“I wanted a new door anyway,” he replied.
“I don’t suppose you have security footage?” Vance asked. “I noticed the cameras along with your alarm system.”
Matisse nodded. “We should.” He opened the security app on his phone, linking into the security footage. Even now, it was rolling, but this was real time. When he clicked onto the option to see earlier in the day, there was nothing.
Of course, there wasn’t.
“It’s been erased.” He clutched the phone, fingers squeezing, and made himself relax. If this was a chess game, then he was checked. Why hadn’t he anticipated these moves? It was obvious from Dr. Murray’s research that he was systematic and methodical. His entire life’s work was built upon patience and breaking something down—step by step.
Matisse may have thrown a wrench in the works, but Murray had activated his contingency plans.
Matisse refused to play catch-up. The gauntlet had been thrown, and he was happy to accept the challenge.
“The timing of this is suspicious.” Vance interrupted his train of thought. “And it does nothing but make me want to lean a little harder on the doctor. Ran across him at the hospital. Didn’t seem too happy to see me—” Vance’s cell phone rang, and he answered it. “Yeah. I’m leaving now.” He hung up and studied them before speaking again. “Change your locks, and get your cameras back up. You have my card?” he asked Seok.
“Yes.”
“Good. Call me if you need me.” As he walked by, he stopped next to Nora, grasping her elbow lightly. “Don’t be afraid to call.”
“I won’t,” she answered, taking a step back against Seok, who wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Nora?” Apollo’s anxious voice called out from the kitchen. His footsteps pounded through the hall, and then he was tearing her away from Seok. He lifted her into the air and embraced her. “Baby. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Matisse observed his friend, who seemed closer to a breakdown than he’d ever seen him. He’d buried his face into her neck, and as tight as she held him, he held her tighter. “I’m okay, Apollo.” Her hands stroked his back and his head. “I was with Matisse. I was safe.”
As if he remembered Matisse was standing there and he’d yanked her from Seok, he lowered her until her feet touched the ground. “Sorry, man.” His cheeks flushed red, but he met Seok’s glare and didn’t look away.
“All you had to do was ask, Apollo,” Seok said before walking toward the bookcase. He stood for a second, hands on hips.
“Here—” Apollo slid his hands beneath the bookcase, lifting and adjusting it until it was back in place.
Without a word, his friends and Nora began to tidy the room. Nora gathered the loose pages, and stacked them into a neat pile after Apollo righted the coffee table. He did most of the heavy lifting, flipping over the couch and lifting bookshelves, while Seok and Matisse picked up the broken furniture and carried it down to the workshop.
On their first trip, they passed Ryan in the kitchen, who doodled in a notebook while he talked on the phone. “Insurance,” he mouthed.
As Matisse worked, his anger built. Like Nora, he was horrified at the personal nature the destruction broadcast. There was no reason for it, except to show it could be done.
Their computers were missing, and anything of any interest would have been in his room. Matisse stumbled on the step, and Seok bounced off his butt. “What?”
“My room.”
Seok sighed, and Matisse glanced down at him. “I’ll go up with you.” His friend pointed. “Move.”
Ryan was off the phone, helping Nora and Apollo straighten and sweep. He held a garbage bag for Apollo to dump a dustpan of broken glass. It was looking better now the books were back on the shelves. Their couch had one cushion, but the chaotic disorder was gone. Depression hit Matisse hard as he and Seok continued upstairs. The first floor may have been close to done, but the second floor remained wrecked.
And wrecked it was.
Like the living room, shelves had been knocked down, desks upended, and the mattresses torn. He refused to regret the money he’d spent on the hotel room, but he was mentally calculating the funds they needed to get the house back in order.
“Don’t,” Seok muttered. “I see your brain calculating. We have homeowner’s insurance.”
He released a breath and nodded. “This is personal, though. You see it, right?”
“Yeah.” Taking his kerchief from his back pocket, he twisted it in his hands as he examined Matisse’s bedroom. “I see it.”
