Grave Legacy

by Lori Drake

  Joey headed for the back of the SUV, beckoning the detective. The SUV’s locks clicked as they unlocked, and Joey opened the lift gate. “It’s a package deal.” She motioned to the back, where a bound and gagged Jack lay.

  Harding stared into the cargo area. “Is this…”

  “The killer?” Chris finished for him, leaning against the side of the truck. “Yup. The surveillance footage shows him throwing an unconscious Wesley into the pool. Oh, and there’s this.” He produced a plastic baggie containing an empty syringe from his coat pocket. “The source of the ketamine in Wesley’s system.” Technically, they’d squeezed out one of the remaining doses, but hopefully it’d pass muster.

  “We thought it might help you get in good with your new boss,” Joey added. “Maybe get you a step closer to getting back into homicide.”

  “Definitely a step in the right direction,” Harding said. “Thanks.”

  Joey hauled Jack out of the trunk and pushed him at the detective. “Sorry about the face. He, uh, resisted citizen’s arrest.”

  While Harding walked Jack over to his car and helped him get into the back seat, Joey closed up the back of the SUV and rejoined Chris, slipping her hand in his. He smiled down at her. It was a tired smile, but it warmed her heart.

  Harding turned back to them once Jack was settled. “So, what do I owe you for this little favor?”

  Joey tilted her head. “Owe? We’re the ones that owe you, remember?”

  “I don’t imagine this makes us even,” Chris added. “But I hope it shows that we are willing to work with you. Maybe even be friends one day.”

  “Maybe,” Harding said, scratching his jaw. “I’d better get him to the station. Thanks… I think.”

  They watched Harding’s car pull away. Once it vanished down the ramp and into the garage, Joey turned to Chris. “Sleep?” she said.

  Bending down, he touched his lips to hers. “Sleep,” he agreed. “But not here. Let’s find a hotel.”

  She moaned, because that sounded like a much faster path to sleep than driving back to Granite Falls. “Will anywhere even let us check in this early?”

  “I know of a hotel with an unexpectedly empty block of rooms…”

  24

  Joey looked out at the crowd of black-clad mourners seated in neat rows opposite her. She’d stood in this position before. Not this exact spot, mind you, but at a podium like this one, between a flower-festooned coffin and a portrait on an easel. The weight on her chest and butterflies in her stomach were familiar, too. She’d felt this same way before delivering Chris’s eulogy, but, this time, at least she’d written something ahead of time. She cast a final glance at her speech before looking out over the crowd again. Chris caught her eye and gave her a subtle thumbs-up.

  She swallowed, then began. “My mother’s final words to me were: ‘We all have our crosses to bear.’ I think we can all agree that, as parting words go, those are pretty damn profound. But that was my mom for you. She was never at a loss for words. You couldn’t count on them being the ones you wanted to hear, but you could always count on her to tell it like it was. She had no trouble speaking her mind. Speaking from the heart was… harder.” Joey hoped saying that hadn’t been a bridge too far, but the only reaction it got was nodding heads.

  “Mom had her own share of crosses to bear. She was the eldest child in her family, yoked with lofty expectations. She took over the family business when her father died. She was only nineteen. And young Adelaide Grant was a far cry from the ultra-conservative woman I called Mom. I won’t share any of the stories I’ve recently learned of her youthful antics, because my big brother thinks it’s disrespectful.” She flashed Sam a tiny smile, and those nearest him chuckled as he grunted and folded his arms. Suppressing a very inappropriate snicker, Joey went on, “Suffice to say, I’m sure the last thing nineteen-year-old Adelaide wanted was to be shackled to family responsibilities. She did it anyway, because that’s who she was on a fundamental level. She always put her family before herself. Always. She put her head down, she did the work, and everyone prospered. That was the Adelaide Grant I called Mom.

