“Was he a priest too?”
This time, Georgie did laugh. “Nick, a priest? Yeah, right.”
~~0~~
Mason drove his 4Runner onto Upper State Street. It was not what Georgie expected. It was a portion of Portland she had actually never seen; not even when Jeffrey’s dad passed away. Mr. Sanders had been cremated and by the firm wishes of the deceased, there had been no memorial service; neither at the church or home. So, even then, Georgie had not set foot in Jeffrey's house.
The houses were older, but not as old as older Portland; nicely spaced, all multi-level and yards neatly trimmed. They had to be in the three to four hundred thousand dollar bracket, if not more.
“He lives nice, your accountant.”
“Hey, I pay my people well,” she told Mason. “I just didn’t know how well. Actually, I think it’s old money here. His dad probably bought this when it was under a hundred thousand. You can see it’s been renovated. This is an area I’ve not seen before.”
Nick opened his door, but Georgie kept him from getting out. “No. I’ll do it,” she said.
“Do what?”
“I don’t know,” she said, getting out. “But I’ll do it when I get there.”
“Get your butt back in here.”
By that time, Georgie was out of the car and going up the brick walkway. Somewhere a small dog barked. She turned to look. All the houses had one or more lights on, but not here. Jeffrey’s house was dark; not even the walkway was lighted as were the rest of the houses. Georgie shivered. Her coat wasn’t keeping out the cold and she rubbed her arms. She tugged at the sleeves to cover her hands.
Mason and Nick came up behind her with flashlights. Nick and she made their way to the garage while Mason went to the house. The large doublewide garage door was not completely down. If the alarm was set, it was unlikely to be activated here.
“Nick!” she hissed.
But by that time, Nick had already raised the door so they could look inside. No alarm went off, and he grinned at her. A dim light on the wall did come on automatically, and revealed a neatly kept garage... but no vehicle.
“Talk about a neat-ass garage,” Nick murmured. “This guy is...”
Georgie was about to walk in, but Nick’s out stretched arm stopped her. He pointed to an area near the cement floor and midway up. She saw two small red lights. He motioned the other wall. Two more lights.
“No one’s home,” Mason said, coming up behind them.
Georgie pointed at the security red lights.
“High-end security,” he said. “No movement in the house; not a single light is on.” He moved the flashlight beam slowly about the garage. The shelves were all neatly kept, labeled with plastic covers over the wording, work tools all hung on hooks, not random nails. The cement floor was clean.
“Wow,” Mason murmured, “Not even an oil or grease stain.”
When an upstairs’ light came on in the house next door, Nick nudged them to get back in the car. Georgie looked back over her shoulder, and saw Nick snap off a leaf from the nearest shrub and stick it on the track of the garage door. “He comes home, we’ll know.”
Chapter twelve
After pouring each of the men a cup of coffee, Georgie poured one for herself and sat down at the kitchen table. For a moment no one said anything, nor did they drink. Who would’ve thunk it, she thought, her dull predictable life suddenly turning into this.
But it had.
“I say we stake out the place,” Nick said, finally taking a hefty drink. “He’s bound to come home sooner or later.”
“And when the neighbors call the police?” Georgie asked.
Nick’s mouth pulled to the side, and looked to Mason. “That’s right. Dudley Do-Right won’t be at work. There goes my inside contact.”
It took a second, Georgie burying her face in her hands, and her elbows on the table, before Nick’s words sunk in, and Mason’s eyes snapped wide. His eyebrows arched high as he set down his cup and let his full weight drop back against the seat. “The Mad OB/GYN calls me M&M. You call me Badge 747, and the Spook, here, calls me Dudley Do-Right?”
“Mad OB/GYN!” Nick burst out, choking on his coffee, then sobered. “God, don’t ever let Cassie hear you call her that. She will hurt you, my man. I am talking deep pain.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Georgie tried to undo the damage. “I now call you Mason... or Officer Montgomery. And what are you talking about? You call him Spook, and Cassie the Mad OB/GYN. And let’s not forget you calling me, George.”
