“It probably started out as protective coloration,” Brady said. “It’s like any other cover, though—stay under too long, and you start to grow into it. You know, it’s not that hard to tear down a person’s self-confidence. It’s actually a pretty standard interrogation technique if you’ve got a little time with the subject.” He took a sip of brandy. “So, what was your dad like?”
Mike met his eyes squarely. “He was the kind of dad I try to be.”
Brady stared into the darkness.
“You’re thinking about cycles of abuse,” Mike said.
“Yeah.”
Mike shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. There’s no history of abuse in our family. Gemma was raised to be independent. We both were. I’ve never understood what Ned did to change her so much, so fast.”
“History can make it easier, but it’s not critical,” Brady said. “It’s a destabilizing process, essentially. Very effective. He probably hadn’t had training in the intensive version. So he’d start out by learning what she liked about herself, what she’s proud of. Then he’d begin slowly to undermine those areas. Start with little questions or criticisms, build up later to full-fledged attacks. Start off sounding knowing, reasonable, more experienced or worldly or sophisticated. Be slightly patronizing as he imparts wisdom from his higher perspective.”
He lowered his voice and smoothed the tone a bit. “‘But, darling, I just don’t want to see you get hurt when you don’t succeed. Besides, it doesn’t make sense to start a career you’ll just have to give up when the babies come along.’ Smile, do something patronizing like a chuck under the chin. She wishes she were more organized? Criticize her disorganized thinking, sloppy habits, lack of coordination, whatever. Anyway, you get the idea. It doesn’t take very long, really. Especially if at the same time, he’s isolating her from any sources of support like friends, or family.”
Mike swallowed hard. “I can almost hear the bastard saying something like that. From some of the things Gemma told M-K and me, I’d say you’re dead on target. When she met Ned, she was still grieving for Trevor. We were really worried about her.”
Brady hated to ask, but couldn’t resist pressing on the sore spot. “Trevor.” He felt his gut twist. “Trevor?”
Mike grinned. “He was a fighter jock. Flew Hornets off the Big Stick. Went down in Bosnia just a few weeks before they were supposed to get married.”
“I’d forgotten about that. I remember when you went home for his funeral.”
“In high school, there were the four of us—Mary Kate and me, and Gemma and Trevor.”
“Yeah. I remember that part, too, now that you mention it.”
“Ned was about as different from him as Gemma could manage. Different looks, attitude, background, you name it.”
“She must have loved him a lot.”
“Trevor? Yeah. You’d have liked him.”
Brady stood and started putting the documents back into the box. “Got the key?”
“Nope. It was right on the table earlier.”
Brady looked around, brought the lantern closer, moved utensils and gear, but the key had vanished. “Ah, dammit, Gemma,” he said under his breath.
Mike stood to put on his jacket. “What’s up?”
“I thought I’d left the key here on the table.” Brady watched Mike surreptitiously check his pockets before he started to his car.
“It will probably turn up.”
Mike didn’t seem too worried, but as Brady watched him back out of the campsite, he decided they were going to have to come clean with each other, and soon. It was too hard trying to remember who was supposed to know what information, and who was supposed to know what who knew...just thinking about it made his brain spin. He was getting too old for this shit.
* * *
“Slow down, M-K. Now, what happened?” Mike pulled the car to the shoulder so he could concentrate. Mary Kate was nearly hysterical. His strong, steady Mary Kate was babbling in relief and fear. Pressure built in his head and chest and he worked to slow his breathing. “No, sweetheart. Don’t call anyone yet. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’m nearly at Northgate. Are you all right? Tim okay?” He listened, willing the red fog to clear from his eyes and mind, afraid she would hear the rage and terror in his voice. “We’ll call the police after I look around. I’ll be right there. I love you.”
Damn, he thought as he pulled back onto I-5. Gemma always said Nikki would protect people, but he’d never believed it. Not until tonight. And it could have been nothing, a stray cat in the yard, a four-year-old boy’s imagination. He didn’t believe that for a second. Someone had threatened his family, and he hadn’t been there.
He pulled back out onto I-5 and stood on the gas pedal.
* * *
Mike burst into the room and pulled Mary Kate into a hard, close embrace before he’d even dropped his keys.
“Dad!” Tim yelled, and charged into Mike’s legs. He started climbing up, and Mike hoisted him onto his hip.
“So,” Mike said, his lips against his wife’s hair, “tell me what happened.”
Tim couldn’t wait. “There was ninja guy at the window. Nikki saved me. I wanted Mom to bring your pistol, but she didn’t need it. She scared the ninja guy away, and he jumped in his car and drove off.”
Mary Kate looked up from his free arm. “Nikki woke me. When I got to Tim’s room, she was standing over him, growling and snarling at the window. The man must have run when I turned the light on. I’ve never heard her growl like that. She sounded like the Hound of the Baskervilles, baying and snarling. I was afraid she’d gone crazy.”
“It’s okay,” Mike said, kissing Timmy’s damp forehead and breathing in the scent of his son’s hair “It’s okay. Sweetheart, I think you and Tim need a little vacation,” he said, giving Mary Kate a straight look over Tim’s head. “What do you think about spending a few days with Grandpa?” he asked the boy.
