Open House

by Mickie B. Ashling

  “Not everything,” Seth said gloomily. “I have a lot of photos saved on the cloud, so pictures won’t be an issue. But the other stuff, my framed book covers, fan letters, cards, whatnot….”

  “I get it.”

  “You’re not mad, are you?” Seth asked suddenly. “I don’t mean any disrespect to you or our relationship, but Mark was my partner for twenty years. I would have liked to preserve some of my memories.”

  “I understand, babe, and I’m not insulted in the least bit,” Bryce said.

  Bryce’s response set him off again, and Seth’s tears overflowed, tracking down his cheeks in swift rivulets. In between sniffles, he apologized. “I’m sorry for the waterworks, sweetheart. I just can’t control myself.”

  “Shush. You’ve earned the right to cry, and if that’s what it takes to get you through this, go for it. I’ve got strong shoulders you can lean on.”

  Seth choked on a laugh and let it all out. Bryce didn’t bother to stop him. To his mind, a blubbering mess was far easier to comfort than someone who buried his sorrow so deep it would crush him in the end. Grief was necessary to move on. He hoped to never see the haunted look on Seth’s face like the one he’d been wearing at the beginning of their trip to the UK. That guy was a hot mess. This new version was a warrior, and if Bryce had to spend the rest of his life convincing Seth he was strong and more than capable of handling any situation, he’d gladly do it.

  If their roles had been reversed, Bryce would have kept it all inside and let it fester. Or he would have lashed out, hurting whoever stood in the way of his fist. In retrospect, he much preferred tears. They weren’t destructive and could easily be wiped away.

  “Have I told you how much I love you?” he whispered. “Even at your snottiest.”

  Seth beat on Bryce’s chest weakly but laughed at the same time. “Beast.”

  Bryce handed him a paper napkin from Dunkin’. “Here you go, babe.”

  “Thank you,” Seth said, taking the offering and blowing his nose. When he was done, he turned to Bryce, and asked, “Better?”

  “Yes.”

  “I love you, sweetheart.”

  Bryce kissed his forehead. “Love you back.”

  Adam had been lingering on the sidelines for a few minutes, probably waiting for a good time to interrupt. Bryce saw him and raised a hand, signaling him to come forward.

  Adam handed him his phone immediately, and Bryce unlocked it and stared at the screen. There were several texts from Owen, each one nastier than the next.

  I warned u.

  fires r my specialty

  he’ll never get his money now.

  can’t prove mold without a house

  fuck u both

  you ruined my life

  it ain’t over

  he’ll never stick around

  I cheated for a reason, u big pussy

  U suck in bed

  he’ll prolly cheat on u 2

  Bryce tossed the phone at Adam, so eager to get rid of it someone would think it was about to detonate.

  Adam read the texts quickly and scowled. “He admitted to setting the fire, the dumb fuck. Didn’t I tell you?”

  Bryce shuddered. “God….”

  “Let me see it,” Seth said, reaching for the phone. After reading through, he asked, “Can I respond?”

  “What are you going to say?” Adam asked.

  “That he was too late. The insurance company has the mold reports and won’t be able to deny my claim. Owen’s pyrotechnics were a big waste of time.”

  “Not sure he’ll get it,” Adam said. “He’s probably thrown his phone away so we won’t be able to track him.”

  “He’s too stupid to figure that out,” Seth said. “May I please, please respond? It’ll make me feel much better.”

  Adam shrugged. “I don’t think it’ll hurt our case.”

  Seth grabbed the phone and began texting. Just before he hit Send, he looked at Bryce. “Do you want to see it first?”

  Bryce reached for it and began to read.

  You POS. I’ve never been happier, and FYI, he fucks like a champ. You must be the one with a problem. Not only are you a failure as a man, you’re incompetent at your job. Your dumb move didn’t do anything except possibly make you stink even more. Two mold experts looked at the house before you started your BS. Their reports are on your boss’s desk. Score one for blondie. Next time we meet, you’ll be in handcuffs, and Bryce and I will be laughing all the way to the bank.

