“Good diversion tactic, sending Bob and Rita to their room while we were there,” Jason said. “Stellar work, thanks.”
Riley barely inclined her head in his direction. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to my sister.”
“No, you were talking down to your sister who is a grownup and doesn’t need your permission to live her life.”
That finally forced Riley to give him her full attention. “Are you ever not in cop mode, Buzzkill? And who elected you Lacy’s defender? If she’s really the grownup you say she is, then she can take care of herself.”
“I have a low tolerance for injustice, and your family dynamic is rife with it,” Jason said.
“You don’t know anything,” Riley yelled, stamping her foot.
Jason didn’t reply, but there was a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he leaned back, bracing his hands on the bed. Lacy walked over to try and keep a tether on him. Nothing good was ever gained by provoking Riley. She never forgot a slight, and she always sought revenge. She started to perch on the edge of the bed, but Jason put his arm around her, urging her into his lap—a transparent attempt to provoke Riley. Riley snorted in disgust.
“Was there something you wanted to discuss?” Lacy asked.
“No,” Riley said. “I came to tell you dinner is ready, but apparently you can live on love and chocolate.” With one imperious toss of her hair, she left the room, slamming the door behind her.
“It’s a wonder any doors survived at your house,” Jason mused.
“Now that you mention it, Dad had to change the hinges a lot.”
Jason gathered her close, tucking both arms around her until she was curled into a little ball. “This is so frustrating,” he said.
“You get used to her,” Lacy said.
“I’m not talking about Riley. Believe it or not, she’s not the first spoiled diva I’ve ever encountered. I’m talking about this situation. We don’t have enough time or resources, and the detective is going to come back at any moment to interview you, or worse. I hate being on the civilian side of things.”
He buried his face in her neck, and she ran her fingers absently through his hair. Being on the outside of an investigation was new to him, but it wasn’t new to her. That meant that she had the home-court advantage. It was time for her to take matters into her own hands and end things, but she couldn’t tell Jason what she was going to do because he would flip out. He would try to ban her from doing what she intended; maybe he would even hold her prisoner in this room until the detective came for her. While that might have some interesting implications, it would do nothing to help their case.
“We should go to dinner,” Lacy said. She would have to work hard to keep her tone and expression neutral until she carried off her grand scheme because Jason knew her so well now; he would know she was up to something.
He looked up frowning, and she thought the jig was up. Then he shook his head and scrubbed furiously at his nose. “I think I’m allergic to the monkey hat.”
Lacy wasn’t surprised because it was the way things usually went for her. “That sounds about right,” she said. “Let’s eat.”
Chapter 15
They arrived at supper. Lacy slid one of her chocolates to Gregor. “I’m sorry for taking your game,” she said. “I get a little on edge without sugar.”
“I know the feeling,” he said. He picked up the chocolate, hands trembling. He ripped it open and leaned down to take it with his mouth, emitting loud gobbling sounds.
Lacy looked away, horrified. “That’s not what I look like, is it?” she whispered to Jason.
“Of course not,” he said, giving her shoulder a pat. She was reassured until he continued. “You look worse, much, much worse. You make him look normal.”
She scowled at him until he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. Funny how such a small touch from him could make her forget so many things. Aunt Enid arrived, Emeril Lagasse perched on her shoulder, and the meal came to order.
Lacy, an introvert by nature, had even more motivation to sit back and observe her fellow diners. She let conversation flow around her, listening, taking it all in. Jason appeared to be doing the same thing or else he was intently focused on his meal. Maybe they had learned about the group during their search because Lacy couldn’t help but notice the way Bob and Rita avoided looking at each other. Even when they yelled epithets at each other, they did it without much enthusiasm. Mostly they stared at Enid, lapping up her approval like needy Chihuahuas.
Chuck and Sue, on the other hand, were shooting each other looks that made Lacy shudder. Maybe she was imagining their sly smiles, but after glimpsing their secret drawer, she didn’t think so. The ick factor was so high that she looked away, her gaze landing on Robert and Riley. They looked as cool and stiff as Bob and Rita. Jason’s earlier comment popped into her head, I guess if you don’t have passion in your life, you have to add it to your shampoo. When had that happened? She knew they had once had passionate chemistry because it was what drove them together. Wasn’t it? How else to explain their overriding need to be with each other despite the fact that Robert was engaged to Lacy? Unless Riley was that vindictive and competitive.
Lacy didn’t want to believe that, though. Riley was spoiled and could be shallow, but she wasn’t without a heart. Was she? Whether she was or wasn’t, her relationship with Robert was now in trouble. Lacy tried to manufacture a bit of satisfaction over that, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want Riley to be in a dead or dying relationship. No matter what had passed between them, Riley was still her little sister. The protective big-sister gene was apparently impossible to kill because Lacy wanted what was best for Riley, Robert or not.
Their relationship wasn’t one of heartwarming secret sharing, however. There was no way to give Riley advice without it being perceived in the worst possible way, especially when that advice was about Robert, her ex.
