by Mary Frame
“It’s going to be fine, Momma. Please don’t worry.” Her voice is low and placating. “I know I should have called, but I didn’t want you to worry. Especially because there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve got it handled.”
There’s a pause and her voice ebbs and flows over me as she moves about the kitchen, turning back and forth. Pacing. I don’t want to eavesdrop, but I can’t avoid it, either.
“Yes, I’m sure. Fitz and I will be fine. I’ll get another job if I have to, but I won’t have to. I promise.”
More silence except for the creaking linoleum under her feet.
“I know I can talk to you. I know that, Momma, but I don’t want you to stress over nothing.”
Pause.
“I love you, too. Give Daddy my love.”
I haul my creaky joints from the uncomfortable confines of the sofa and find her staring at the coffee pot, her back to me, wearing a thin blue robe, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun. Her shoulders are tense.
“Morning.” My voice is rumbly with sleep.
She whirls. “Good morning.” She fiddles with her robe, her eyes downcast.
I approach carefully, standing next to her, and we watch the pot fill together. “Are you okay?” I have to ask. It couldn’t have been easy for her to reach out to her momma after everything she shared last night, but she did it anyway.
The ever-present tension is still between us, but it feels different this morning. It’s not hostile and fraught with tension, it’s . . . fragile.
Her soft brown eyes lift to mine and she nods and smiles. “It had to be done.”
“I’m proud of you.”
Pink infuses her cheeks, and the corner of her lip tilts up even as she turns from me to grab a couple of mugs from the cupboard. “Sorry if the talking woke you up. Momma called and I just decided—” She swallows and meets my eyes. “I decided I should talk to her. I avoided all the fussing, thinking it would ease her worries, but in reality it’s doing the opposite.”
“I bet she feels much better having talked with you. And for the record, you and Fitz will be just fine. I have no doubts about your abilities.”
She smiles at me and it’s like the sun has broken through the clouds and the storm has passed.
She clears her throat. “So how are we gonna get information from this David guy?”
A slow grin spreads across my face. “I have an idea.”
Chapter Fourteen
Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.
—Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit
Annabel
“The stars at night are big and bright,” Jude sings into the megaphone.
Clap, clap, clap, clap. As one, the crowd in the backyard erupts. “Deep in the heart of Texas!”
I shake my head and laugh through the whoops and hollers of the assembled party.
“Babies! Welcome to the first ever Jude Parker Murder Mystery Evening Extravaganza!”
The cheers swell and flow, like they’re the tide and he’s the moon controlling them with the pull of his gravitational force.
They are all dressed up for the party, Jude included. He’s wearing the bow tie again and he even put the glasses on—which he normally only wears when he’s working on his computer. I think he’s trying to kill me.
“Tonight is a night unlike any other. Tonight there will be . . . a murder.”
An ominous chorus of hums interspersed with laughter.
“That’s right, it’s quite terrifying. At a point early in the evening, the lights will go out. Don’t be scared, babies, it’s part of the game. When the lights resume, one of your compatriots will be prostrate. Do me a favor and refrain from calling the authorities as this is a part of the game and none of my babies will be injured during the course of the evening. In the crowd tonight are players who know the story and the events that will play out. They are not participating in the event itself, but will be placing clues throughout the yard. Keep your eyes peeled for the pink envelopes because that’s where you will locate the evidence needed to win.
“Your job, ladies and gentlemen, is to observe your fellow partygoers. Pay close attention, my friends, because there will be clues and hints to find throughout the night. You must find the killer. Once you think you have unmasked the villain’s identity, submit your findings to Mr. Fitz Moreland.” He motions to Fitz, who’s standing next to Reese off to the side. Fitz waves and the crowd claps. “The first to piece together the clues correctly and find the murderer will be the champion of the night . . . and the recipient of a nice pot of money. Good night, and good luck!”
Jude is swallowed by the crowd. I keep one eye on him and one on the rest of the party, observing the crowd of scantily clad coeds. I half wish I had worn something more scandalous instead of a simple black dress—the fanciest thing I own. In my granny clothes, I stick out like an orangutan amid sleek little meerkats.
Jude works the crowd, as he does. People shake his hand, clap him on the back, surround him like adoring puppies. He smiles and talks, making them laugh, putting on a show. A shimmer of appreciation tickles its way down my spine. Memories of the other night play in my mind, making my body tighten. The heat of his eyes, his mouth on my breast, and his fingers in my—
Is it hot out here tonight, or is it just him?
I scan the crowd and find David rubbing the shoulders of a lithe redhead in a sequined prom dress and whispering in her ear.
Jude already set it up so David will be the first victim, which means no one will be surprised when he’s not around for a few hours.
It was almost too easy. He jumped at the chance to be a part of one of Jude’s games. Jude also promised him a cut of the take for the night, so that helped, I’m sure.
