by Karen Rose
‘Of course he did.’ But even as he sighed the words, his throat closed up. He was so damn grateful that he had these people, people who cared.
Please don’t let them get hurt, he prayed. Please don’t let anyone else die.
Chevy Chase, Maryland,
Tuesday 14 June, 7.05 P.M.
‘Wow,’ Gwyn breathed as Thorne drove them around a perfectly landscaped bend at the end of the long driveway leading to the home of Darian Hinman. ‘We’re never going to get to him for even a hello. These are the kind of people who have butlers and maids and valets who say “sir” and put your socks on for you.’
Thorne chuckled, just as she’d hoped he would. His hands loosened their death grip on the steering wheel, at least a little. ‘I hope I’d think of something better for them to do than put my socks on for me.’
He pulled the car up to the front of the mansion, which was lined with actual pillars, like it was some antebellum antique. It might actually be, Gwyn thought, taking the place in. It had a rolling front lawn where honest-to-god peacocks strolled without a care.
‘I wonder if Hinman’s butler cleans up after those damn peacocks,’ Thorne said dryly. ‘Talk about fucking pretentious.’
She nodded. ‘Pretentious. That’s the word I was looking for. I keep expecting women in hoop skirts with parasols to come round the house any minute. Is this joint as old as it looks?’
‘Yep. Property records say the main house was built in 1851. It’s been in Hinman’s family from day one.’ He glanced up to his rear-view mirror, frowning slightly at the sight of Ford and Alec approaching in their van. The black SUV with Joseph’s hand-picked agent brought up the rear.
‘Alec and Ford are not going to leave you,’ Gwyn murmured. ‘You’re going to have to be okay with it.’
‘No, I don’t have to be okay with it,’ he snapped. ‘I might not be able to make them leave, but I don’t have to be okay with it.’
‘Fair enough.’ She cast her gaze up at the three-story mansion. ‘I find myself admiring this place kind of against my will.’ She glanced at Thorne. ‘Does that make me a bad person?’
‘No.’ He reached over to cup her jaw. ‘It’s a beautiful structure. Does that mean you want a place like this, maybe even a little?’
Gwyn laughed, but leaned into his touch. ‘No way. That’s way too many toilets to clean.’
He leaned over the center console to brush a kiss against her cheek. ‘That’s what I’d get the butlers and maids to do. I have to say, you’d look awfully pretty in one of those fancy dresses with your hair done up like that. Princessy.’
She blushed. ‘Stop making fun of me,’ she mumbled.
‘You think that?’ He tugged her chin until she faced him. ‘I was being serious. When you came out of that salon today, you took my breath away.’
She smiled at him, pleasure lighting up her dark blue eyes. ‘Thank you.’
He kissed her forehead, then let her go. ‘I don’t suppose you’d stay in the car or go wait in the SUV with Joseph’s guy?’
‘No and no. His name is Detective Rivera, by the way.’
‘Don’t want to know,’ he grunted as he extracted himself from Gwyn’s small car. ‘Don’t want to get attached to them in case they get hurt.’
‘I suppose that’s fair too,’ Gwyn allowed. ‘But remember his name, just in case you need to speak to him.’
‘I’ll answer to just about anything,’ the detective in question said as he approached. ‘Agent Carter said I should accompany you on this visit.’
‘So I don’t punch Darian Hinman in the nose?’ Thorne challenged.
‘No,’ Gwyn said. ‘So I don’t punch him in the nose.’ Because she wanted to. This was one of the Neanderthals who’d beaten Thorne all those years ago. Beaten him and kicked him until he could barely walk. ‘Asshole.’
Rivera grinned. ‘If you do punch him, I’ll have to take you in and Joseph will have you confined. He told me to tell you that.’
Thorne rolled his eyes. ‘And your obedience was such a hardship.’
‘Nope,’ Rivera said cheerfully. ‘I wanted to say that.’ He looked over his shoulder at Alec and Ford, who wore amused looks. ‘You can stay in the van if you want, guys.’
‘Nope,’ Alec mimicked, just as cheerfully. ‘Our boss told us to stick close, just like yours did. Shall we?’