Jason jostled her knee where his hand lay. She pulled herself out of her own world to look at him, but he nodded his head in the direction of Chuck and Sue. Belatedly she realized that there had been a soft buzzing in her ear for some time. Sue had apparently been directing conversation her way for a long while.
“Sorry, I was zoned out there for a bit,” Lacy said. “What did you say?” Sue repeated her murmurings and waited for Lacy to answer.
“Yes,” Lacy tried.
Chuck and Sue drew back with looks of horror on their faces.
“No,” she amended, but they looked no less horrified.
“No wonder the police think you did it,” Chuck said. “You all but confessed to the murder.”
“When?” Lacy said.
“Just now,” Chuck replied.
“I did?”
He nodded.
“I didn’t know what I was saying.”
“Insanity plea,” he said, his sage tone suggesting he had a lot of experience with such matters. “Goes over well up here, not so much in the great state of Texas. Too bad they don’t have rangers up here. Walker would sure kick the sense into people.”
Sue murmured what may or may not have been her agreement.
“I don’t believe in capital punishment,” Rita said. “Such nasty business.”
“Posh,” Bob disagreed. “Nothing that keelhauling a person won’t fix. We ought to go back to that system.”
“No one has used that system since Captain Cook. I swear you have the brain of a fruit fly,” Rita said without pausing between bites of shepherd’s pie.
“I wish you had the lifespan of one,” Bob replied, reaching over her for another serving of pie.
On his other side, Gregor drew his food into the circle of his arm as if afraid his uncle was going to take it. His face hovered an inch from the platter and he shoveled pie at such an alarming rate Lacy mentally brushed up on her knowledge of the Heimlich maneuver in case he might choke.
What was Aunt Enid’s reaction to her family? Lacy chanced a glance at her and resisted the urge to jump
in surprise when she found Enid staring at her. And then her surprise grew when Enid rolled her eyes. It was such a tiny, quick movement that Lacy might have imagined it. If she didn’t know better, she might think Enid was commiserating with her.
The meal drew to a close, and Lacy knew it was time to make her move, especially because there would be no dessert. Before she could begin her plan, Jason leaned close and whispered in her ear.
“I know that look. What are you up to, Red?”
She cast him a sheepish smile. “Promise to forgive me later,” she whispered. He would have said more, but she cleared her throat and tossed her napkin onto the table. “I can’t take it anymore. I have a confession to make.”
“I knew it, I knew I could Walker the truth out of her,” Chuck said.
“Not that sort of confession, Chuck. I didn’t kill Hildy. I didn’t know her, and I had no motive. But each of you had motive, and I know what it is. That’s right; I searched your rooms today, and I searched Hildy’s. I know everything, all your secrets. I think I know which of you killed Hildy, and I’m going to tell the detective when I talk to him tomorrow.”
“Lacy!” Jason exclaimed. His tone was a combination of anger and shock, more anger than shock, really. He turned to the rest of the table. “She wasn’t…”
Lacy pressed her hand over his mouth. “Please, darling, let’s talk about this when we’re alone.” He scowled, whether at the use of the odious darling or because she cut off his flow of words she didn’t know. But she couldn’t risk letting him announce to the table that she hadn’t searched alone. If he did that, her plan was ruined. He opened his mouth and began to sink his teeth into her fingers before she rapidly jerked them away.
“She didn’t…” he started again, but Lacy stood, pushing her chair back.
If she remained, he would blow it, he would tell everyone the truth, and the nightmare would never end. She couldn’t let that happen, had to get away before he ruined her big moment. “I can’t take this anymore. I can’t take sitting at the table with you when I know the truth about all of you. I’m just not that good at pretending.” Then she pretended to burst into tears, covered her face, and ran from the room.
She let herself into her room and sat on the bed, doing a mental countdown until Jason appeared. He came in and closed the door, locking it.
“I am going to kill you,” he said.
“Get in line,” she said, grinning up at him as he stalked nearer.
“That’s not funny, Lacy. What was that little stunt about?”
“It was about ending this, about drawing the killer out.”
“Drawing him or her toward you, you mean,” he clarified.
“Yes.”
“Are you out of your ever-loving mind?” he roared. “Wait, don’t say anything—I already know the answer. What possessed you?”
“Jason, you’re a great cop, but you’re not a cop here. We have to do things outside the system. I had to do things Lacy style.” It was wrong to feel smug, but she couldn’t help it and it probably showed in her smile. Lacy style. She was going to use that again sometime.
He sat on the edge of the bed, dropping his head to his hands with a groan. “How did I let myself forget all the trouble you cause when you stick your nose into things?”
She sat up, accidently bonking her forehead against his shoulder. “Trouble? Sticking my nose into things? Since when is a quest for justice a bad thing?”
He turned to her, grasping her shoulders. “Since you just announced to a murderer that you know his or her identity. Lacy, seriously, what were you thinking?”
“That I want this to be over. It worked before.”
“You mean when someone would have killed you if he hadn’t fallen through the ceiling?” he said.
She nodded. “But that was a planned event. He was supposed to fall through the ceiling.”
“Okay, so what’s your super plan now? What’s going to stop our killer from killing you this time?”