  “You’re familiar with the mother’s curse, right? ‘I hope you grow up to have a kid just like you.’ I’m pretty sure my grandmother said that to Mom at some point, because that’s what she got in me.” A chuckle rippled through the crowd, giving Joey a chance to swallow a lump in her throat. “So help me, I was a cross she had to bear for most of my life. But she did her best to make sure I got to pursue my dreams in a way she’d never been able to. I’ll always be grateful for that.

  “Mom and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but I’m glad that I got to know her better in the months before she passed. She taught me so much. The importance of family. To be humble in victory and graceful in defeat. That true strength comes from within. And while my heart is heavy that I’ll never have a chance to argue with her again”—she paused for laughter, smiling faintly—“I know that she’s at peace. Her long vigil is done, and she gave me and my brothers all the tools we need to succeed, to uphold her legacy. The rest is up to us.”

  Her piece said, Joey folded up her speech and stepped away from the podium. She stripped off one of her black gloves and kissed her fingertips, then laid them lightly on the polished mahogany coffin, warm from the later afternoon sun. The last words she had were just for Adelaide, so she whispered them into the wind. “I love you, Mom.”

  The rest of the service was a blur. Joey found herself dabbing at her eyes repeatedly as she sat in the front row between Chris and her father. Reginald had retreated back into himself a bit since emerging from his cocoon the previous day, but nowhere near as badly as he had been before that. It seemed that the Alpha challenge was what he’d needed to realize that even though his mate was gone and his children grown, they still needed him.

  Joey was adrift. With Sam claiming the Alpha spot of their family/pack, she didn’t know where she fit anymore. She’d always be his sister, but she didn’t know if she could be his subordinate. Not peacefully. Then there was the matter of Lucas. Someone had to challenge him, preferably before he had a chance to squirrel her inheritance away into some untraceable location or—god forbid—sell her house. She wanted to challenge him herself, but it’d be weeks before she was ready—not that her reasons for challenging him were solely materialistic. No, she needed to best him on a much more fundamental level. Questions spun around and around in her head, but she had no answers. She wanted her mother’s counsel more than anything, but she’d never have it again. She was on her own.

  The last thing she wanted to do at the end of the service was stand in the receiving line, but she did it anyway. She shook hand after hand, accepted condolences, and thanked everyone for coming. Even Lucas. It wouldn’t do to cause a scene, after all.

  The line dwindled before she knew it, and the last person to step in front of her was Elijah Grant. Joey cringed inwardly, but shook his hand and murmured the requisite thank you.

  Elijah gripped her hand firmly, and held on longer than anyone else had. He seemed to study her pensively, like something weighed on his mind, then said, “I was wrong about you. You did a good job with those hunters. Too bad about the challenge. You would’ve been a good Alpha.” He slapped her shoulder with a meaty hand, then moved on to the next in line.

  Incensed, Joey stared after him and clenched her suddenly icy fingers into fists. At her side, Chris put a hand on her back and rubbed a tight circle. He leaned down and whispered, “Let it go. He’s not worth it.”

  “I’ll show him,” Joey whispered tightly, forcing her hands to relax. “I’ll show them all.”

  The next afternoon, Chris’s house was quiet. Too quiet. Jon and Ben were back at work, while Justin and Sara were off looking at rental properties with Sam. Chris’s pack was at work or school—minus Lucy, who was asleep upstairs, since she had a night shift later. Chris was ferrying another carload of relatives to the airport, with Maria riding shotgun. Joey would’ve gone with
them, but Elijah was among the passengers this time. The thought of spending any length of time in an enclosed space with him made her twitchy, so she’d opted out.

  It was easier to cope with everything that’d happened in the last few days when she had things to do. Left alone with her thoughts, she’d quickly become mired in what-ifs and second guesses, regrets and losses, frustration and anger. She’d come out onto the porch with a steaming cup of coffee to listen to the gentle patter of rain against the roof once the din in her head had grown too loud. It wasn’t doing any good. But Chris would be home soon, and she planned to drag him right back into town for some studio therapy. If she had a car, she would’ve been there already. Alas, she was reasonably certain her car was still in a dry lake bed in Oregon.