Gwyn led the way, watching the sidewalk for gaps in the mortar that would destroy the heels on her newest shoes. Thorne was at her side seconds later, though.
‘Do not get separated from me,’ he commanded.
‘Fine. But I still say we’re never gonna get past the butler.’
‘That’s why I’m here,’ Rivera said, more seriously. ‘I’ve got a badge.’
Well, at least he’ll be good for something. Then she abandoned the thought to enjoy the front garden before they knocked on that grand front door. The hedges lining the walkway had that wonderful old-garden smell that tickled her nose, making her smile.
‘What?’ Thorne asked, looking down at her with a fond smile of his own.
‘The hedges. My aunt had them in her garden in Baltimore.’
‘The aunt you named your part of Sheidalin for?’ he asked, and it took her a second to remember that she’d said as much on Sunday evening when the group had met in her apartment to strategize.
‘Yes,’ she said, stiffly now, and he frowned. He hadn’t believed her Sunday night either. She’d seen it in his face as she’d studied him in the mirror on her living room wall. She saw it now and was grateful to be coming up to the front door.
With any luck, he’d be sidetracked enough that he’d forget about the question. But you do have to tell him about Aidan sooner versus later.
Yes, but later. Much later. When she’d gotten used to this new thing they had going and had more stable ground beneath her feet. Then she’d confess her deepest regret.
She drew one more deep breath, wanting the calming scent of the hedges. But what she drew in was the antithesis of calming. What she drew in was the antithesis of life. Oh God, she thought as queasiness rolled through her stomach.
‘Fuck,’ Thorne muttered. ‘Not again.’ He turned to Rivera. ‘Do you smell it? Something or someone is very dead in there.’
One look at Rivera’s face answered that question. He was already reaching for his radio. ‘I’m your alibi. You’re welcome. Go wait in your vehicles, please.’
Gwyn was only too happy to comply. Backing away, she covered her mouth with her hand, desperately needing fresh air and trying not to gag. She found herself being supported by Alec and Ford, each young man taking one of her arms.
‘Dammit, I hate that smell,’ Ford muttered.
‘I, on the other hand, love it,’ Alec said sarcastically. ‘Fuck, Ford. Everyone hates that smell.’
Back at the car, Gwyn drew in huge lungfuls of fresh air. Thorne was still standing next to Rivera as the detective called in the obviously dead something on the other side of the door. Whoever or whatever it was, it had been dead for some time.
Gwyn could only hope Thorne had an alibi for that time too.
Eighteen
Hunt Valley, Maryland,
Tuesday 14 June, 7.30 P.M.
‘Hey, baby.’ Frederick kissed the top of Taylor’s head when she let him in through Clay’s front door. ‘How’s your sister?’
‘Happy as a clam,’ Taylor reported. ‘Ford and I took her riding in the cart this morning and she loved it.’ She grinned. ‘She even held the reins for a little while.’ She smacked his arm lightly when he frowned at her. ‘Relax. It was with Gracie. She’s the best-trained horse here on the farm. I control her with verbal commands and Ford had a secondary set of training reins. Do you really think we’d do anything dangerous with Julie? With anyone here on the farm?’
Chastised, he shook his head.
‘Sorry. You’re right. Thank you for taking such good care of her.’ He looked around. ‘Where is she?’
‘In the kitchen with Cordelia and her aunt. Izzy’s making cookies with them.’ She gestured with her head toward the study. ‘Pops is waiting for you.’
She entered with him, taking one of the two leather chairs in front of Clay’s desk where her ‘bio-dad’ – her words, not his – sat studying his monitor, one hand absently patting the infant resting in the sling he wore strapped to his body. Something about the sight of the big man cradling the tiny baby made Frederick’s chest tight. He missed those days. Missed the times he’d cuddled his girls.
Someday he’d have grandchildren, but not any time soon. Both Taylor and Daisy had had their adolescence stolen from them by his naïvety and stupidity. They deserved the chance to live their lives before taking on the responsibility of families of their own.
Taylor cleared her throat meaningfully, making Clay look up. He motioned to the other chair. ‘Sit,’ he said distractedly to Frederick.
‘Please,’ Taylor inserted, as if rebuking a child.