  There was a smile tugging at the corner of Bryce’s mouth as he read the message, and he gave in to it and burst out laughing. Whatever doubts or fears he may have had were obliterated by Seth’s venomous reply. It sure was nice to have a partner who had his back and a knack for words at the same time. He hit Send before he could change his mind.

  “Good job,” he said, looking at Seth with pure admiration.

  “Give me that,” Adam said, reaching for the phone. He read the message quickly and grinned. “Fucks like a champ, huh?”

  “Is that all you took away from that long-ass text?” Seth asked in mock outrage.

  “It was important.”

  “To me,” Seth said. “Don’t tell me you’re bi-curious.”

  “Gross.” Adam made a face. “I love Bryce, but it’s strictly platonic.”

  “Good to know,” Seth said. “I’d hate to start another scandal at the Chicago PD.”

  Adam turned to Bryce. “I think Owen created a monster.”

  Seth nodded. “Damn right. I won’t rest until he pays.”

  “Don’t worry. I promise you we’ll catch him.”

  “I’m holding you to that, Adam.”

  “I accept your challenge. Meanwhile, you guys need to come down to the station and file a formal complaint. We can add arson to the list of charges.”

  “Not until I walk through the debris,” Seth said stubbornly.

  “Let me ask if it’s okay,” Adam said, looking for the closest firefighter. There were only a handful left, but he still had to get permission. After a few minutes, he gave Seth a thumbs-up, and Bryce had to hustle to keep up.

  “Do you have anything specific in mind?” Bryce asked, following Seth gingerly.

  “No.” Despondently, Seth looked around at the piles of blackened wood, crumpled roof tiles, gouged-out sheetrock, and his tears started falling again. Choking back a sob, he said, “This is hopeless, isn’t it? I’m not going to find a damn thing.”

  “It does look pretty grim,” Bryce acknowledged. He scanned the area, desperate to find something, anything that was salvageable so Seth wouldn’t feel so bereft. He knew where Seth’s office had been set up, having helped him move some of his things not too long ago, and he wondered if, like most people, he had a steel filing cabinet to house important papers.

  “Babe?”

  “What?”

  “Didn’t you have a filing cabinet?”

  Seth looked at him and blinked several times, more than likely trying to focus through the fresh bout of tears. “In my office.”

  “Let’s take a look and see if it survived,” Bryce suggested. They held hands, and he let Seth guide him through the maze of rubble. His office was in shambles, like everything else, however, tucked away in a corner was a filing cabinet. It was black with soot, but it hadn’t melted.

  “What do you keep in here?” he asked.

  “Everything,” Seth said in a daze. “Royalty reports, copyright certificates, tax returns for my business, first drafts. Do you think they survived?”

  “Only one way to find out. Is it locked?”

  “No.”

  Bryce tapped the metal gingerly, checking the temperature. He didn’t want to end up with blisters, but he really hoped to get a drawer open and give Seth some good news. It was still warm to the touch and stuck when he tried pulling a drawer open, but after a lot of tugging and jiggling he managed to break it loose. Ashes from the surface of the cabinet fluttered down like tiny black moths, settling on
the papers, but miracle of miracles, everything inside the cabinet had survived. Seth pulled out a file folder and exclaimed happily when he saw the contents. It was a Hallmark graveyard and each card must have marked a special moment in Seth and Mark’s life. One day, when he was ready, Bryce was sure Seth would take out the file and tell him the significance of each item, but he wasn’t ready yet. The important thing was they’d found something to make him smile.

  The police were very kind after hearing about Seth’s loss and helped them both through the tedious process of filing the formal complaint. They each had chargeable grievances: aggravated assault, attempted murder, extortion, arson… the list seemed to go on forever, and Bryce hoped Owen was found guilty on every single count. At this rate, he’d be in jail for the rest of his life.

  It was almost five o’clock by the time Adam dropped them back at the hotel.

