by Jen Talty
“The check,” she whispered. “It just appeared in your coat?” She blinked. “Blaine, the funeral costs. The wedding. Could we have misread his intentions?” In the hospital, she’d allowed the doctors to pump her full of drugs while trying to deal with the loss of her son and her identity as Rutherford Mead’s only child. She had felt lost…alone; Blaine had withdrawn from her. Then she waited for the voices to come, like they had for her mother. She waited for months, but they never came. When she finally had the strength to come back and face Blaine, he’d left town.
“I confronted him.” Blaine raked his hand through his hair. “He accused me of being responsible for his grand…oh my God. He said his grandson.”
“Why would he demand I divorce you in order to get his help?” Kaylee stared into Blaine’s shocked eyes.
“Maybe he wanted to see what Blaine would do,” Emma said softly.
“That certainly sounds like something that man would do. Always trying to test people’s loyalties and screwing with their minds,” Toby said.
“My father used to get a kick out of Rutherford’s games at work,” Blaine said. “No matter how hard Rutherford tried to rattle my dad, he just couldn’t.” Blaine set the pictures down. “I’m not sure Rutherford ever really officially fired anyone, he just got them to quit.”
“I wish I could know for sure how he felt. Was that money supposed to help us or rip us apart?” Kaylee turned, resting her head on Blaine’s shoulder.
“Doesn’t really matter at this point,” Toby said. “If he was trying to help, he certainly had an odd way of doing so.” Toby pointed toward the small space in the back of the office.
“That’s not a secret room; it’s the closet where he kept his gun collection. He had to keep them under lock and key because once my mother found them and ran around the house threatening to kill everyone.”
Emma lifted a brow.
“Like I said before, it wasn’t so cool living here.”
“I didn’t know,” Emma said.
“Not many people did.”
“Nor did they know about the staircase behind the gun collection.” Toby pointed.
“Holy crap.” She leaned over Toby’s shoulder. “It’s dark.”
“Do I have your permission to search that room?” Blaine said.
“Oh, good Lord in heaven. You realize that if I decided not to take the house, you’d own it?” She gawked at Blaine. “Or have you ever thought about just throwing the book out the window?”
He glanced at Emma. “I did that once. Now a couple of people are dead.”
“Oh,” Kaylee glanced between the two of them. “You have my permission.”
“Thank you.” Blaine squeezed her arm. “Let’s get some flashlights.”
“I’m not going down there.” Dark, small spaces didn’t do anything for Kaylee but give her the creeps.
“Yes, you are.” Blaine gave her his best cop look. Damn. He was good. At everything.
“I’ll see what I can find on this computer,” Toby said. “Maybe there are all sorts of live cams around this place.” Toby glanced up as he sat behind the desk. “I can do that, right?”
“Kaylee?” Blaine questioned. “Mind if Toby checks out the computer?”
“Sure, but isn’t that stuff new technology?” Kaylee asked.
“Not really. This stuff’s been around longer than you think.” Toby clicked away on the computer as Emma stood behind him with her hand on his shoulder.
“Come on,” Blaine coaxed.
“Can’t we do this later? Don’t you need some sleep or something?” Kaylee’s airway constricted and her body shivered uncontrollably, but she wasn’t cold.
He glanced at his watch. “I’ll sleep, eventually.”
The staircase wasn’t much of anything but a deadly trap. A twisty ladder at best. Blaine held the flashlight in one hand and her in the other. “I see a switch.”
“I hope we don’t go boom,” she muttered.
“Don’t say shit like that to a bomb squad guy.” Blaine turned to face her. “Don’t move.” He waved his finger at her.
As if she would dare set foot on a floor she couldn’t see. She gripped the cold, small metal that was meant to serve as a railing while Blaine fumbled across the room, hitting a few things on the way and sounding off numerous curses.
A loud hum whistled in the air, the lights flickered, then flashed brightly in a small cubical of a room set up with all sorts of gadgets, televisions, and a computer.
“Hot damn,” Blaine said, then started pushing buttons and more noises filled her ears.
“My mother wasn’t completely crazy,” she whispered, looking around the room. “No wonder I never got away with anything.”
“You were always grounded.” Blaine looked amused. “He had to have known about us all along if this was all hooked up. Look.” He pointed to one of the screens. “That’s the bunkhouse.” He smiled when he glanced over his shoulder. “We had a lot of fun in there.”
“Oh, God. Please tell me web cams weren’t readily available back then.”
“If Rutherford knew what we were doing in there, I’m sure he would have murdered me long ago.”
“Doesn’t make me feel any better.” She rubbed her temples. “I shouldn’t have assumed he was trying to buy you off.”
“It wasn’t like he supported us at all. Everyone thought he’d turned his back on you when we got married. As far as that check goes, only he knows what it meant.” He brushed his lips against her temple. “And we can’t change the past. But this all makes me wonder what kind of game your father was playing with all of us.”
Blaine sat down at the desk and flipped a switch and the rest of the televisions hummed to life. Almost every room was illuminated on those screens.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her father had always told her to make sure she knew what was going on, even inside her own house. She’d never really understood what he meant, until now. “Why would he do all this?”