Across the yard, Fitz is with Reese. He’s pulling her behind a bush in the back. Probably to make out.
Kinda cute, actually, since Reese loves those bushes.
My lips curve up. Huh. I’m not totally grossed out by their romance for once. That’s weird.
And damn my eyes, but on that thought, they rove right back over to Jude. He’s surrounded by a trio of ladies in short dresses with plunging necklines. They’re standing really close to him. Too close. One of them runs a red-tipped finger over his shoulder and down his arm.
I glance away, ignoring the sudden sharpness in my chest. It’s none of my never mind.
Beast is in the other corner of the yard opposite me. His arms are crossed over his chest and he’s doing what he does best, watching and menacing. He’s got the remote that will kill the lights when it’s time. I glance down at my watch. Fifteen more minutes of this.
The harem of coeds is still cooing over Jude. One of them gets very close, rubbing his arm, and my ears get hot. There must be steam rising from them.
Jealousy is an insidious thing. Another emotion I would like to suppress please, and damn Jude for opening the crack in my heart and letting out all these . . . feelings. It’s like the lack of the past few years is making everything extra intense. I don’t want to hate on women for being assertive and going after what they want. I just wish they would try their moves on someone else.
Then his eyes meet mine, his lips quirk, and he says something to the harem. Something they don’t like. The one rubbing his arms pouts, sticking out her lower lip.
He says something else and then turns, stalking toward me with predatory intent. He stops a few inches away.
“Annabel.” His voice is a low rumble, sparking nerves all over my body.
“Jude.”
“Are you done shooting daggers at the ladies?”
I shrug and keep my voice even. “I don’t know, are they dead yet?”
He laughs. “You ’bout ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
The excitement of the night must be getting to me. Or the proximity. It’s only because I need to get laid and he has talented fingers. And sexy lips. And a totally hot, rocking body. But that’s all.
Dammit, even I don’t believe the lies I try to tell myself anymore.
Our conversation gets interrupted by revelers wanting a piece of him, not that I can blame them. He remembers everyone’s names, makes comments about prior conversations, or asks about their families. It’s like he knows everything.
I nearly forget what we’re doing here, lost in the trance of watching Jude enchant everyone, when the yard is pitched into darkness. I lurch in surprise, especially since people in the crowd shriek and scream.
But Jude is there, right next to me. His hand finds mine, warm and reassuring, and I clutch it like a lifeline, leaning into his heat.
“It’ll only be a minute, long enough for the players to perform their roles,” he says into my ear, his beard tickling the sensitive skin there. I shiver and he wraps an arm around my back.
The seconds rush by and when the lights come back up, he moves away, following the gasps and laughter over to where the first “victim” has met his demise.
“Babies! I hope you’re ready to solve the mystery.”
I don’t need to watch, I know what he’ll find: David on his back with a fake knife stuck in his belly and ketchup on him.
“We must remove the body for inspection and autopsy, but we will return with the results shortly. In the meantime, I suggest you investigate the crime scene for any clues.”
Beast scoops David up like he’s really a baby and carries him off down the side of the house to the garage.
I glance around the yard, making sure Reese and Fitz are done hiding, since they are supposed to help keep an eye out. They don’t know what’s really happening. They think it’s one of Jude’s regular shenanigans and didn’t even ask questions when he asked them for help. But I want to make sure they’re not making out or something before I disappear.
They’re at the edge of the yard, watching and talking and laughing.
Once I’m sure everything is running smoothly and all the revelers are busy searching for clues, I disappear into the house and back to Jude’s bedroom.
My laptop is still on his bed where I dropped it off earlier. After they confront David, Jude’s likely going to have some work to do and I need to start collecting data myself if I’m going to be useful in our endeavors—and have something to give Bruce.
I lock myself in and pull out the monitors, clicking them on like he showed me.
The cameras flicker to life. They’re all over the house, even outside and in the garage.
I hit the record button so all of it will be captured in full living color. More blackmail, if David decides to get even stupider.
The garage is nearly empty, just some boxes packed into one side, a table and drawers with tools scattered about lining the other side, and the floor is grey concrete.
Jude has his laptop on the table. Beast is standing in front of the door that leads back into the house, his beefy arms crossed over his chest. I can only see his back since the camera is up in the corner of the garage, but I get a decent side view of David and Jude.
David is glancing at them and then around the room. “What is this? I thought I got to hang out with the keg and some babes until the mystery was solved.” He’s all smiling frat boy until his eyes trail over Beast, tall and intimidating.
Jude isn’t wearing his normal, happy mask.
David’s smile falters.
“Your prize is telling us where you got this.” Jude holds up the disc.
His eyes flick over the item and then back to Jude’s face. He shrugs. “How would I know what that is?”
