could be harmed.
They made it to Kaden and Rhonda’s house, which was back in a little development called SugarBaker’s Cove. The houses were on four- to five-acre plots, most of the land filled with dense woodland beyond whatever yard development the homeowner implemented. Some people had four acres of swimming pools and tennis courts, but Kaden and Rhonda weren’t rich, only prudent. They had a backyard big enough for the kids to play kickball in, and a lot of fucking trees.
Kaden and Rhonda, and their children, River and Diamond, were out in front, nervously pacing as they pulled up. Two ginormous fucking American boxer-Labrador retrievers were sitting patiently at their heels, waiting for the occasional pet so they could slobber on whoever offered attention first.
“Uncle Jackson!” River had grown. She was, what? Ten this year? A beauty like her mother, she wore her hair back in thick braids and had gotten tall enough for Jackson to rest his chin on her crown when he lowered his head.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured. “What’s going on? You haven’t found him yet?”
River shook her head and wiped her eyes. “He was weird all week, like freaking out and crying. And Mom and Dad couldn’t get him to talk. This morning, we were supposed to go to school, but he was gone before we woke up!”
“It’s a good day at school!” her brother, Diamond, told him. “We get treats and stuff, but maybe not….” He looked at his sister nervously. “Maybe not in the sixth grade.”
“We get them in the sixth grade,” River sniffed. “I don’t see why Anthony wouldn’t get them in the seventh.”
Anthony had started out as a lonely kid who’d taken a job to bug Jackson and Ellery’s car. But once Jackson grabbed him—and realized that the one witness to the transaction had been killed—he’d become in need of protection. Kaden and Rhonda had stepped up because Jackson had asked them to, and because the police hadn’t seen the need at first.
But Anthony, who’d been a foster child most of his life, had fit into the Cameron household as if he’d been born into it. Kaden and Rhonda had asked if they could take over his fostering, and had been looking into an actual adoption—as well as the happily ever after that Anthony had cynically believed would never happen to him.
; Jackson had no idea what would make the kid take off and leave. Except….
“Don’t report cards come out today?” he asked the kids.
“Yeah.” Diamond looked at his father. “I don’t get real grades yet,” he said ingratiatingly. “But if I did, I’m sure they would be A’s.” His smile—wide and white against the ebony of his skin—was extra sugary sweet.
Kaden rolled his eyes and looked at Jackson. “I so believe that,” he muttered.
“Yeah, that totally wasn’t a line.” Jackson tried to look sternly at his nephew, but Diamond’s smirk was just so transparent, he couldn’t. “God, kid, you’d better get your act together for seventh grade.”
Diamond laughed outright. “Well, yeah. They use percentages and letter grades in seventh grade. I know bad things happen to people who can’t figure that out!”
The laughter relaxed the little family for just a moment, and then they sobered.
“Well,” Ellery’s mother said, a big bag of all sorts of treasures over her shoulder, “I’m sure you can completely explain to me why it’s okay to not do your best in school when you’re obviously smart enough to fool the system. But in the meantime, how about I take you children inside and we make some breakfast and let the adults try to find your foster brother.”
“Our brother,” River said fiercely. “He says ‘foster brother’ like he’s afraid he’s going to get moved to another home, and we keep trying to tell him we want him forever.” She pulled away from Jackson to look at him with pleading in her eyes. “Uncle Jackson, we’re the only family he’s ever had. I don’t even know where he thinks he’d go.”
Jackson nodded. “I would bet he’s not far away,” he said softly. In fact, he’d put actual money on it. “Go in with Lucy… uh, Mrs. Cramer, and see what she’s got for you.” He met Lucy Satan’s eyes, and she nodded. “She came from a long ways away, just to bring you some good things.”