“Damn it. Toby, can you hear me?” Blaine yelled in the direction of the stairs.
“What’s up?”
“Call your dad, I need him here. Now!”
“I’m on it,” Toby yelled back.
“Why?” Kaylee asked, taking a step closer, peering over his shoulder to see the computer screen. “I don’t understand.”
“These folders are dated and contain video and still pictures.” Blaine tapped the screen.
“How can you tell?”
“By the file extension. I’m going to need to confiscate all of this, but I want to see it first with Dave before I take it to the station.”
“You think my father’s death could be documented?”
“Could be.”
“My mother’s suicide could be documented, too,” she said. Not something she wanted to remember, much less see.
“Let’s go through the desk drawers and files.” Blaine opened up the center drawer, typically used for pens and pencils and such items. “Why don’t you start with that box over there?” He pointed.
“Okay,” she managed, still stunned by the secret side of her father she hadn’t known existed, yet everyone else suspected. Once, when she was about twelve, Rachael had spent the night and talked her into sneaking outside with a beer and a cigarette. Her father had been at a business meeting and her mother drunk and passed out on the couch. She had no idea how her father had found out that she’d had her first drink and cigarette that night. Now, she did.
She glided her hand across the top of the box. No dust. That meant her father was here often; he hated dust and dirt. ‘Neat freak’ didn’t begin to describe his fastidiousness. Her hands trembled as she lifted the box top and peered inside.
“Books,” she mumbled.
“What kind?” Blaine asked.
“Not sure.” She lifted a maroon, leather-bound book. It looked like one someone would buy as a journal. The edges of the paper were silver-lined, and it felt expensive in her hands. Sh
e flipped open the book to a random page and immediately noticed her mother’s sloppy handwriting. “I think it’s a journal or diary.”
“Whose?”
“Wow,” she made out the date. “This is from the year I was born.”
“Read something.”
The noise he’d been making stopped, and she glanced over her shoulder. Blaine smiled warmly, giving her a knowing nod. She took a deep breath and decided to stay on the page she was on.
I felt the baby move today. I love him or her so much it hurts, but the voices say the baby is evil and will destroy everything. I try to tell the voices to leave me alone. I even tried to tell Rutherford, but he got mad because I interrupted him. I remember Great Aunt Marie used to hear voices. Mommy said she was nuts. Am I nuts, too? I hope not. I want to be a good mom to my baby, but I keep having these desires. The voices say I have to. Most of the time I like it, but later, I feel bad. Like I’m dirty. Maybe I am crazy like Great Aunt Marie.
Warm pressure came from behind her. “It’s okay, babe. I’m here,” Blaine whispered in her ear. “You want me to look at it?”
She shook her head. Part of her wanted to feel closer to her mother. To try to understand her. Another part wanted to make sure she wasn’t anything like her mother. She flipped to another page at random.
The doctor says any day now. The voices say the baby is damned. My baby can’t be evil. I don’t care what the voices say. My baby will be loved and when the voices leave me alone, I can love him or her. I think it’s a her. But the voices make me do things that will make her hate me. I hope my baby doesn’t hate me.
Kaylee swallowed. “I had no idea she felt this way, I mean about Dad.” Strong, comforting arms came around her.
“Can you read more or shall I?”
“Yo, Blaine, my pop’s here,” Toby shouted.
Startled, she slammed the journal closed.
“I’ll haul these upstairs, and you can go through them at your leisure.” Soft lips brushed her cheek. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to go to work for a few hours.”
“I understand.” She turned and slipped into his arms, resting her head against his muscled shoulder.
“Kaylee,” he murmured. “You’re an amazing woman, don’t ever forget that.”
“I don’t even know who I am anymore.” And that was the truth. She wasn’t really the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford Mead, or even the bastard daughter of Roberta Mead, local crazy woman. And according to her mother’s voices, Kaylee was evil.
By two in the morning, Blaine’s vision was blurry, and he didn’t think he could look at the computer screen another second. They’d found that over the years, Rutherford had installed hidden cameras that could record anything he chose. And he did on many occasions. But there was nothing dated on the day of his death.
Blaine had started with the most recent date, but nothing on the tapes indicted any foul play. Rutherford had met with men whom Blaine figured were business associates. Hadley had been to the house, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. So they began going backward.
Blaine was worried about Kaylee. The strong, vibrant woman who’d made the decision to stand up and do the right thing was beginning to falter on a downward spiral. He’d seen her do that before.
He arched his back. For a brief time, he’d viewed the world from bloodshot eyes, not a pretty picture, and he was the last to know how pathetic his life had become. He vowed never to let anyone control his emotions again.
Then Kaylee slammed back into his life, grabbing hold of his heart and squeezing it until it drained of blood completely. He loved her. He couldn’t deny it any more than he could deny his copper skin.
He clicked on a file dating back about fifteen years ago with Roberta’s name on it. He’d find the answers Kaylee needed and give her some peace. His heart would have to endure her leaving, but it didn’t have a choice. He didn’t have a choice. She needed to turn on De Luca. It had nothing to do with Blaine.