Her mouth puckered in an O of surprise. “I guess I hadn’t thought that far in advance.”
She expected more anger from him, but instead her pulled her into his embrace and clung. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Woman, what am I going to do with you? You’re shaving years off my life, you know that?”
Lacy slipped her arms around his waist, taking immense comfort from his now-familiar scent. “It’s going to be okay, Jason.”
“How is it going to be okay, Lacy?”
“Because you’re here. If someone comes at me in the night, then all I have to do is call. You’ll run in and nab them.”
“Unless they open the door and shoot you in the head.”
“Your optimism is endearing. If they had a gun, then they would have used it on Hildy the first time. They’ll use another weapon, something handy. An andiron, maybe.”
“Geez, I feel loads better. I won’t have to see you get shot. Bludgeoning is much less traumatizing for the survivors,” Jason said. Lacy giggled. “You’re not supposed to laugh at that,” he said, but she could tell he was smiling. “I’ll just hide in the closet and watch you all night.”
“Admit it, you’ve been looking for an excuse to do that anyway,” she said.
“Who says I haven’t done it already?” he asked. He let her go so he could see her face.
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that will work, Jason. What if they check your room first to make sure I’m alone? I think it should be as authentic as possible for the trap to work, if anyone even takes the bait. A smart killer wouldn’t fall for it.”
“A smart killer wouldn’t be here this weekend. It’s like Edgar Allen Poe’s dream cast of characters around here. Next time we go away for the weekend, I’m picking the venue,” he said.
“O-okay,” Lacy stammered, her lashes fluttering in surprise. She had a hard time believing there would be a next time after this nightmare of a weekend.
“Hmm, that wasn’t the no I was expecting,” he said. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.
“Why would I say no?”
“I’ve been asking myself that question for months now,” he said.
She rolled her eyes and gave him a light shove. “I should get ready for bed.”
“It’s nine,” he said.
“I know, but we want to lull the killer into a false sense of security, set the scene, make sure everyone knows I’m in my room for the night. You should go out and tell them I went to bed with a headache, then stay and socialize for a bit so they know we’re not together.”
“Socialize?” His lip was curled as if he had just swallowed a live eel and it was still wriggling in his stomach. “Please tell me you’re kidding, Red. Who am I supposed to talk to? Your bratty sister? You’re three-timing ex? His warring parents, the Skipper and Mary Ann? And I’m not even going to suggest Chuck and Sue after what we saw in their drawer.”
“How about Gregor?” Lacy suggested. “I think he’s lonely.”
“I think he’s pathetic,” Jason said. “His ‘job’ is a felony and he still lives with his parents.”
“Exactly. He needs a strong male role model in his life. Maybe if you talk up living on your own and having a job that won’t end in prison, he might find something to aspire to.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “Your heart is four sizes too large and a squishy marshmallow. Seriously, Lacy, is there anyone you don’t like?”
“Pearl,” she blurted. Tosh’s secretary got under her skin in a big way.
“It’s good to know you’re human.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m going to be closer than you think at all times. So much as breathe too loudly, and I’m here, understand?”
She nodded. He was inadvertently squishing her cheeks together, making speech impossible. He let her go and left the room. Lacy remained still, staring at the door a few minutes. Her bravado had left the room with him. What had she been thinking? She had made herself a sitting duck. Her phone was on the ni
ght stand. She was tempted to use it and call Tosh, but she hadn’t charged it; it was probably dead. At least that was why she told herself she didn’t call Tosh. The real reason was more complex; she didn’t want him to hear anything in her voice and guess how well the weekend was going. Being Tosh, he would want her to move on and have fun this weekend. Being Tosh, he would be hurt if she moved on and had fun this weekend—without him, that is.
She changed into her pajamas, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. Now what? She rifled through her bag and pulled out her book. An avid reader, she always carried a paperback for just such an emergency, but once the book was in hand she had no heart to read it. James Patterson was fun to read from the safety of her grandmother’s house, not so much when she was possibly about to be embroiled in her own murder. Why hadn’t she brought something less suspenseful? Dr. Seuss, for instance. Yertle the Turtle could go a long way toward calming her nerves right now.
There was a Bible on the night stand. Lacy picked it up and set Patterson aside, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to read the Bible, either. It felt a little too death row. Still, maybe it would help her fall asleep, so she clutched it to her chest and climbed into bed.
She pressed the sides of the book together and let it fall open, a not-very-scientific method of deciding which part to read. The pages landed near the middle in Psalms. The Psalms were good and comforting, weren’t they? Not the ones about David being pursued by attackers. The story of his flight and pursuit was compelling, though, and Lacy soon found herself skipping back and forth between the book of I Kings to fill in the blanks.
Jason didn’t return to check on her, but that was part of the plan. If she was supposed to be sleeping, it wasn’t really believable for him to pop in for a visit, but she missed him. They had been together nearly constantly for the last few days. Lacy was a person who usually valued her alone time away from strangers, but she never felt a pressing need to get away from the people closest to her. Jason had somehow crossed over into that intimate circle because, even after copious amounts of time together, he wasn’t getting on her nerves.
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