“Bonzo!” Tim yelled. “Can I take my suitcase?”
“What do you say, Mary Katherine?” Mary Kate nodded, her eyes cold. “I’ll call first thing in the morning and let them know we’re coming.”
“Why don’t you go sort your stuff, Tim? Decide what you want to take with you.”
“X-L!” Tim shouted and clambered down. His feet barely seemed to touch the floor as he skidded into his room.
“Bonzo?” Mike mouthed at M-K.
“Newest word,” she said. Her smile faded. “You aren’t coming with us?”
He compressed his lips and shook his head. “I need to make arrangements for a couple of cases. I can’t just leave them hanging.”
“Mike—”
“I know what I’m willing to do and what I’m not willing to do, Mary Kate. I have a trial in two days I can’t postpone. I tried when all this started, but the judge didn’t care. I need to get someone to take over for me and read them in. As soon as that’s done, I’ll come. I’ll catch the red eye. If not, first thing next morning.”
She tightened her mouth and shook her head, turning away from him. He put a hand on her arm, but she pulled free. “I need to know you’re safe,” she shouted. “And that Tim’s safe. And that whatever craziness Gem’s gotten into isn’t going to spill over onto my home and my son.”
“It’s not Gemma’s fault—” he began.
“I don’t care! I don’t care whose fault it is. And don’t tell me to be fair. I don’t want to be fair.”
“Okay, then try to be reasonable
.”
“That just means, ‘Do what I want you to, Mary Kate.’ Well, I don’t want to be reasonable, either,” she snapped.
They glared at each other for a few seconds. He looked away first, but only by a fraction of a second. “I’m sorry, a chuisle.” It meant, My Love, the beat of my heart. She was that to him, and more.
I hate this,” she said. She didn’t come into his arms. “You’ll take care of yourself?”
“Of course, and I’ll have the world’s greatest watchdog with me. Right, Nikki?”
Chapter Fourteen
Gemma squinted and gave serious thought to retreating to the tent. The morning sunlight pierced right into her brain. This was so not right. No way she deserved a hangover. She’d had exactly two brandies the night before. Two. She hadn’t even felt a buzz. It was hugely unfair that her head felt as if it had been jammed with moldy straw that poked painfully against her skull whenever she moved.
Brady smiled and slid his cup over toward her. “Bad head?” He laughed as he handed her three ibuprofen. “You’ll feel better in a few minutes.”
He was right. The coffee helped. The pills would take a little longer, but her headache was already subsiding to a dull throb. Until he told her about the key.
“So, I’m hoping you put it back into your pocket,” he said.
She swallowed and looked away. “No. I left it on the table.”
“Shit, Gemma. If you were going to file something, why did it have to be the fucking key?”
“I have no idea. Maybe because we’d been focusing on it, and then we got distracted.”
He lowered his chin and raised one eyebrow.
“Okay. And I got loaded. What was in that brandy, anyway?”
“Probably all the stress of the twenty-four hours before you drank it.”
Gemma pointed toward Brady’s cell. He nodded, but before she could touch it, it lit up and rang. “Hey, Mike,” she called as she took the phone from Brady’s hand.
“Hey, Gemma.”
His voice was tight, and all Gemma’s instincts went on alert. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone tried to break into the house last night.”
“Oh, my God,” she said. “Wait. Let me put you on speaker.”
“Brady, you there?” Mike asked.
“I’m here.”
“Okay. Nikki ran the guy off, but I don’t think it’s safe here. So Mary Kate is taking Timmy to her folks’ place in Ohio. Until this is all over,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
Gemma gasped and tried to swallow. “Is everyone all right?” she said.
“Yeah. Pretty much. Pretty shaken up. Tim’s all bent because M-K didn’t come charging into his bedroom with my pistol, but otherwise, pretty much okay.”
“Mike, I’m so sorry about this,” Gemma began. “This is my fault. I feel responsible for causing all this trouble.”
“You’re not causing it, Gemma. I told you before, you’re the focus of it, not the cause.”
That wasn’t a lot of help. She’d felt the tension between her brother and sister-in-law, but hadn’t acted on her instincts.
Mike said, “I’ve got tickets on the red-eye tonight, but—Brady still around? Tell him I’ll be over there this evening.”
“He’s here.” She put the phone into Brady’s upturned hand.
He punched off the speaker. “Mike? I’m on my way. What do you need?” He listened for a minute, snapped the phone closed and handed it to her.
He swung out of the picnic bench. “You’ve got food, water, and a weapon,” he began. “Just stay alert, you’ll be fine here.”
“Oh, no. No. Dammit, I’m willing to admit you’re the security expert. But I’m sick of you rapping out orders and expecting me to obey them. There’s no reason for you to be so pushy when we’re not being held at gunpoint, or whatever.”
“Pushy?”
“Pushy, sexist...”
“Sexist? Me? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, I’m not kidding.”
“Gemma, I can’t stay. I have to be in the field, but I need you safe.”