He wouldn’t even consider the possibility that she’d come back after she’d taken care of Nino and the mess he’d created. She’d realize the need to stop running and start over with a clean slate, which didn’t necessarily include him.
Blaine watched, as way too many local men he knew and respected, entered Mrs. Mead’s private bedroom and then left. At least Rutherford had the decency not to install a camera in her bedroom. Why had Rutherford allowed this to happen in his own home? One could only speculate.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Dave pushed back in the chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “But remember, Rutherford never really acknowledged her disease, and by this point, he just tolerated it.”
“You grew up around here. What do you know about them when they were young?”
“Rutherford’s about five years older than me. I didn’t really know him, and by the time he came back from college, Sally and I had run off and gotten married.”
“I wish my dad were still alive,” Blaine said, realizing his error a little too late. “I mean, to ask him what he knew, working for Rutherford and all.” When Blaine glanced at Dave, he expected to see an angry man, but instead he got a dose of compassion and understanding.
“Your father was a good man, the best. And I miss him, too.” Dave rested his hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “But he’s not here and neither is Sally. These facts I can’t change, no matter how much both your mother and I wish we could.”
“But if you could go back and change things, you and my mother…” Blaine let his words trail off, feeling like a stupid kid. On the one hand, he wanted them both to be in love and be happy. Lord knows they both deserved it. But he missed his father.
“Wouldn’t be the least bit interested in each other.” Dave rubbed his jaw and then made eye contact. “Look. I love Shima with all my heart, but I’ll never stop loving Sally, and Shima will never stop loving James. They will always be a part of our lives, even if I do a crazy thing like ask your mother to marry me.”
Blaine had seen the writing on the wall. His mother loved deeply, and he got the impression Dave did, too. What he didn’t expect to find out was that his best friend and his boss were both going to pop the question some time in the near future. “How long have you been dating my mother?”
“Oh, I don’t know. About five months or so, but it wasn’t really dating. We’d just meet for coffee or a movie. Hung out like old friends. Things changed pretty quickly when we realized we felt something for each other. Neither one of us does anything half-assed.”
Blaine let out a chuckle, slightly amused. He liked knowing his mother wouldn’t be lonely anymore. “If you don’t treat her right, you’ll have to answer to me.”
Dave let out a hearty laugh. “This is twice in the last twenty-four hours I’ve sought approval from children.”
Blaine smiled. “I’m not a child, but I do approve.”
“You and Toby mean the world to me.”
“You get sappy, and I’ll kick the shit out of you.” He’d always thought of Toby as a brother, and Dave as a great-uncle or second father. Now they’d be family.
Family. Blaine took a deep breath. He’d had his own family once. He could still feel Deslin jabbing his back from his mother’s belly while they tried to sleep. His beautiful baby boy had weighed less than two pounds and didn’t stand a chance. His tiny little veins were too small for the needles to help sustain his life.
A firm hand squeezed his arm. “Kaylee turned out to be one strong woman. She’ll get through this,” Dave paused, looking directly into Blaine’s eyes with stubborn resolve. “And she’ll surprise you, I’m sure.”
“I should get out there,” Blaine said, not wanting to think beyond the next day.
Dave glanced at his watch. “Did you sleep at all?”
Blaine rubbed his unshaven jaw, although he didn’t have much of a five o’clock shadow. “I’ll sleep later. I should get out on the roads.”
“I think we need to call State in on
this one.”
“I couldn’t agree more, but I want to look at everything before we do. Something tells me there are hidden files on this computer.”
Dave rolled his neck and then glanced at his watch. “I need to let Shima know I won’t be coming home. I don’t want her to worry.”
“It’s two in the morning; I’m sure she’s asleep.”
Dave arched a brow. “If I don’t call, and she wakes up, I’ll be in the doghouse. Not something I’m prepared for just yet.”
“Whatever. You gonna pack this stuff up? Or have State come here?”
“I think I’ll check things out, meet you around eight at the station, and we’ll deal with State then.”
“Works for me,” Blaine said. He headed up the makeshift staircase with confusion in his heart.
Only the small reading lamp was on in the den. When Blaine rounded the dimly lit corner to the hallway, he realized the rest of the house had gone to sleep. Good for them. He took the first step upstairs. He just had to check on her and make sure she was okay.
A small light illuminated from under the master bedroom door. He hoped she’d just fallen asleep with the lights on. It had always amazed him that she could sleep with the house lit up like it was noon on a hot summer day.
He pushed back the door with a gentle tap. She lay on the bed, ankles crossed and eyes closed. A large, blue book was open across her chest. He crept quietly across the room and pulled a blanket from the chair in the corner and covered her.
“Thanks.” She shifted, barely opening her eyes. “Too tired to move.” She handed him the book and snuggled deep down in the bed. “Be careful,” she whispered.
“Always.” He pressed his lips across her forehead and inhaled her fresh strawberry scent. He wanted to crawl in bed and hug her close, but duty called. He stopped briefly at the bedroom door and turned to look at her. She peeked open one eye and smiled, and then closed it again.