They started with the mattress, flipping it upside down so the long rents were against the box spring, then they got to work. Sheets and blankets were piled on the mattress. Like they had done earlier, they righted bookshelves and made piles of things that could be saved and garbage.
“Lot of anger in here.” Arms crossed over his chest, muscles flexing, Apollo studied the room from his place next to the door. “Here, man. Let me get that.” Seok and Matisse were struggling to lift Matisse’s antique oak desk back into place. Apollo grunted, dragging it across the carpet. “Had to be more than one person. This shit is heavy.”
“Unlike you and your super-strength?” It felt good to joke.
“Exactly,” Apollo said, lips curving in a half-smile. “The rest of this will keep, don’t you think?”
“We’ve only just finished mine,” Matisse said.
“We’ll sleep in the living room,” Apollo replied. “Spread out some blankets. Nora’s asleep on her feet, and I can’t handle watching Cai sway as he sweeps anymore.”
“Cai’s back?” Seok asked. “I didn’t hear him.”
“Hours now. Got Tyler settled and came home to help. But he’s still recovering.” He left the rest unspoken. Cai didn’t have his usual stamina, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d push through, and it wouldn’t be good for him. If they wanted him better, they needed to stop.
After adjusting Matisse’s chair to fit beneath the desk, Seok yanked the kerchief from his head. “Let’s get the blankets.”
They raided the bathrooms and linen closets. Finding the blankets took longer than it should have, given everything had been swept off of shelves, but eventually they had what they needed and trekked back to the living room.
Apollo was right. Cai and Nora were beat, and even Ryan looked exhausted, moving slowly as he carried a bag of garbage to the curb. It reminded Matisse. “My bike’s gone?”
“Yeah,” Seok answered, shouldering past him to drop the blankets on the floor. “Police took a report. We’ll call insurance in the morning.”
“Was anything else taken?” he asked. “From the garage, I mean.”
“No,” Seok answered. “Only the bike.”
“Huh.” Interesting.
“I’m going to get pjs on,” Nora announced tiredly and went upstairs.
“So we all agree this has everything to do with Murray?” Cai sat cross legged on the floor, resting his back against the sofa.
“Yes,” Seok said, followed quickly by affirmations from the other guys.
“Because you hacked his files, or because of Nora?” he went on.
“Probably both,” Ryan said. “But he must have been freaked by the possibility of you having the details of this current study.”
“Why?” Matisse asked. “He had to have had it approved by the college.”
“The IRB,” Ryan interrupted.
“Whatever.” Matisse had no idea what the IRB was, but he understood Ryan’s point. Someone above Murray had to know about what he was doing. They had to? Right?
“Not necessarily,” Ryan replied. “You said the Department of Defense was involved? Maybe they worked out some deal with Brownington. You throw enough money at something, and people will look the other way.”
“I don’t get it,” Matisse replied. “Granted my understanding of human motivation is not always stellar, but why choose Brownington? Why do something like this at all?”
<
br /> “Read the news, Tisse,” Cai answered sarcastically and completely out of character. “People are paranoid as hell, right now. They don’t care who gets hurt as long as they get what they’re entitled to.”
“Fucking depressing, Cai.” Matisse leaned against the wall and glanced at the ceiling. “She’s taking a while, isn’t she?”
As one, they seemed to realize the length of time Nora had been gone and sprang into action. Apollo was first upstairs, lunging two to three steps at a time as he propelled himself using the railing. Matisse was a footfall behind him, but ground to a halt when Apollo stumbled at Nora’s bedroom.
“Baby?” His voice was small, worried, and it took everything Matisse had not to elbow by him. Not that he’d have been able to move him, but he would have tried.
Apollo stepped inside, and Matisse followed, the others on his heels. Nora’s room looked as bad as his, worse maybe. She sat, back against the wall, with a small cardboard box on her lap. No tears fell from her eyes, but her face was grief-stricken. “Why?” Holding up pieces of paper, she let them flutter to the ground. “How’d they do this so fast?”
