Call it Love

by Kress, Alyssa

  Cookie sat, aware that Chess had yet to remove his scrutinizing gaze.

  "Are you all right?" He frowned with concern and touched her forehead. "You look a little pale."

  Cookie rustled up a smile. "I'm fine. I do suspect I snatched a few too many previews of the meal, though. I know you warned me—and now I'm not as hungry as I should be."

  Chess smiled. "All the more leftovers I'll sentence you to finish tomorrow."

  "You say that like it'll be a bad thing," Cookie joked.

  Still feeling guilty, she glanced to the side. She caught Alex staring at Chess. Her half-brother's gaze was intense, as if searching for something in Chess's face. When he noticed Cookie watching him, he hastily lowered his eyes.

  "You want to try some of the wine, Alex?" Chess asked.

  With his eyes still lowered, Alex shook his head. "No, thanks. I'll stick with the Becks."

  Carefully cutting herself a thin slice of turkey breast, Cookie puzzled over Alex's expression. His refusal of Chess's offer had not been made with the purpose of insulting his half-brother. Rather, it had a flavor of guilt. But what had Alex to feel guilty about?

  Chess let his eyes rest on Alex a moment as though he, too, had heard the subtle undertone. "Well, there's plenty more beer in the refrigerator," he offered.

  Alex nodded, not meeting his eyes.

  Chess glanced at Cookie, who lifted a quizzical shoulder. Teenagers. At the same time, she was grateful Chess's attention had been distracted from her pallor or the way she'd forgotten to fill the water pitcher. But Cookie knew the reprieve was only temporary. She was going to have to break the news to him.

  Tonight, she told herself. After Alex and Kate had gone home, and Chess was pleased and grateful with how smoothly the evening had gone. Tonight would be the perfect time.

  With her decision made, Cookie smiled and tried to enjoy the rest of the evening. Everything was going far better than she'd dreamed. No cold insults were levelled between Chess and his mother. Alex, though subdued, showed no resentment of Chess. The conversation flowed easily, and the food disappeared with pleasure. It was the perfect family gathering. For once, everyone was on good terms. For once, everything was going well.

  Cookie was painfully aware that her conversation with Chess later that night would ruin the whole thing.

  Kate and Alex finally took their leave, after polishing off the meal, relaxing over coffee, and helping to clear the plates from the table. Once they were gone, Cookie washed the remaining dishes while Chess cleaned the dining room.

  "That turned out all right," Chess announced, returning to the kitchen with the broom and dustpan. He sounded only mildly surprised as he put said items in the closet. Then he moved up behind Cookie's back where she stood at the sink. He wrapped his hands around her waist and nuzzled his nose against her neck. "You did a good job, sweetheart."

  "Me? You're the one who made the meal."

  "And you're the one who created the atmosphere. I don't know what you said to Alex, and I'm not going to ask."

  "That's fortunate," Cookie mumbled. "Because I wouldn't tell you."

  Chess laughed. His teeth lightly grazed her jaw. "Leave these. Come upstairs with me."

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

  "Yes." His voice went soft with promise. "So would you."

  Wouldn't she, though? That's what she'd been doing for the past few weeks, going to bed with him instead of dealing with reality.

  "Chess?" She could hear the strain in her voice. "Tonight I think we ought to talk."

  The kisses he'd been raining down her neck abruptly stopped. "Talk?" Deep wariness was audible in his tone. "What about?"

  Cookie pressed her lips together. If she weren't forced into a discussion, she would have postponed one. Chess was clearly not ready for any kind of baring of emotions, either mutual or even one-sided. He was not ready to believe Cookie might be genuinely happy that the relationship was now permanent.

  Deciding to ease into the subject, Cookie stalled. "Alex, for starters. Did he seem anxious to you?"

  Letting out a long breath, Chess rested his chin on top of her head "Something's eating at him. It's been that way ever since the attack."

  Surprised, Cookie took her hands out of the suds and turned to look at him. "You sound like you've been watching pretty closely."