She pushed out both hands in an abrupt gesture. “I don’t want to hear it. No. The answer to whatever you’re going to say is ‘no.’”
“Gemma, I know how to evade surveillance. I used to do it for a living, remember?”
“There is no way I’m going to stay up here, all safe and cozy, wringing my hands and getting the vapors when my family is in danger. No. So either we pack all this stuff up now, or we come back to get it later. Because I’m going with you. Maybe between us we can solve this before anyone else dies. So help me get this damned tent down.”
“Huh. Remind me to clear out next time you want to tie one on. You’re crabby when you’re hungover.”
“You’re crabby when you don’t get any,” she hissed, winding the guy lines into sailor’s loops for storage.
“I,” he said loftily, hands full of tent pegs, “am suffering because I am too much of a gentleman to take advantage of a woman who’s three sheets to the wind.”
“Not up to the challenge, more like.”
His eyes lit. “Want to see about that?”
“Too late,” she said with a smirk, and pulled the center frame tube out of its holder, sending the tent billowing to the ground at their feet.
* * *
Brady had carved his permanent apartment out of the middle of the two upper floors of his workshop building. He’d built himself a fort within a fortress, guarded by the best electronic security available. No building was entirely secure, but Gemma felt safe here, nonetheless, as if the outside world could never reach them.
Their worries and fears, on the other hand, they had brought in themselves.
“I can’t believe Mary Kate left Mike. I could tell by his voice he isn’t sure she’s coming back,” Gemma said. “God, that hurts so much. And I feel responsible.” She shook her head miserably. “I knew there was something wrong lately. I could feel it. Ever since I started seeing them again.”
“You think you’re the problem?”
“Not all of it. I don’t think these things have just one cause. Do you?”
“I’m no expert, but no, I don’t. They’ve been together for, how long, now? Since eighth grade?”
“Ninth grade for Mike, eighth for me and M-K.”
“This has been hard on everybody, Gemma. They’ll work it out, once it all blows over.”
“I hope so. Want me to make tea?”
“Uh, no. That’s okay. Really.” He held back a shudder at the memory of Gemma’s tea. “I’ll just put the kettle on myself. You relax and, uh, maybe pick out some music. Mike won’t be here for four or five hours yet.”
When he ducked into the kitchen, she laughed softly.
He stuck his head around the corner into the living room. “If you want to call him, you can use my cell. Anybody else, use one of the throwaways on the counter.”
Gemma glanced at the clock in the bookcase. Mary Kate was probably at her parents’ by now, but Gemma wasn’t sure M-K would take her call. Instead, she picked up one of the disposable phones Brady had set on the counter, took a deep breath, and called Doug.
“Gemma?” He sounded astonished. “Are you all right? Where are you? The police, everyone’s looking—”
“I’m fine. I’m safe.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes. Very sure.”
He was silent for a few long seconds. “I assume that means you’re with McGrath.”
“Doug—”
“Do you even know who he is? Or what he is? He probably started the fire to destroy evidence.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Doug. I’ve tol
d you before—”
“Christ, Gemma. You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”
“I called to let you know I’m all right. And I’m sorry now I didn’t just let you worry.”
“Don’t hang up, Gemma. Wait, please. I’m the one who’s sorry. It’s just...it’s a disappointment, you know? I’d hoped—well, you know what I was hoping.”
“I don’t know what to say, Doug. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Or anyone.
“If there’s anything I can do...”
“I’ll let you know. I will,” she added, wondering if it was true.
“Take care, Gemma.”
“You too.”
Well, that was a total disaster. She could hear Brady talking in his office. The words were indistinct, but the rising and falling cadence of his voice reassured her. When the call showed no signs of ending soon, she decided to take advantage of the time to shower and wash her hair.
Brady’s array of bath products came as a surprise after the sketchy amenities in his Redmond “escape hatch.” Gemma picked up the bottle of shampoo and smelled rosemary and mint. Matching conditioner sat cap-down in a metal rack beside the shower head. Even more surprising was the skin toner arranged between the aftershave and an old-fashioned shaving cup and brush on a stainless steel tray. She wouldn’t have taken Brady for a metro-male—was that the word? Whatever it was, she liked a man who took care of himself.
She washed off the camp grunge and wood smoke with the delicious Richard James soap she remembered from the first day she saw Brady. She sighed as she stuck her head under the shower. The rosemary shampoo smelled like heaven. Gemma turned the hot, pounding spray onto her shoulder blades and was working up a second lather when she felt his arms slide around her.
She melted back against him, luxuriating in the textures of his body. The smooth, water-slick skin contrasted with the bristly prickle of his morning beard and of the thatch around the impressive erection rubbing into her back. She pushed her hips against him, moving side to side and loving the feel of his rigid shaft rolling as she moved. He groaned in her ear, and she bent forward, hands against the shower wall, keeping her buttocks tight against him, unwilling to lose the delicious pressure. That freed his hands to roam—one to cup her breast, the other to stroke down her outer thigh and over her knee and up the tender skin on the inner side. Amazing sensations followed his light touch and she cried out as he reached the apex and his fingers slid into her. “Now!” she called out. “Oh, God, Brady, now.”
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