“All terms of endearment,” Mason defended.
“Uh huh.”
“I think I’ll take a drive over to Jeffrey’s tomorrow,” Nick said, bringing them all back to the now.
When Georgie opened her mouth to protest, he raised his hands to assure her. “Just to have a look.”
“Promise you won’t talk to him.” When he refused to answer, she persisted. “Give me your word, and if you break it, I swear I’ll never forgive you, and you can just find another place to call home, Mr. Underwood.”
“Aww, Georgie Girl.”
The hurt in his face stabbed her, and she grasped his shoulder. “Oh, Nick, I didn’t mean it the way it came out... I...”
“God, you are so easy,” he laughed with a tug to her hair.
With a loud groan of being had once more by him, Georgie gave Nick a sharp shove. “Damn you! But just promise me.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Tell you what,” Mason said. “After I get through with The R.B., and the department shrink, we’ll both swing by the place,” then motioned with spread hands to stress, “just to take a look. I’ll keep him out of trouble... and me. Promise.”
“The lamb taking care of the wolf,” she said. “I can see that’s going to work.”
“What a minute,” Nick put in. “Which one of us is the lamb?”
“Nick!” Georgie glared at him.
“Okay.” He drew back, hands up in surrender. “Not important. Not important.”
“I can see there’s no stopping either of you. Better you go together, I guess. But I want it noted that I told you it is a bad idea.”
“It is noted,” Mason said.
After a second round of coffee, Georgie pointed at Nick. “You will say nothing of this to the kids on Saturday.”
Nick swore his oath while crossing his heart, but she could tell he wasn’t liking the idea. Without looking at her, he went to put his cup in the sink then stood there leaning against the counter. Mason also stood then slipped on his jacket. Georgie wasn’t ready to have him leave, but knew there was nothing to hold him.
“You want to come to dinner tomorrow night?” she asked him, and thought, My God, who said that? It couldn’t have been me. But it had been her, and all she could do now was follow through.
“Dinner?”
“Very simple gathering,” she explained. “My two kids, one spouse, one crazy...”
“I resent that,” Nick put in.
“And Cassie and April,” she finished, ignoring Nick’s comment. “About seven o’clock. Oh. It never occurred to me. Being Saturday night, you probably already have a date.” She swallowed hard and forced herself to say, “You can bring her, if you like.”
He said nothing for a moment then smiled at her. “If I must bring a date, can it be you?” But then looked to Nick then back at her. “Unless you already have a date.”
Nick was quick to defend with a burst of a laugh while pointing to himself with spread his fingers on his chest, then waved off the notion. “Me? Oh, no, no, no. I’m just spending the night with her.” His grin was wide.
“Nick,” she started to plea, but rubbed her forehead instead, resigned to what she could not change, and hoped Mason would understand. To make more of the remark would worsen it. She shied a glance at Mason.
He was keeping his sight on Nick, and to her surprise, his mouth pulled into a smile before pointing a finger. “If you were any other man, I’d make sure you went
out the door with me. But tonight? I’m glad she has someone other than Daisy and Max.”
Nick’s face scrunched up in the most tragic hurtful mask. “You know, I don’t know which I find more offensive, being called crazy or considered benign. Thank you very much, you two.”
The leather felt cold as Mason looped his arm around hers. “Walk me to my car,” he asked, then helped her into her coat.
As she led the way to the living room, Mason and Nick touched knuckles in passing. Nick looked at her but offered no comment. Daisy followed them outside. Even with her coat on Georgie shivered in the cold night. She had to get herself a good Parka, she thought. The days and nights were promising an extra cold winter.
Mason’s cell phone went off. He stopped, pulled it out of his belt holder, and flipped it open. “Montgomery.”
There was a pause and she thought he would move away to talk, but he didn’t. She took a step to offer him privacy, but he took hold of her coat lapel and kept her near him.
“I’m fine,” he said into the phone, and Georgie was certain it was a woman’s voice at the other end. “I’m with friends. No. Don’t worry. The end result would have been the same if you’d been there. Guilt has no place here.”