  Chess stepped back with a closed expression. "I don't want whoever did that to him coming back for a second round."

  Fear curled in her belly. "You think this was personal?"

  He shrugged. "I think Alex is hiding something, something he knows about the attack—who did it, why it happened."

  "No." But Chess could be right. She put a soapy hand to her mouth. "What do you think is going on? Have you asked him about it?"

  "I did." Chess crossed his arms over his chest. "He told me to go to hell."

  "You should have told me. Maybe I could have got him to say what it was."

  Chess's expression closed even more. "I didn't want you involved."

  "You didn't want me involved?" Cookie stared at him. "He's my brother. How much more involved do I have to be?"

  Chess's eyes narrowed. "He's my brother, too. And I'm taking care of the matter. It's under control."

  "It's under control!" Cookie shook the soapy water off her hands. "How?"

  "I have someone...looking into it."

  "What does that mean?"

  "She's researching Alex's friends and associates."

  Cookie was aghast. "You're paying someone to spy on Alex."

  Chess lifted one eyebrow. "He won't talk to me."

  Cookie opened her mouth but had no idea what to say. How did you explain to a man who'd obviously never considered the question that it was immoral to spy on his own brother?

  "I'm not doing this out of petty curiosity," Chess went on. "This is Alex's safety we're talking about."

  Cookie didn't want to concede he might actually have a point. "But it's so sneaky," she blurted.

  At the pain that crossed his face, she was immediately sorry she'd made the remark.

  "If a person isn't going to come out and be open with me," Chess stated stiffly, "I don't see what choice I have."

  Cookie thought of her own lack of openness and felt a little sick. Besides, could she honestly blame Chess for trying to find out if Alex were involved in something dangerous? "All right. I'm willing to acknowledge you have good intentions even if I don't approve of your methods."

  He turned his head, his arms still crossed over his chest.

  Cookie could see she hadn't scored a lot of points with this half-hearted concession. "To be perfectly honest," she faltered on, "Alex wasn't my main concern tonight."

  "Oh?" Frost dripped off his voice. "What else?"

  This wasn't going to work. Cookie had to acknowledge that at least one more night was going to go by without telling Chess about the pregnancy. "Never mind," she sighed. "I think the moment has passed."

  Tension palpably drained from Chess. Oh, he was most certainly not ready to discuss their true feelings for each other. That might mean admitting he cared, and nothing could horrify him more.

  "Are you ready to go up to bed, then?" he asked.

  She shook her head, thoroughly discouraged. "I think I'll finish the dishes. I'd rather not have them waiting for me in the morning."

  He hesitated.

  Had she sounded as if she were trying to avoid him?

  "I'll be waiting for you upstairs," Chess finally said. He brushed a light kiss across her lips and pushed out the kitchen door.

  I love you, Cookie added to herself.

  But how could she ever get him to believe or accept such a sentiment now?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  On the evening after Thanksgiving, Chess sat at his dining room table with the tips of his fingers pressed together. He stared into space. Before him on the polished wood table lay the manila folder report from the private investigator he'd hired to research Alex. Now that he'd
read the report, three times, Chess had to agree with Cookie.

  Hiring the private investigator had not been a good idea.

  Slowly, Chess closed his eyes. Inside that report was a bomb waiting to go off. The explosion was likely to rip apart his most precious dreams. Not that those weren't falling apart anyway. Cookie hadn't wanted to make love to him last night.

  Oh, it wasn't as if they made love every single night. But he'd been concerned about the tenor of their conversation regarding Alex. He'd waited alone in the bedroom for Cookie, anxious to put the unpleasant taste of it behind them.

  But when she'd come into bed and he'd leaned over to kiss her, the spark that was usually there had been missing. Smiling, Chess had teased her for being tired of him, but inside he hadn't been smiling at all. Inside, he'd been worried.

  Something had changed.

  Now Cookie's voice floated in from the open doorway. "Sweetheart? Oh, there you are."