Clay rolled his eyes. ‘Please,’ he repeated.
‘Am I in trouble?’ Frederick asked lightly.
Clay scrubbed his free hand down his face. ‘No. I’m just watching Stevie. She and Paige are calling on the elite.’ He pitched his voice to sound snooty.
‘Stevie’s wired for audio and video,’ Taylor explained. ‘She and Paige have gone to talk to the women from Patricia’s fund-raising group, trying to find out more about her husband and possibly the boy she was . . .’ Her forehead crinkled. ‘“Affair” sounds wrong. If he’s that young, it’s assault. But I’m not sure what to call it until we figure out who the kid is.’
‘Have they found anything so far?’
Clay rolled his eyes. ‘Only that most of these women have way too much time on their hands.’
‘Not fair,’ Taylor chided. ‘Several of them do amazing work for the community. But a few play a lot of tennis and get a lot of mani-pedis,’ she allowed.
‘What’s a mani-pedi?’ Frederick asked.
Clay cut Taylor off with a look when she started to explain. ‘That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about,’ he said.
Because Clay had asked him to come over as soon as he’d dropped Jamie off to see Phil.
‘Sorry if I made you wait,’ Frederick said. ‘Jamie finally got to sleep, so I wanted to let him rest before I had to wake him up to go back to the hospital.’
And then he’d stopped to check on Sally Brewster, who was just fine. He’d been extra worried about her after all the violence the night before.
Clay waved his hand. ‘That’s okay. That’s more important, actually. What I want to discuss will take a few days anyway.’ He nodded at Taylor. ‘Tell him. I can’t talk and watch Stevie at the same time.’
It was Taylor’s turn to roll her eyes. ‘Not like she’s a former cop, or that Paige is a world martial arts champion, or that both of them shoot as well as you do,’ she said sarcastically, earning her a faux glare from Clay.
‘Don’t be disrespectful,’ he said, and Taylor laughed.
‘Okay, Pops,’ she said cheerily, laughing again when Clay’s eyes narrowed. Every time Frederick heard her laugh, he knew he’d made the right call in selling his ranch in Northern California and moving his household to Maryland. ‘So,’ Taylor said, her expression growing serious. ‘Clay and Stevie are going to postpone the baby’s christening.’
He wanted to say no, don’t do that, but he didn’t, because he knew that Clay and Stevie were being prudent. So many of their friends were also friends of Thorne. Having the christening meant they’d all be in the same place at the same time, and Tavilla’s man had already proven he could get onto Clay’s property – in broad daylight.
‘It’d be like shooting fish in a barrel,’ he murmured.
‘Exactly,’ Clay said grimly.
‘But they don’t want Tavilla or any of his cohorts to know the christening is cancelled. Stevie’s taking the baby to Chicago. Clay’s old partner Ethan lives there with his wife. They can protect them there. They want the bad guys to come here. They want them to think that we are happy and helpless.’
Frederick nodded, liking the plan. ‘And the rest of the women and children?’
‘Are all being evacuated for the weekend, including Julie,’ Taylor said.
Clay looked up from the monitor, his expression fierce. ‘Tavilla is playing with Thorne and we’re caught in the crossfire. Chad Ingram is still fighting for his life. Sam is out of commission for several weeks, as is Phil, meaning both Ruby and Jamie are distracted, which is completely understandable. Hell, I’m distracted, which is completely understandable. I don’t want to worry about my wife and children getting shot at every time they leave the house. I don’t want you to have to worry that someone is going to get to Julie, or for JD to be constantly worried about Lucy and his kids. We can’t sustain this level of vigilance for that long.’
‘I think Thorne plans to offer himself up if it continues,’ Frederick said grimly. ‘Jamie’s terrified that he will.’
‘I thought the same thing,’ Clay said. ‘We can’t let him do that. It won’t matter anyway. Tavilla doesn’t seem to want Thorne. He wants to hurt Thorne.’
‘So all the women and children are shipping out. I like that.’ Frederick glanced at Taylor. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going with them. I have to protect Julie, at least until they get there. Once they arrive, I can fly back. Apparently Ethan’s wife knows some nurses, volunteers at a local women’s shelter that she runs. They’ve offered to help out. I can be back by Saturday morning.’