Tonie, Georgie thought, and her stomach tightened. She had no right to feel this way. Tonie was his partner, but the twist was there nonetheless.
“The Review Board thought administrative leave was best. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s procedure. I’m fine with it.”
As he spoke, he reached out and pushed aside a strand of hair the breeze had brushed across Georgie’s forehead and eyes. More than anything, Georgie wanted to lean into the gesture and feel the hand, its warmth.
“The Board will have another shot at me in the morning,” he said into the phone, “then I go see the shrink. I.A.? I can’t see any reason for Internal Affairs to be called in. The guy’s still alive, but if they do step in, I’m okay with that too. My Rep. will be there. No. Shrinks don’t bother me.”
The clouds separated and Georgie watched the moon cast its silver blue light on his smile as he looked down at her. A rush of heat took her breath away. Tonie might have intruded on their time, but he was here, and his words to his partner were just that, words of response.
“There’s no worry. The Department will temp you with someone while I’m out,” he said. Georgie held eye contact. “Probably Roberts. He’s a good man. I have to go now. Yeah. G’nite.”
He flip shut the phone then placed it back in its holder. Georgie didn’t object when his hand went beneath the open collar of her coat and reached behind her neck to bring her close. She thought he was going to kiss her, but he didn’t. His thumb toyed with the back of her ear, unsettling a peace she had let lie undisturbed for almost three years.
“Were you happy in your marriage?” His voice was soft, his features showing true interest.
“Very.”
“No hesitation,” he smiled, and let his hand slide away. “That’s good.”
He walked through the gate, turned, and waited until she set the lock. He leaned over the fence and murmured with a grin, “Keep Mr. Spook on the couch.”
“I heard that,” Nick called from the porch.
“Nick!”
“I was just wondering what was taking so long,” he said with overdone loud noises of shivering. “It’s cold out here.”
“Then go inside and turn up the thermostat,” she told him, then looked at Mason in apology, but he only grinned in return. “Saturday night?” she asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Cliché,” she said, “Such a cliché.”
“True,” he smiled, gave a quick glance to the porch, then held up her chin. “But sometimes, it can’t be said any other way.”
Though the night was cold and the contact light, his lips were warm on hers, not consuming or demanding, just tender. Since the day Sam last kissed her, she had not felt another man’s lips on hers. All too quick Mason raised his head, let a finger slide down her jaw line. As he walked to his car, Georgie felt he was taking a part of her with him, a part she hadn’t realized she was ready to let go.
The gravel noted his every step, each one sounding farther and farther away. When he opened the 4Runner’s door, he called back. “It’s cold. Go get warm.”
“Night,” she said, and went up the steps to her porch. She let Daisy in the house, but waited at the door for Mason’s taillights to move onto the road.
Inside, Nick was already stretched out on the couch, drapes open. The only light in the room was coming from the kitchen. Georgie took off her coat and hung it on the peg. From her linen closet, she pulled out a warm blanket and pillow. She dropped them on his face, and sat in her recliner to look out the window at Portland’s nightline. For the first time in three years, she found herself missing the crackle of burning wood in the fireplace.
“The amenities in this household have taken a nose dive,” he said, tucking the pillow under his head, then shook out the blanket to cover himself. “Not even a fire in the fireplace.”
Georgie would not let herself smile. “There are two spare bedrooms you could choose from.”
“Nah. You know me. I’m fine here,” he said, adjusting his long body on the couch, then patted the blanket. “Why not tell the kids about what’s going on? They’re adults.”
“Why worry them over something that could be nothing,” she said. “A figment of your over-active imagination.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I don’t think you’re right about Jeffrey. What could I have done to make him want to do that? No. Something’s not right.”
“You’re the writer. Put together a scenario. I think he’s had a thing for you even before Sam died. Which I’m still very pissed off at Sam for... getting himself killed like that.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling.”
“Sorry,” he said. After a moment, he sighed deeply, loudly, and said, “But at least now, I don’t expect him to walk in the door.”
