She wasn’t sure why he even wanted her there, since he was making all the decisions, but she did miss him. Maybe a weekend with him would cheer her up.
On Friday evening, she met him in the lobby of the hotel and was surprised to see his brothers with him.
“I thought since they missed the outing we promised them, I’d bring them along. They miss you too.”
That was all well and good, and she was glad to see the boys, but it presented a privacy problem. They were too young to stay in a room by themselves. Dylan had reserved adjoining rooms so she’d have her own bed. He and the boys were in a room with two beds. Alex swallowed her disappointment and tried to join in his enthusiasm, but her heart wasn’t in it.
By the time they’d had dinner, watched a movie with the boys and put them to bed, Dylan had picked up on her mood.
“Alex, I thought you’d be happier,” he said. They were sitting on the bed in her room, propped up against the headboard side by side. Neither had put on their nightclothes yet. The connecting door was ajar so Dylan could hear if the boys got into anything.
“I’m sorry, Dylan. I guess I’m depressed about that girl, Sarah. Someone mutilated her and left her to die. I can’t stop thinking about how frightened she must have been.”
Dylan put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. “I know, babe. It’s awful. I’m worried about you, though. You haven’t seemed yourself since you found out about your mom. Are we ever going to talk about that?” His expression was so mournful that Alex’s heart went out to him.
“I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t burden you with my feelings, when you haven’t even had a chance to mourn your mom yet. How are you and the boys dealing with it?”
“We’re okay. Their memories of her are blurred, since they went into foster care quite a while before she passed. And I expected it. Don’t worry about us. Alex, I need to know that we’re okay, you and me.” Dylan took her hand in his free one and toyed with her fingers. “I need to put a ring on this hand,” he said.
“It’s too soon, Dylan. I understand, I really do. It’s just that I need this weight off me before I can think of engagement or marriage. Can you be okay with knowing I love you and I expect to spend my life with you?”
Dylan frowned. “I guess I have no choice, do I? I’d better get some sleep. We’ve got a long day tomorrow. The real estate agent has a bunch of houses lined up, since I couldn’t tell her exactly what we wanted. I think we’re going to see every open rental in Mesa tomorrow, and then in Tempe on Sunday.”
Alex nodded. He wouldn’t be sharing her bed tonight, then. It was just as well, since she didn’t feel much like lovemaking anyway. “See you in the morning.”
Dylan gave her a longing look. Had he wanted her to ask him to stay? Before she could say anything else, he heaved himself off the bed and went to his own room, closing the connecting door behind him. Alex turned on her side, still fully clothed, and wept herself to sleep.
~~~
Dylan tossed and turned before going to sleep. Alex didn’t seem to be into this house-hunting trip and he didn’t have any idea how to get her engaged in it. Her unenthusiastic response to his remark about a ring on her hand felt just like when she’d asked him if he was crazy for proposing to her all those months before.
I thought we were over this.
Eventually, sleep found him anyway, or he thought it had when he woke up disoriented. He opened his eyes and spotted the boys on the other bed, doing their best to remain quiet and still entertain themselves. They were wrestling, which had two possible outcomes. Either they’d start giggling and he’d have to wake up anyway, or one of them would hurt the other, resulting in howls and a less pleasant wake-up call.
With a sigh, Dylan resigned himself to getting up and starting the day. The clock said six-thirty. Oh, joy. He had two and a half hours to kill before they were to meet the real estate agent.
He got up and padded to the connecting door, half expecting to see the door on the other side closed and inaccessible when he opened his side. To his surprise, it stood open, so he peeked in to see if Alex was awake. She lay on the bed in much the same position where he’d left her last night, and it looked as if she’d fallen asleep in her clothes. Dylan backed out of her room and shut his door carefully.
“Boys,” he said. “Alex is still asleep, so don’t start making noise. If you want, we can go down and see what kind of breakfast they have. Or you can watch TV, but with the volume very low.”