  “Let me know if Owen replies to your text,” Adam said.

  Seth rolled his eyes.

  “You never know,” Adam said. “He was dumb enough to do it once, he might do it again.”

  “Text or start a fire?” Seth asked, voice rising.

  “Relax, I meant text.”

  “Okay. We’ll call if we hear anything.”

  “Get some rest,” Adam said just before his car pulled away.

  “I want to crawl in bed and sleep for twelve hours,” Bryce said. “I’m so tired I’m loopy.”

  “That makes two of us,” Seth said.

  They spent most of Saturday in bed—napping, eating, watching TV, and cuddling. Bryce called his office to check in and give Angie a brief rundown on the fire and its aftermath. She’d take care of passing along the news to the rest of Bryce’s crew. He called the guys from BELFOR and had them add Seth’s burned-out home to their to-do list. First order of business was salvaging anything that looked remotely usable and putting it in storage. When Seth could face it, he’d go through it all, and decide what to keep and what would end up in a landfill. Mentally and physically drained, twenty-four hours to lie around and recharge seemed like a small price to pay, considering everything they’d been through. The downtime would put them in a positive frame of mind and more able to face the world and its assorted problems come Monday.

  Sunday came soon enough, and they were driving out to Barrington for the scheduled luncheon with Lil and Grier.

  “We can scratch one thing off the list of things to discuss,” Bryce said while they drove up I-90 toward the western suburbs.

  “What’s that?”

  “Remodeling your house.”

  “About that,” Seth said. “Should I just sell the property and not rebuild?”

  “Good question and one Lil can help you address.”

  “I’ll do whatever is best for my financial independence. I don’t want to be stuck with a house I have no intention of living in; on the other hand, Lincoln Park is a desirable neighborhood. Wouldn’t the new house sell quickly?”

  “I think it will, but I understand your concerns. We’ll bring them up and see what the guys suggest.”

  “If I get Mark’s life insurance benefits, I won’t need to worry about money,” Seth said.

  “You mean when, not if. Osler pretty much guaranteed you’ll win the appeal.”

  “I don’t normally count my chickens before they hatch.”

  “I’ll count them for you, babe. I was thinking,” Bryce said as they exited on Barrington Road. “We should go on another cruise next year.”

  “Yeah?” Seth replied. “That sounds great. Did you have a destination in mind?”

  “How about Australia and New Zealand?”

  “I’ve never been to either place,” Seth admitted. “Let’s do it.”

  “Would you be willing to check out the itineraries and pricing?”

  “Same cruise line?”

  “I was happy with their service. Weren’t you?”

  “For the most part,” Seth said. “I’ll start working on it.”

  “It’ll give us something to look forward to,” Bryce said.

  “Apart from our new partnership?”

  “It’ll be smooth sailing from here on out.”

  “You sure of that?” Seth asked.

  “Very sure.”

  Like the last time, Lil and Grier were the perfect hosts, making certain they were comfortable the moment they walked through the front door. With beers in hand, they sat around the fireplace in the living room and began to make plans. They were naturally horrified to learn about Seth’s home and even more upset when they heard why it burned, but Lil was optimistic about rebuilding.

  “It’s a great property,” he said. “If you decide to leave apartment living behind and move into a house, you have the perfect location.”

  “We’ll see,” Bryce said. “We’ve had a lot of changes in a short time. I’m not sure I want to tackle one more.”

  “I agree,” Seth said. “Apartment living is new to me, and I’m getting used to it. There’s far less maintenance to worry about.”

  “It’s another option,” Lil said. “Life is fluid, and it’s always good to keep an open mind.”

  “Definitely,” Seth replied.

  “I have to use the men’s room,” Bryce said. “There’s one close by, isn’t there?”

  “Around the corner to your left,” Grier said. “You can’t miss it.”

  “Right, thanks.”

  While he was washing his hands, Bryce’s phone beeped, announcing an incoming text. He pulled it out of his back pocket and clicked on the message.