  She waltzed into the room while fastening an earring. She wore a royal blue silk shift that said 'money,' which meant she'd probably bought it used. Whatever it cost, it showed her feminine figure to particularly good advantage.

  Smiling, she looked down at the manila folder in front of Chess. "What's that?"

  He stifled the urge to take the thing and hide it under the table. "Just some numbers I need to go over." They were numbers all right. Twenty-five thousand dollars worth of numbers. How had Alex managed to get himself in so deep? Chess's forefinger bit into the edge of the file.

  Cookie's dark eyes flicked from the file to his face. "Anything I need to know about?"

  She'd seen something; she always did.

  Chess managed a smile and shook his head. "The value of Love has been heading steadily upward, thanks mostly to you."

  She put a hand on his shoulder. "It wouldn't move off the shelves at all if it weren't a great fragrance to begin with. That was your doing."

  Maybe Cookie wouldn't blame Chess for Alex's problem. True, she'd warned him that Alex needed a father figure, that he'd been hurting since David's death. And Chess knew he was the older and more mature one between the two half-brothers. If anyone was responsible for their cool relationship, it was him.

  If she didn't blame Chess, she certainly could.

  Cookie's hand tightened warmly around his shoulder.

  With difficulty, Chess restrained the pull of need he felt for her. Swallowing, he looked up. "It's getting late. Do you want me to make us some dinner, or shall I take you out?"

  "Oh." Her fingers fell from his arm. "I forgot to tell you. Luther's going to pick me up. Can you believe he still hasn't seen the play? We were planning on grabbing a quick bite on the way beforehand."

  Chess simply nodded. He didn't know why she was pulling away from him. Didn't know how to stop it. "I guess you won't need me to pick you up tonight, then."

  "No, Luther will bring me home." She hesitated, her chocolate eyes cautiously perusing him.

  Instinctively, he stiffened, wary of the suddenly portentous aura in the air. "I think I'll go back to the office, then. Get some more work done." He stood, sure he wanted to be out of the room, away from whatever she wanted to say to him.

  "Chess?"

  "I've got some contract work to do."

  "Chess, there are some...things I really think we need to talk about."

  Dread stabbed through him. "Not now, Cookie." He reached for the manila folder. She was going to break it off with him, ask for the divorce. They'd be in the clear very soon now in repaying the loan for the launch. He had no more valid claim on her. Besides, she was going to hate him after she found out how badly he'd let down Alex.

  Her hands clutched each other in front of herself. "Well, maybe you're right. Luther's going to be waiting for me. Will you still be awake when I come home from the theater?"

  What could he say? She'd made an honest request, and he knew he had to accept it like a man. He inclined his head, keeping his expression impassive. "Fine. I'll wait up for you."