“Breakfast! Breakfast!” Davi shouted, bouncing on the bed to punctuate his demand.
“Shh.” Juan had it covered. He pounced on Davi and put a pillow over his head. When he let his struggling younger brother up, Juan said in a fierce stage whisper. “Be quiet! Don’t wake Alex up, faggot.”
“Juan!” said Dylan, shocked. “That isn’t a nice word. You will not call your brother names, especially when you don’t know what they mean.”
“It means idiot, Dylan,” said Davi, coming to Juan’s defense.
“Um, no, it doesn’t. Just don’t say that anymore. Come on, you two get dressed and let’s go find something to eat.”
An hour later, the three returned to the room. Dylan turned on the TV, this time not bothering to worry about the volume. Alex would need to get up soon anyway, if she was going to get breakfast before their appointment. He’d brought up two cups of coffee, one for Alex, and he took it with him when he opened the door to check on her again. As soon as the door opened, the noise from the TV must have entered her consciousness, because she stirred, then jerked awake.
“Morning, sunshine,” Dylan said. He walked over to the bed and handed Alex the cup of coffee without remarking on her being dressed in the clothes she fell asleep in.
“Morning,” she replied. She reached for the cup he had extended. “Thanks.” After taking a sip and then a larger gulp when she realized it wasn’t very hot, she looked down at herself. “Why am I still in my clothes?”
“Well, I didn’t think it would be polite to take them off of you, since you were asleep. So I just made love to you with them on.” Dylan grinned as Alex gave him a look of confusion.
“We… oh, you’re joking. You jerk.”
Dylan grinned even more broadly. “I’ll have you know I was a perfect gentleman. And I don’t know why you’re still wearing your clothes. I excused myself to go to bed, and I don’t know what you did after that. You could have gone dancing for all I know.”
“Why didn’t we… oh, that’s right, you brought the boys,” she said, beginning to remember as she woke up more fully. “Where are they?”
“Next door, watching TV. Hey, sleepyhead. You better get ready, before it’s time to meet the Realtor.”
“Breakfast?” she said, a note of hope in her voice.
“Downstairs. The boys and I have been. Better hurry.” With that, Dylan dropped a kiss on the top of her head and walked away. Alex watched him go and wondered when the magic had gone out of their relationship. Was this to be their future? A breezy ‘hurry’ and a kiss on top of her head? In a moment of clarity, she knew it was her fault. She was so focused on these mysteries that she’d pushed Dylan away. Was it too late for them?
Later, after seeing enough houses to lose count, Alex complained to Dylan while out of earshot of the agent. “These are all so much alike. I don’t like any of them, do you?”
“I don’t know what to say, Alex. They all have what we need. There are only so many ways you can put a three bedroom, two bath house together. You’ve rejected ramblers, multi-levels and split-entries. There’s not much left.” Dylan sounded weary.
Alex knew the boys were just about at the end of their patience. “Maybe we’d better call it a day and talk about it, now we’ve seen what’s in your budget,” she suggested.
“Good idea,” he said.
Dylan went over to the agent and spoke to her in low tones, and then returned to Alex and the boys. “Let’s go get some pizza and figure out w
hat to do tonight,” he suggested. A glance at Alex showed him she didn’t want to, but she nodded anyway.
If he could only figure out why she was so down, maybe he’d be able to suggest something that would cheer her up. Making love to her might do it, but that wasn’t a practical option with the boys along and too young to leave in a room by themselves. He was beginning to regret bringing them, and in turn, he resented Alex for causing him to feel that way. To avoid saying something he’d regret, he opted to say nothing at all.
After an awkward evening during which even the boys were unnaturally quiet, they went back to the hotel early and Alex went to her own room. The only encouraging thing Dylan could find was that she’d left her side of the connecting doors ajar. He got Davi started on a bath, told Juan to let him know when Davi was ready to get out, and went to see if Alex wanted to talk.