Yes, she knew that feeling too. When had she stopped expecting Sam to come in from the other room with a crossword puzzle question? Or stopped waiting for him to drive up the road? Walk into the shop with a sandwich or tickets for a movie?
Strange that she should feel such calm. Her fingers touched her lips before she knew she’d lifted her hand. If Nick noticed, he said nothing. There were times she could not shut him up, yet he always seemed to know when it was best to say nothing.
“And what if it is what you think?” she asked, changing the subject. “What can the kids do about it? Come back home? Drop their lives and come home? No.”
The train whistle sent its lonely call up into the hills.
“And if someone wants to cause me harm,” she added, “I will not put my kids in the line of fire.”
“They’ll be madder than hell when they find out and you didn’t tell them.”
“I’ll deal with it then,” she said.
“Okay. I’ll probably be long gone by then and the fallout will be all yours to handle. Now, what about Dudley Do-Right?”
She glared at him.
His hand popped up to hold off any tirade she might throw at him. “Apology. What about Officer Montgomery, or can I call him Mason? Don’t you think the kids will notice him at your simple gathering? I mean... he won’t be related to anyone, and there he’ll be. Call me stupid, but I think they’ll notice.”
Georgie laughed even as she scolded herself not to encourage him. “Nick, shut up.”
“Can I make one suggestion?” he asked, putting his hands behind his head, his sight set on the ceiling.
“Can I stop you?”
He lifted his head. Even in the low light coming from the kitchen and now the night-light in the hallway on auto-timer, she could see his narrowed eyes.
“Spare me your indignation,” she told him. “It’s an ill-fitting suit on you.”
He let his head drop back into the pillow and shifted on t
he couch. “As a man to man, I should warn Officer Montgomery about your bitchy personality. It’s certainly unbecoming. You’ve gone to seed, Georgie Girl, gone to seed. It’s no wonder Mild Mannered Jeffrey wants to do you in.”
Georgie reached behind her, pulled out the pillow and threw it at him. He didn’t bother trying to dodge it. He just caught it and placed it behind his head so he could look at her.
“You want to hear my suggestion or not?” he asked.
“No, not really. Where is Cantell Electronics sending you now?”
“Won’t know until I see my ticket.”
“How long will you be gone this time?” she asked, but knew she would get the same answer she and Sam always got each time they asked.
“How ever long the problem or sale takes.” He pulled the blanket up under his chin. “I’m going to tell you my suggestion anyway.”
“Never doubted it for a minute. Tell me your pearls of wisdom, oh Wise Sage.”
“When you introduce Officer Montgomery to the kids, don’t call him your friend.”
“Why not?” she demanded. “He is a friend. Don’t you think tonight proved that? Who else but a friend would put his job on the line by going with a lunatic to Jeffrey’s house in the middle of the night?”
“A guy who wants to be more than a friend, to start.”
“Time for bed,” she said, sitting up in the recliner, and got up. She tapped him on the head as she went by. “Goodnight, oh Great Sage. Nice to have you home. The remote is next to the TV if you want to watch it.”
“Georgie Girl?”
“Yes?”
“You should consider taking off your wedding rings.”
Chapter thirteen
By the time Georgie woke up and let Daisy out, Nick was already gone, his blanket neatly folded on the couch with the one pillow on top. The pillow she’d thrown at him was back on her recliner. She hadn’t even heard the motorcycle start. Probably rolled it down the drive before starting it, she thought, and went into the shower hoping it would wake her up.
Coffee, she thought, once out of the shower and blowing her hair dry, then decided, nope... espresso was what she needed. Something with a kick in it. She would have to ask Parker for his secret recipe. When she took out her favorite oatmeal bowl, there was a piece of paper inside it with 7:00 written on it in Nick’s unmistakable scrawl, a line across the number seven. She smiled and tossed it on the counter, caught sight of her wedding rings and rolled them with her thumb. Nick’s words crept their way back, an echo in the distance, You should consider taking off your wedding rings.
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