  The words sounded like a death sentence.

  ~~~

  Alex's hands were shaking so badly he could hardly get his key in the door. Pathetic. He knew what he had to do. Why couldn't he take care of the matter like a man instead of trembling like a baby?

  At last, he got the small side door to the factory open. It wasn't fully dark inside the building as he let the door close behind him. Yellow safety lights glowed dimly, giving him enough light to shut off the alarm.

  Once that was done, Alex held his breath, listening. Silence. He was completely alone. He knew he had an hour before the security company came in to check the place. The voice on the phone had told him so.

  Alex didn't hesitate before slipping up the fire stair to the second-floor mezzanine. The time for agonizing over his actions was long past. He simply had to do it now.

  He came to a halt before the heavy metal vault. The vault was in a wall overlooking the main equipment floor. During the day anyone down below had a clear view of whoever might be at the vault. Tonight the place was deserted.

  He'd been afraid his mind would blank out on the combination, but it was there in his head, singing over and over. He'd copped the combination the day they'd had all that trouble getting a decent batch of perfume.

  The voice on the phone had arranged that, too. The voice had instructed Alex to make sure he was the one to go up with Chess to get a copy of the formula, to check what might be wrong with the mixture. Chess hadn't noticed how carefully Alex had been watching his hands. Hell, he'd probably have trusted Alex with the combination or even the formula, for that matter. All in the family, right?

  Sure.

  Alex's heart pounded as he put his fingers on the steel dial. After this, he'd be able to pay his gambling debts. Once and for all, he could put that mistake behind him. As for selling the formula...? Well, one mistake at a time. He'd take care of the consequences of that, too. Somehow.

  The blood was pounding in his head, in his ears. And yet he still managed to hear the small, satisfying click of the combination. The heavy door swung open.

  Alex drew a small flashlight from a hip pocket and then a folded, blank sheet of paper. Putting the flashlight between his teeth, he got out a pen. He started writing fast.

  Everything was going exactly as the voice had planned it. No alarm, no security guard, no Chess. This last on the list would be at home, eating dinner with Cookie. For a moment Alex's handwriting faltered.

  Chess. Not always the best sibling, but never malicious, never truly evil. Sometimes even...not half-bad.

  But what Alex was doing to him now? God.

  Frowning, Alex gave his head a sharp shake and turned his attention back to the task at hand. First things first. He had to get the formula copied down just the way he wanted it and himself out of the building. Ten minutes more. That was all he needed.

  "Bet you could use some more light there, huh, Alex?"

  The voice froze Alex into stone. Heart, lungs, everything stopped.

  "Here," Chess said. Light suddenly blazed throughout the atrium space. "That's better, isn't it?"

  Alex's flashlight fell to the floor with a loud clang. Stiffly, he turned.

  His half-brother stood about six paces off, feet braced apart, fists on his hips. His face was pure granite.

  "Are you going to kill me?" Alex was surprised at how low and deep his voice came out.

  Chess appeared to seriously consider the question. "I'd like to, but Cookie would never forgive me. I suppose for now I'll have to settle for some answers."

  Alex closed his eyes. It would be better if Chess simply killed him and had done with it.

  An hour later, Alex was sure of this fact. He'd told Chess the whole story, from the first card game in that smoky basement to the disguised voice over the phone, promising a hundred grand for the formula. Then he told it to him again and yet again.

  "You were supposed to put the formula in a Greyhound locker?" Chess's disbelief was the mo
re daunting in that he spoke down at Alex from a position sitting atop his office desk.

  Alex, meanwhile, was perched on a hard metal chair. "That's how we worked the prototype deal. I put in the bottle. They left the money."

  "So you never met."

  "No."

  Chess swore, fervently. And then he made Alex tell him the whole story again, concentrating especially on the voice over the phone, how the person knew Alex needed money, how they'd known about the combination for the vault.

  "So you didn't know the combination yourself before a week ago?" Chess demanded, for the hundredth time.

  "I told you. No. And I didn't do anything to mess up the chemical production process the day I copped the vault combination from you."

  Chess regarded Alex with deep displeasure. "I believe you."

  This appeared to be a bad thing, judging by the expression on Chess's face.

  "Which means you aren't the inside man," Chess continued in disgust. "The spy."

  "Pardon?"

  "It also means Henry is my main suspect, which I really didn't want to be true," Chess went on.

  "But Henry already has the combination to the vault," Alex argued. "Why would he need me to cop it?"

  "To deflect suspicion."

  "Oh." Alex thought for a moment. "Plus, Henry had been in such a crappy mood with his mortgage problem, but more recently he's turned all happy and cheerful."

  "If he offered you a hundred grand, you've got to be sure he's getting more than that from whomever wants to produce the knockoffs." Chess bit his thumb. "On the other hand...why even stay here to work at all if he's getting all that money—and has you to steal the formulas?"

  "To deflect suspicion?"

  Chess shook his head. "Let's go."

  "Um..." Alex didn't want to go anywhere with Chess given the expression on his face. "Wh-where are we going?"

  "Somewhere I can get to the bottom of this."

  "A-and where is that?"

  Chess's smile was pure menace. "Straight to the source. Something I should have done a while ago."