‘I told her to stay up there,’ Clay said, and Frederick wondered if the man knew he’d wrapped one big hand around the baby he cradled against his chest. ‘She doesn’t listen to me. So I thought you could tell her.’
Frederick laughed at that. ‘You think she’ll listen to me? You must have a much higher opinion of me than you should.’
‘Told you,’ Taylor said smugly.
Clay shot her a real glare. ‘Brat.’
‘That’s fair,’ she allowed. ‘I’m still coming back. I’m one of your best shots. JD might be better than me, but only if he’s having a really good day.’
‘Brash brat,’ Clay amended.
‘Brash genes,’ she said with a smile, then reached over to grab Frederick’s hand. ‘And super-brash training.’
Because Frederick had trained her well. He’d had her practice both her shooting and martial arts every single day. She’d have earned a black belt had she trained in a traditional dojo. She was a fierce fighter, one he’d have been proud to have on his own team back in his army days. Except that she was Clay’s daughter too.
‘You should listen to your father,’ he said quietly, and meant it.
Clay gave him a grateful look, but Taylor just shook her head. ‘You know I love you both, and it gives me warm fuzzies that you get along so well, but just let it go. Both of you. What’s next?’ she asked, turning to Clay. ‘You said you don’t want to send out a blanket email canceling the christening because it could fall into the wrong hands, and Tavilla could get tipped off and then not come here at all. But assuming he does come here thinking we’re having a christening, how do we make sure other innocent people don’t show up and get hurt?’
‘We’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way and call people, one at a time. Most of the folks attending know Stevie was shot at. Most of them I trust implicitly. What we’re going to say is that she strained her old injury when I pushed her out of the way, and she doesn’t think she’s up to coping with all the guests at once. So we’re just going to have family and godparents attend this Saturday and we’ll throw a big bash later in the summer.’
‘Who are the godparents?’ Frederick as
ked.
‘Stevie’s sister is Mason’s godmother,’ Clay said. ‘And my friend Ethan is his godfather. Ethan and his wife had already planned to fly in tomorrow night. Ethan will still do that, then drive back with Stevie and the others. I trust him with my life. And, more importantly, with Stevie, Cordelia and Mason’s lives.’
Frederick frowned. ‘That seems dangerous too, though. They’ll be sitting ducks on the open road.’
Clay acknowledged his concern with a nod. ‘We’ve planned to do a vehicle switch. Leave in our own personal vehicles, drive to a covered garage, then transfer to other vans. JD and I will drive our personal vehicles away, playing decoy. Paige and I have added a few bodyguards to our staff in the last year. I’ve pulled them out of rotation and they’ll accompany the group. They’re fully vetted, all former cops or military. I trust them all. I’ve coordinated operations like this before.’
Clay might trust his staff, but Frederick didn’t know them. ‘I’ll go too.’
Clay shook his head. ‘I want to go as much as you do, but that’s kind of the point of the operation. We stay and take care of the investigation and drawing Tavilla’s men.’
Frederick drew a breath. ‘That has to be good enough for me then.’ He glanced at Taylor. ‘Where does Ford fit into all this?’
‘He’s helping us drive up there.’ She glanced at the wall clock, a small frown furrowing her brows. ‘Right now, he and Alec are with Thorne and Gwyn. He hasn’t checked back in almost an hour. I’m getting a little worried.’
Just then, all three of their phones buzzed at the same time. Not good, Frederick thought, his intuition confirmed when he looked at the screen. Well, shit. ‘Mine’s from Gwyn,’ he murmured.
‘Mine’s from Alec,’ Clay said.
Taylor sighed. ‘Ford. They’ve got another nasty-smelling corpse.’
Darian Hinman was dead. ‘One more link to Thorne’s past eliminated,’ Frederick said quietly. This was insane. ‘We’re definitely moving the kids out.’
‘Yeah.’ Clay’s body had tensed, but his hand on his son remained gentle. He took sheets of paper out of his printer. ‘I divvied the names up and wrote the script below. These are all the guests we need to cancel on, and what I want you to say. If anyone asks why I didn’t call myself, tell them that I will contact them as soon as I can.’