  The rumble of approaching motorcycle engines caught Joey’s attention well before the first bike rounded the corner and started up the driveway. Her curiosity piqued, Joey walked to the edge of the porch and leaned against a support beam, watching as the six riders approached the house, two by two. It had to be the Gray River pack, but Joey tilted her head and frowned.

  Abby, Ash, Raven, Laura, Wendy… Who’s the sixth rider?

  They parked, and Joey’s question was answered when the two lead riders removed their helmets. One was Abby, as Joey expected, but she did a double take when the other turned out to be Jessica. The rest kept their helmets on and remained with their bikes while Abby and Jessica strode purposefully across the lawn and mounted the front steps to get out of the light but steady rain. Abby’s eyes were stony when they met Joey’s. Jessica looked more guarded.

  “Hey.” Joey straightened, offering a tentative smile.

  Jessica glanced past her to the door. “Is Chris home?”

  Joey shook her head. “No, but he should be soon if you want to hang around a bit. I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee on—”

  “I’m leaving,” Jessica blurted, eyes flickering in Abby’s direction.

  Joey looked between the pair. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots. She was leaving to ride with Abby’s pack. “Would you give us a moment?” she asked Abby. The gray-haired wolf nodded and turned away, but didn’t seem inclined to wait in the rain or go back to her bike. Rolling her eyes, Joey motioned for Jessica to join her and went inside to continue the conversation. “What’s going on?”

  Jessica shoved her hands in her pockets. “I told you. I’m leaving. I’m just here to grab a few things. Feel free to donate whatever’s left. I don’t have much, anyway.” She paused. “Except my guitar. Give that to Dean, when he gets back.”

  “Why?”

  “He’ll understand.”

  Joey frowned. “I meant, why are you leaving? I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but—”

  Jessica barked a laugh. “You have a talent for understatement. You’ve been eyeing me like I’m some kind of snake since Eric left. You don’t owe me anything, Joey. Least of all any sort of feigned concern.”

  “You’re right.” Joey winced. “I haven’t exactly given you a second chance. And I’m still not sure whose side you’re really on. But Sam told me he asked you to stay and keep an eye on Lucas. I know you weren’t just looking out for number one.”

  “What about the others? Do they know?” Jessica’s eyes darted toward the stairs, and she bit her lip.

  “I’m not sure if Chris told them. Do you want them to know?”

  Jessica appeared thoughtful, then shrugged and started for the stairs. “Whatever you want. I don’t care.”

  Joey caught her arm. “Clearly you do care, Jess. I know you’re a big, tough-girl alpha. Takes one to know one, right? But if you don’t want to spy on Lucas, leaving town isn’t your only alternative. You can come back. I’m sure Chris would let you.”

  “Come back to what, exactly? A pack full of people who think I’ll just walk away the minute the wind isn’t blowing our direction? That’s what they think.”

  “That’s what you wanted them to think.”

  “No. That’s what Sam wanted them to think.” She jerked her arm away. “Stupid me. Deep down, I thought maybe—just maybe—they wouldn’t believe it.”

  “Be realistic, Jess. You were Eric’s second for years. You enabled his schemes. You were in love with him. It’s going to take more than a few months to rebuild trust after that.”

  Jessica fisted her hands at her sides, then slowly relaxed. “I’m not stupid. I know that. But it’s killing me, Joey. I can’t keep doing this. I need a fresh start. You’re right. I was in love with Eric, and you know what a monster he turned out to be. There’s something wrong with me, and I can’t fix that in Seattle. Maybe I’ll come back someday when I’ve got my head on straight. I don’t know. I just know I can’t do that while I’m living a double life, and I won’t do it surrounded by people who second-guess my every action.”

  “Okay,” Joey said. It was the longest conversation she’d had with Jessica in weeks—maybe ever. There was truth in Jessica’s eyes, and for the first time in a long while… Joey believed her. “Do what you have to do, but I’m pretty sure I can speak for Chris in saying that you’re always welcome here.”