Matisse stared in horror at what had fallen from her hands. Photographs. He stepped through the piles of detritus and kneeled next to her. Not only were the photos from the box shredded, someone had poured liquid on them, and they’d formed a pasty mess.
This.
This was personal.
Whomever had done this knew what Nora meant to them and knew what little Nora had. By ruining the few things she had from her childhood, her few good memories, they’d challenged all of them.
Nora’s head thumped against the wall where she hit it. Once. Twice. And then she shoved the ruined pile off her lap and shrugged. “Oh well, right?” She laughed, a humorless, bitter laugh that was nothing like what Matisse’d heard from her before. “It’ll be okay. It’s just stuff, and no one was hurt. We’re all healthy.” One platitude after another left her mouth, none of them genuine-sounding.
“It’s okay to be pissed, Nora.” He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together.
Apollo eased himself next to her and took her other hand. “This sucks. You should be pissed. I’m pissed.”
“I don’t have a right to be upset,” Nora said, studying each of them. “It’s my fault. I’m not being dramatic.” She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to argue. “I brought Murray here.”
“No,” Cai answered. “You really didn’t.”
“How do you figure?” Matisse felt a surge of pride. His girl may be ready to take the weight of the world on her shoulders, but it was because she had a spine of steel.
“Tyler,” Cai replied simply.
“Tyler?” Matisse was confused.
“He had Tyler in his study. Things would have gone to shit. Maybe he wouldn’t have broken in here, but I’d have been dealing with that asshole’s fallout. But because of you, we’ve worked out what he’s doing. Tyler has a chance now.”
She wrinkled her nose adorably, staring hard at Cai. Matisse had the impulse to run his finger down her nose to smooth out the little wrinkle, but he didn’t. Minimizing her feelings would help nothing.
“Oh,” she finally whispered.
Cai towered above them and suddenly grabbed her shoulders and yanked her into his arms. “Tyler’s a wreck, but there’s hope for him. I talked to him today, had a rational conversation for ten minutes before his meds kicked in and he was out cold, but the stuff he told me, Nora.” Matisse wasn’t sure if Cai was overwhelmed or exhausted, or both, but his hands, when he skimmed them down her back, trembled. “The stuff he told me broke my heart. We’re going to talk to the other psychiatrists tomorrow. Explain what he went through, make sure Murray doesn’t have access to him anymore. I’m going to make sure the bastard never does this to anyone again.”
His words held a promise. One Matisse could get on board with.
Nora must have heard it, too, because she drew back and kissed him solemnly. “Thank you.” Shaking herself, she took in the rest of them as they stared at her and blushed. “Sorry, guys. I’m better now.”
“We all need rest,” Seok said, and Matisse yawned. He definitely needed to sleep. The cat nap he took on Nora’s breasts hadn’t been nearly long enough. A sharp pang went through him at the thought of missing the night he’d planned, but it could wait. He and Nora had all the time in the world.
38
Nora
The next morning, Nora awoke to a group of sore, grumpy guys. Matisse made coffee as they sat around the kitchen table. “Thank God this didn’t get wrecked,” Apollo noted.
“I’d have lost my shit,” Seok replied dryly, earning a gasp from her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard him swear. “What?” He smiled at her and leaned over to kiss her temple. “I have enough projects without adding kitchen table to the list. Again.”
Leaning against the counting and staring out the window, Cai nibbled at a piece of toast. The day had dawned clear and cold. One of the first things Matisse had done after waking was crank the heat. “I refuse to freeze,” he’d told Seok, who examined the thermostat then adjusted it to a lower temperature.
“I wonder about you seeing Tyler today.” Cai finished his breakfast and rubbed his hands together.
Nora had just taken a sip of coffee and choked. Apollo rubbed her back then patted her, like a baby. “You okay?” he asked.
Wiping her eyes, she nodded. “Yeah,” she answered when she could speak again. “Don’t you think I’ll make him angry?” she asked Cai. He hadn’t seen Tyler’s face in the coffee shop. He’d been livid.
And the things he’d yelled as the police put him in the cruiser.