As Dylan pushed the door open gently, Alex looked up from her laptop, where she was tapping away at the keyboard. “Hey, whatcha doin’?” he asked.
“Writing a blog post,” she answered. Her tone wasn’t easy to read. She didn’t sound happy, and she didn’t sound sad, or mad, or whatever it had been all day.
“I thought we could talk about what we’re going to want in a house,” he said, sitting down on the bed beside her. As he settled, he heard her sigh heavily.
“I don’t care, Dylan. Rent what you want. What difference does it make?”
She closed the laptop before he caught more than a glance at the words on the screen. When had she become so secretive? What was she writing that she didn’t want him to see?
“What was that, Alex?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
The sullen look on her face reminded him of Davi when he was lying, and suddenly Dylan knew Alex was hiding something from him. “Don’t lie to me Alex. If you’re doing something you think I may not like, at least have the courage to own up to it. You’re not a child. I can’t stop you.”
“It’s none of your business.” Alex said.
Next, she’d be sticking her tongue out at him. Dylan had taken all he was going to take. He got up and strode to the door. Before he stormed through it, he turned and looked at her.
“I’ve never wavered, Alex. I’ve never changed my mind, through everything we’ve been through together. The first time I asked you to marry me I meant it. I still want you, and what concerns you is my business. It’s time for you to grow up. Make up your mind, and let me know when you’re ready to make a decision and stick to it.”
NINETEEN
This time it felt final. Dylan might as well have slapped her. He didn’t understand what she was going through, and she couldn’t explain it, not in a way he would accept. He’d said it the night before. She hadn’t been right since she found out about her mom, and she wouldn’t be right until she got to the bottom of it. Her dad had betrayed her trust, and now Dylan had abandoned her, too. As far as searching for her mom was concerned, she had nowhere to even begin looking.
The only thing she could do anything about at all was finding out why the Patriots were harassing the Native tribes. That’s what she’d been doing when Dylan came in, searching for a way to get inside the Patriot organization, and she thought she’d found it.
She’d been using a website to ‘try on’, virtually, different hair lengths, colors and styles to see if there was a way to disguise herself. After all, they’d seen her picture. Would a different hairstyle, and maybe a pair of glasses, be enough to keep her from being recognized? Could she learn to disguise the shape of her face with makeup? Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
There were a number of makeup artists in the area advertising their expertise, and plenty of places to get a wig. She’d need to cut her long hair, probably, but finding Sarah’s killer or killers, or the person responsible for maiming Dawn would be worth it, wouldn’t it?
Alex got up and secured her side of the door. She planned to be long gone when Dylan got up the next morning. She didn’t know if she could keep the secret, and he’d be sure to try to stop her. What she was about to do was a dangerous game—even she could admit that. But it was important.
The next morning, Alex opened the outer door and peered up and down the hall. No one was stirring. She hadn’t heard anything through the double connecting doors, either, so she hoped she was in time. Quietly, she slipped out the door and walked down the hall with her bag rolling behind her. At the front desk, she tried to pay for her room, but the clerk told her it had been prepaid.
Alex left the hotel without breakfast, afraid Dylan might catch her if she lingered, and pulled out of the parking lot slowly to avoid any squealing of tires. Only when she was blocks away did she breathe a sigh of relief. If Dylan called, she wouldn’t answer. If he texted, she’d text back that she needed some space. Maybe he’d leave her alone long enough to do what she needed to do. After that, she’d have to see how it worked out.
Sitting in a chain restaurant miles away, Alex ate a lonely breakfast and thought about Dylan. Now that she’d done what she did, she missed him. She really did love him, and it wasn’t fair to treat him this way. On the other hand, he’d never understood her compulsion to get to the truth, and he’d never agreed to her putting that compulsion before her own safety. If he couldn’t accept her choices, she didn’t know if she could be with him.