  Jessica closed her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before responding. “Thank you. I’m going to go grab a few things, and I’ll get out of your hair. Tell Chris I’m sorry I missed him, and I’ll call him from the road.”

  “Take your time.” Joey watched her go upstairs, sent Chris a quick text message to let him know what was going on, and went back outside.

  Still waiting on the porch, Abby glanced over her shoulder when the door opened, huffed, and turned back to face the yard.

  Joey walked over and stood beside her. “So, this is how it’s going to be?”

  Abby remained silent.

  Sighing, Joey rubbed her forehead. “Look, I know this didn’t pan out like you wanted it to, but…”

  Abby’s boots clomped on the steps as she departed, crossing the yard to retrieve her helmet and wait with her pack. Joey leaned against the porch support again and looked down at the cup of coffee still in her hand, then poured it out into the barren flowerbed at the edge of the porch and crumpled the paper cup. It wasn’t as satisfying as she’d hoped.

  It didn’t take Jessica long to come back outside with a bag slung over her shoulder. She bade Joey a brief farewell on her way past and rejoined the others in the rain. As they prepared to leave, Sam’s truck turned into the driveway and pulled up behind the motorcycles, blocking them in. Sam hopped out of the truck and strode toward Jessica, who hadn’t gotten her helmet on yet, since Abby had been helping her secure her bag to the back of her bike. Jessica drew him away from the others for a private word.

  From where she stood on the porch, Joey wouldn’t have been able to hear them even if it wasn’t raining. Why they felt a need to have their conversation out there in the rain, she had no idea. But she observed their tense body language from afar. It wasn’t quite an argument, from the looks of it, but neither was it a simple goodbye. Sam made an exasperated gesture with both hands, and Jessica placed a palm on his chest, then moved past him to walk back to her new pack. Joey could’ve sworn his fingers brushed hers on the way, and she wondered for the first time why Jessica would’ve done what Sam asked of her—and why Sam felt like he could ask it in the first place.

  There were currents eddying there. But the way Sam stood there in the rain and watched Jessica go for a full ten count before stalking back to his truck made Joey suspect that the matter was far from settled.

  25

  Chris gazed across the table at Joey, trying not to smile too broadly. The two bottles of wine they’d been through over the course of dinner had settled the butterflies in his stomach and left him with a pleasant buzz. It wouldn’t last, not the way his wolf’s constitution burned off alcohol. For now, it was enough.

  Joey tilted her head. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

  Chuckling, Chris shook his head. “Nope. Just admiring the view. Candlelight re
ally works for you.”

  “Okay, now I know you’re up to something.” Her eyes narrowed, but a hint of color rose to her cheeks nonetheless.

  “You’re pretty when you blush, too.” He caught her hand and leaned forward in his chair to bring it to his lips, which brushed her fingers lightly. “What makes you think I’m up to something?”

  “This. All of this.” She gestured with her free hand, indicating the fancy restaurant with its intimate lighting and string quartet playing quietly in one corner. There was a dance floor too, though hardly anyone was using it. He was itching to get her onto it, but bided his time.

  Chris stroked her fingers softly, a smile lingering on his lips. Her hand was so small in his, deceptive in its seemingly delicate nature. “It’s a little strange, isn’t it? We’ve never had a proper date. But since things have calmed down a bit, I figured it was time.” The last of the out-of-towners had flown out that morning. It’d been just over forty-eight hours since Adelaide’s funeral, and—between this, that, and the other thing—they’d practically only stopped moving to sleep since then.

  “Huh. I never really thought about it, but I guess you’re right.”

  “You don’t regret missing out on the wining and dining phase of courtship, do you? Because there’s more where this came from.”

  Her fingers squeezed his, and the candlelight danced in her eyes as she smiled. “You don’t need to wine and dine me, babe. I’m already yours.”

  Chris huffed and held her hand in both of his. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Mr. Romance, I know. I remember some of the fairly elaborate lengths you went through to impress women over the years.”

  “It’s even worse than you think.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “You’re the one I wanted to impress, remember?”