“If he’s more alert today, which he should be, it may do him some good to talk to you about what happened with Beau and with Dr. Murray. There’s no one else who can truly understand what Murray’s done, beside you.”
“And the other people in the study,” she added.
Cai’s eyes widened as if the thought had never occurred to him. “He still has people he’s messing with.” His golden skin paled, and he reached for a chair, pulling it out and sitting heavily. “I didn’t even…We have to get them out.”
Matisse refilled her coffee even though she was only a quarter lower than she’d been a minute ago. “I have his stuff on a USB. I’m going to give it to Vance. Let him deal with the asshole.”
“Make a copy of it.” Voice hard, Cai drummed his fingers on the table. “If they take too long, I want to find the people still in the study. Some of them could be my kids. I won’t let him hurt them.”
“I will.” Matisse sat the press on the table. “Cai.” Golden eyes blazed at Matisse, and Nora gasped at the pain she saw there. “Cai. I promise.”
After a pause, Cai nodded. “Okay.” His gaze fell on Nora. “You ready?”
“Now?” she asked. She was dressed, but it was barely eight.
“Now. I don’t want him to be alone if he doesn’t have to be.”
Pushing back the chair, she gulped down her coffee and nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Wait.” Apollo rushed to the refrigerator and pulled out two smoothies. “I made these for you.” Cai’s was a thick green, but hers, thankfully, was pink.
“Apollo,” Cai whined.
“No complaining.” Apollo wagged his finger. “Three days out of the hospital. You get vitamin boosts. And kale. So shut up and drink it.”
It might not have been Apollo’s intention to lighten the mood, but he did. Grumbling, Cai reached for Nora’s hand and dragged her out the door. He shoved his shake in the cup holder as he backed out of the driveway, but smiled when Nora removed it and handed it back to him. “Vitamins.”
“Mmhm,” he answered, and took a sip, grimacing. “He doesn’t try to make it taste good like he does with yours.”
“I didn’t have scarlet fever,” she retorted and licked her top lip.
The hospital was only a few blocks away, but w
ith early morning traffic it took longer. Neither of them spoke much. Nora’s stomach was a jumbled mess of nerves as she replayed her last interaction with Tyler. She understood what Cai was trying to achieve, but she was afraid her presence would only provoke him, or worse, send him into a tailspin. From what Cai had said, Tyler’d had a few good moments with him. She worried that in his haste to make things better and protect Tyler, he was actually rushing what the young man could handle.
Cai parked and led her into the hospital, a circuitous route that gave her an eerie sense of deja vu. It suddenly hit her, after he pushed the arrow next to a set of elevators that they’d be returning to the floor where she’d been brought to recuperate from her bullet wounds.
Her stomach dropped as the elevators opened, but she made herself follow Cai inside. As the doors closed, however, panic built in her chest. Her breath came in quick pants.
“Nora?” Cai’s voice sounded far away. “Nora. Sweetheart. What’s the matter?”
The buttons lit, one-by-one, and the only thing she saw were the numbers. One. Two. Three. Four. A sudden alarm blared, and Cai shook her shoulders, forcing her face toward his. “Nora!”
All at once, everything came back into focus. Cai’s golden skin was white and his eyes wide with fright. As if he could tell she was with him again, he embraced her, hard. His arms, leaner than they were before his long hospital stay, enfolded her. “What happened?”
His worried eyes held hers. “I remembered.” Was that her voice? Hoarse and strained like she’d been screaming? “I remembered I stayed on this floor before. After Reed.”
“Oh.” The word left him on a long exhalation. “Oh, Nora. I’m sorry. I forgot. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Stepping back, she sucked in air and let it out slowly. She held her hands against her stomach like Apollo had taught her. “I’m okay now. It just hit me. I’m sorry.” Reaching past him, she depressed the emergency stop button and the elevator jerked into motion.
“Nora.” Cai’s voice was wary and sad.
“I’m okay.” Hands in place, she concentrated on breathing. “I’m okay.”
Finding Truth (The Searchers Book 3) Page 21