  Keep the light on.

  Bryce dropped the phone and it fell on the marble floor, shattering the glass. The screen froze, but the text didn’t disappear, taunting him like the asshole who’d sent it. Back in the day, when they were first dating and Owen was deep in the closet, they used the familiar phrase as a signal to hook up. Owen’s message was crystal clear. They hadn’t heard the last of him.

  He stuck the damaged phone in his back pocket and rejoined the men in the living room. Grier was drawing sketches on his pad, working off Lil and Seth’s recommendations for the master bedroom, with a heavy emphasis on mirrors and lighting. The dark cloud of gloom that had descended on Seth after seeing his home burn to the ground was slowly lifting with each new design. There would be time enough to break the news about Owen’s hateful resurrection. Bryce wanted to enjoy the look of hope and anticipation on Seth’s face for as long as possible. The rest—crazy stalkers, cops, and lawsuits—could take a backseat. Adam and Jack were on Owen’s trail, after all, and Bryce had to have faith in the system. Any other scenario would be impossible to contemplate.

  Exclusive Excerpt

  Open Case

  The Open Series: Book Three

  By Mickie B. Ashling

  Seth Wilder and Bryce McFarland deal with the aftermath of Owen Lightfoot’s destructive rampage. Once again, the insurance company denies the life insurance benefit despite the compelling evidence regarding the underlying cause of Mark’s death. However, they acknowledge their former employee’s complicity in the multiple crimes that have blindsided Seth and Bryce. They settle to keep their name out of the news, offering the couple a million dollars apiece, which they accept.

  Owen learns of the big payoff and is determined to get his cut. Just when Bryce and Seth think it is all over, Owen reappears, and what follows tests the very limits of their endurance. Through the help of friends and relatives, Seth and Bryce find the strength to keep their relationship intact while seeking out the best way to stop Owen once and for all.

  Coming Soon to

  www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Chapter 1

  THE INSURANCE executive from Hartford, Connecticut, looked sympathetic but resolute. Clearing his throat, he announced his employer’s decision. “Despite compelling evidence, our company cannot reverse the decision on your late partner’s death benefits.”

  Sitting bolt upright, Seth exclaimed, “That’s preposterous! You know damn well
Mark wouldn’t have killed himself if he were in his right mind.”

  He’d been slumped on one of the leather chairs in the boardroom, enduring the final round of appeals over Mark’s half-million-dollar life insurance policy, of which he was the sole beneficiary. His attorney, Doug Osler, had assured him this was a slam dunk and he’d walk out with a check, which was the only reason he’d been persuaded to file the claim. If he’d known the eventual outcome, he would have never given his consent to challenge the insurance’s original denial. So far, it had proved to be the worst decision of his life. The inspector they’d sent from the home office in Connecticut had turned out to be a desperate, ruthless sociopath with his own agenda, leaving a swath of destruction in his wake.

  In a sonorous tone, the insurance representative continued. “Regardless of the whys and wherefores, Mr. Wilder, the bottom line is that our policy holder—your lawfully wedded spouse—died by his own hand. The circumstances that drove him to his death cannot factor into our decision. It would be setting a dangerous precedent.”

  “For whom?” Seth asked.

  “The hundreds who have come before. Once our company softens its policies on extenuating circumstances that drive people to kill themselves, the floodgates will open, and we’ll be inundated with back claims. Beneficiaries will blame the cause of death on everything from the alignment of the stars to the drop in the NASDAQ index. One reason to take your life is no better than the next. Our suicide clause is quite clear and irreversible. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

  Seth shook his head in disgust. “Then why did you bother to send an inspector—and that’s another topic altogether—to measure the black mold levels in the house if there was no hope of reversing the decision?”

  “We have to give each case proper consideration,” the executive replied. “We had to make certain there was no foul play involved.”

  “Bullshit!” Seth spat out. “You never had any intention of paying me, and now I’m worse off than I was before.”

  “I don’t follow,” the gentleman responded.