Because it was Sunday, most of the places she needed to help her create her disguise were closed. But a couple advertised seven days a week, so her choice was made for her. At the wig shop, the sales clerk told her she didn’t have to cut her hair. Braiding it and wrapping it evenly around her head would be sufficient. She left the shop as a blonde with a silky A-line cut that hit her just below the chin in front and curled under, disguising the shape of her face.
A visit to the nearest dollar store netted a pair of glasses with clear lenses that didn’t distort her vision too much. For the final transformation, she found a salon with a makeup artist on duty and explained what she needed.
An hour with the artist learning what to do to create contours where she had none and deeply shaded eyes, and she wouldn’t have known herself in the mirror if she hadn’t reached her hand out to see it was really her. She didn’t even need the glasses, which the artist told her wouldn’t have worked anyway. “Obviously plastic, hon.”
For good measure, Alex went to a discount store and bought a supply of shorts and halter-tops. She’d always worn sundresses, believing them to be cooler, and in fact they were, but they didn’t fit with the image she needed to fit in with the Patriots. Her redhead’s skin didn’t go with the blonde hair, and she didn’t tan, she freckled, so she opted to spend an hour in a tanning salon to get a spray-on tan.
By the time she was done, she was down several hundred dollars and worried about what she’d live on, but she was very confident no one in the Patriots organization would recognize her as the pesky blogger, especially not now that her photo was no longer posted.
~~~
When Dylan found Alex gone, her things cleared out of the room, he was angry at first. He hid his reaction from the boys and took them down for breakfast. He spoke to the desk clerk, asking if he’d seen a redhead. The shift had changed since Alex’s departure, though, so the clerk couldn’t tell him anything. He looked in on the boys, told them to behave themselves or else, and went to the parking lot.
Alex’s car was gone. He should have expected it. After what he’d said to her, he couldn’t blame her. When would he learn to respect what she felt she needed to do? Discouraged, but determined to wait her out, he went back into the hotel and joined the boys.
Since Alex had said it didn’t matter, Dylan settled on the first house the agent had to show him that morning. Located midway between the campus and his new office, the three-and-two ranch with a xeriscaped yard requiring little maintenance was perfect.
The agent assured him the schools were good, and offered information about a Catholic school as well. The Catholic school could be a good option if they h
ad scholarships, he agreed. There would be time to inquire after they moved in, on the first of August. He had a week to finish packing and make all the arrangements to move their stuff. The agent kindly offered to have the utilities turned on and to meet them with a key on the following Saturday. They were all set, except he hadn’t heard from Alex.
Feeling as if he was missing something, Dylan took the boys back to Dodge. It was past dinnertime when they got there, so he dropped by Jen’s to see if she’d do some burgers and fries for them, to go. While he waited for his order, Dylan spotted Paul and went over to talk with him.
“Have you heard from Alex today?” he asked.
Paul shot him a mournful look. “I haven’t heard from her since she tore out of my house mad,” he said. “I don’t dare call her. If she ever forgives me, she’ll make the first move.”
Dylan thought Paul was making the same mistake he’d made with his wife, but he kept his opinion to himself. “Well, my transfer came through and I spent today renting a house. I’ll be moving to Tempe next Saturday.” He gave Paul the address. “You’re welcome any time you’d like to visit. I assume Alex is still planning to live there with me when school starts, but we had a tiff and she took off.” At Paul’s look of alarm, Dylan said, “I’m sure it will be okay.”
It was only later he remembered that was how it had started with her mother. He began to worry then, wondering if her mother’s mental illness was hereditary. Dylan tried to call, but Alex didn’t pick up, so he left a message, apologizing for his part in their row and giving her the address of the house. He’d keep trying.
TWENTY
Late on Sunday afternoon, not having heard from Dylan, she drove back to Casa Grande and went into the house she shared. Lisa looked at her oddly and she remembered she didn’t look like herself. “Hi, Lise,” she said. Lisa’s mouth dropped open when she heard Alex’s voice, and Alex knew her plan would work.
Fatal Intent (Desert Heat Book 3) Page 12