“Lying is a bad idea.” Jude’s voice is as hard as I’ve ever heard it. I know he’s a chameleon, but the ice of his tone sends a chill down my spine.
“I’m not lying. Now let me out of here. You can bet your sorry ass I’m gonna tell everyone what a scam artist you are.”
“I don’t think so.”
Beast approaches from behind. David glances back and steps away, but quickly realizes he has nowhere to go.
“I’ll sue you for harassment.”
Jude twirls the disc in one hand and shrugs. “You’re not going to sue me for anything. You wouldn’t want information about your extracurricular activities getting around. You just have to answer a few questions.”
“I don’t have to tell you shit.” David crosses his arms over his chest.
“You don’t have to tell me much. I already know you’ve been running errands for someone in the FBI who isn’t really FBI and they’ve been paying you to help them with some after-hours activities. Do you even know what you’ve been doing?”
David blinks rapidly, his throat moving on a swallow. “How do you . . .”
“You aren’t the only one wearing a hat in this town and you definitely aren’t the best.”
“Oh yeah? Then why did the FBI recruit me to help them?” He’s back to the cocky assurance.
Jude is unimpressed. “Really? You think that’s who’s paying you? You didn’t bother tracing them, did you?”
“Of course I did. It’s legit. I’m not an idiot.”
Except he sort of is because he just basically admitted to everything.
“Listen to me closely. I’ll speak real slow so you can understand. The FBI did not contact you.”
“Yes, they did,” he argues.
“Someone pretending to be the FBI may have contacted you, but not an actual agent. Let me guess, they told you to verify them by tracing their IP to confirm their legitimacy?”
His mouth pops open. “Well . . .”
“Have you even seen them in person, or did they just message you through the computer?”
David’s eyes are about to pop out of his head, looking like two fried eggs on a hot plate.
“Anyone can filter their IP through an address in another state. You got handled, and hard.”
David’s silent for a few long seconds and then his eyes narrow. “You’re wrong. There’s money in my bank. Money doesn’t lie.”
“Oh. You mean, the money in this account?” Jude pushes a few buttons on the computer.
David steps closer to the screen, his eyes widening as he recognizes the information. “How did you—”
I can’t see it from where I’m standing, but I’m pretty sure Jude has David’s account details up on the screen.
“If you don’t tell us everything you know . . . “ Jude hits a few buttons and whatever happens on the screen is not good for David.
“What are you doing?” His voice is shrill and high and he lunges toward Jude, but Beast is too close. He grabs David’s arms and yanks him back with one hand, as easy as he would the string of a balloon.
“A simple hack. You should have protected your assets more carefully. This is another reason I know the FBI did not contact you. Any black hat worth his salt knows how to shelter their money. This is a savings account at the local branch on Sixth Street. It’s like you wanted to get caught.”
“What do you want from me?” David asks, his shoulders deflating. Not that he has much of a choice with Beast still gripping his wrists in a vise.
“I’ll put the money back if you tell me everything you know about this so-called special agent and give me access to your messaging system.”
“Fine. Just, just put the money back, okay?”
Jude spends the next hour grilling David on everything he can think of that might help. Every task he’s ever been assigned, why Bryce was blackmailed into helping (because David didn’t have time and wanted to party—insert m
ajor eye roll here), and what he knows about this purported FBI agent.
Usually the tasks are easy, picking things up at specific places and times. He has to be at the “agent’s” beck and call, though. Hence the money and hence using Bryce when David had other things to do. He gets a message and is generally expected to act within twenty-four hours. Sometimes an hour or less.
Once all that is done, Jude threatens him with total annihilation if he talks, pointing out the cameras and the fact we’ve been filming him this whole time, and then David is sent back out to the party with Beast close behind.
Once they leave the room, Jude looks straight at the camera and grins.
Chapter Fifteen
I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I’ll go to it laughing.
—Herman Melville, Moby Dick
Annabel
There’s a knock at the door and I don’t even have to ask who it is. I’ve been waiting since I saw him disappear from the monitors.
I open the door and yank him inside. He shuts and locks the door behind him.
“You did it!”
“Was there ever any doubt?”
“Well, no, I guess not. It was totally badass, though.”
He’s giving me that slow grin, his eyes running over my face, and I take a step back.
“What are you gonna do now?”
“I’m going to set up an alert so I’ll know when this faux FBI agent contacts David. And then I’ll see if I can figure out where the money is coming from.”
“What about Grace? What’s she doing?”
He rubs his beard, the corner of his mouth tipping down. “I’m not sure.”
Without thought, I put a hand on his arm. He stares down at where I’m touching him. “You think she’s okay? Are you worried about her?”
His eyes meet mine. “She normally checks in every few days, but I haven’t heard from her since she set me on Bryce’s trail. This is the longest she’s gone without contact.”
A knock at his bedroom door has us both freezing.