Текст книги "Alone in the Dark"

Автор книги: Karen Rose

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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 49 страниц)

It was true. Ken had sold Chip his first workers when the guy’s business had hit the shitter.

The girl spoke confidently, but Ken noticed that she kept her gaze on his face, sometimes glancing at Chip, making sure she didn’t look down at her mother’s body between them. She was getting too self-assured, so Ken tossed a verbal grenade into the mix. ‘You know, you are either the best actress in the world or the coldest bitch I’ve ever met. You talk about your mother’s affair when she’s lying dead next to you?’

Stephanie’s eyes closed, a spasm of pain momentarily contorting her pretty face. ‘She would want me to get out of here alive. And if giving you what you want is the way to do that, she’d want me to.’

‘You’re not going free,’ he said. ‘You do know that, don’t you?’

She nodded, her eyes still closed. Her skin paled. ‘Yeah. I got that.’

‘Just so that we’re clear,’ he said amiably.

‘But you said you could make it easier for me.’

‘I did say that, yes. Let’s see how this goes, shall we? The more straightforward you are, the more charitable I’ll be. So, why did Tabby give the baby to “someone”?’ He quirked his fingers in the air.

‘I don’t know. Maybe she heard Tala was dead and figured there would be no one to feed the brat. Mother and I certainly weren’t going to buy it formula, and Tabby wasn’t allowed to have any money, so it would have starved because Tala was still nursing it. Or maybe she thought that Mother would get rid of the kid. I don’t know.’

The Anders household had been a goddamn nest of vipers. Ken was glad he didn’t have to live with them. He almost felt sorry for Aunt Tabby. But not sorry enough to rescind his order to Sean and the others. The old lady had to go. She’d probably find it a mercy.

‘Did Tabby let the other two women go too?’

‘Probably. I didn’t and Mother wouldn’t. They were Mother’s servants.’

Ken frowned. Stephanie was cooperating, but there was still something off. Something not quite right. She’d given up the aunt so easily, not caring that the woman might be their only hope of rescue.

Drake. Of course, the boyfriend who’d killed Tala. Ken wanted to kick himself. He’d allowed himself to get sidetracked by the baby and the aunt, forgetting about the damn boyfriend, whose last name was . . . He searched his memory. Ah. Connor. Drake Connor.

‘Stephanie,’ he said softly, ‘where is Drake?’

The girl blanched.

Bingo, was Ken’s first thought, closely followed by, Shit. ‘Did you call him when my men arrived? Did you tell him you were being taken away?’

‘No,’ Stephanie said, but her voice cracked.

Ken was on his feet, his palm connecting with her face before she could blink. Her head snapped back, a shrill cry escaping her throat. ‘Do not lie to me, girl.’

Shaken, Stephanie stared up at him, and he retook his seat. ‘Let’s try that again. Did you tell him that you were being taken?’

She looked down, saw her mother’s body and dry-heaved. Thankfully, she’d already emptied her stomach the last time she’d puked. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

‘Where was he when you told him this?’

‘On his way to get me.’

‘So you think he followed you here?’

An audible swallow. A tiny nod.

Beside her, Chip rolled his eyes. Ken found himself laughing in surprised agreement.

‘I think your father is right for once, Stephanie. Drake’s not coming to save you. He’s halfway to the border by now.’ He texted the boy’s name to Sean, Decker, and Burton, instructing them to find Drake Connor ASAP. ‘Considering he committed murder this morning, it’s doubtful he’ll be running to the police for assistance. And on the supremely wild chance that he tries to stage a rescue on his own, we’ll catch him on his way in. But don’t count on that, honey. You’re more likely to be struck by lightning or win the Powerball.’

Ken finally saw a flicker of defeat in her eyes. She’d held out for hours, waiting for Drake to save her. It was almost sweet. In a gagging kind of way.

He stood up, dusted his palms on his trouser legs. ‘Well, I think I’ve got what I need from you and dear old Dad here,’ he said, perusing the instruments on his cart.

Stephanie made a terrified noise when his intent finally sank in. ‘Wait. You said you’d help me if I talked to you.’

‘Well that was before you wasted more than half of my day. I do have an actual job, you know, and you’ve kept me from doing it. I’ll probably have to work through dinner to catch up. But don’t worry, I won’t kill you. I will kill him, though,’ he said, gesturing at her father. ‘He has no value. You set this in motion by taking Tala out without permission. But since he got you into it by buying Tala and her family in the first place, I’ll let you pick how he goes. Gun or knife?’

Stephanie’s cheeks darkened, fury bending her mouth. ‘Which hurts more?’

Ken threw back his head and laughed. ‘Oh, I wish I could keep you. But you’d try to get away and I’d eventually have to kill you too.’

Her chin lifted, but he could see the fear in her eyes. ‘I’ll try to get away from whoever you sell me to,’ she said with a bravado that was as fake as a three-dollar bill.

His grin softened to a smile. ‘That’ll be his problem. But remember, Tala tried to get away. Didn’t work out too well for her, did it?’ He clapped his hands once. ‘So, Stephanie, darling. What’s it to be? The knife will hurt more, but it’s messy.’

She started to glance down at her mother, but twisted her face away at the last minute. ‘Messy works. Just make him scream. And I have a special request.’

Again he was impressed with her guts, and the depth of her anger. ‘Depends.’

‘I want to tell him something and I want to see his face when I do. But I don’t want to see my mother again, not like that. Can you move him?’

He considered it, then nodded. ‘That’s not unreasonable,’ he said. He dragged Chip, chair and all, to where Stephanie could see him without looking at her mother’s body.

The stare she directed at Chip was positively glacial. One side of her mouth lifted. ‘You might want to ungag him for this. You might enjoy his reaction too.’

One hand firmly gripping his knife – just in case – Ken pulled the wadded cloth from Chip’s mouth, anticipating that the man would try to spit at him and easily stepping out of the way when he did. ‘Go ahead, Stephanie,’ Ken said. ‘I’m a busy man.’

‘That little bastard baby wasn’t yours,’ Stephanie told Chip, her tight smile maliciously gleeful. ‘It was Drake’s.’

Already pale, Chip went white as a sheet. ‘You’re lying.’

She smiled at him, pure ice and hate. ‘No I’m not. When your little bitch whelped, I had a DNA test run, just so I’d know. It was Drake’s. Zero chance of error.’

Chip was looking like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out what. Stephanie turned to Ken. ‘You can kill him now. I’m done with him.’

‘Wait,’ Chip said hoarsely. ‘Your mother . . . She would have said something.’

‘She didn’t know. I didn’t tell her.’

Ken stood back, deciding another moment or two wouldn’t make a difference, especially when it was getting interesting again. ‘Why didn’t you tell your mother?’ he asked. ‘You said that seeing the baby hurt her.’

Stephanie swallowed hard. ‘She was mad when I got arrested at school, said if it happened again she’d cut me off and take my car. So I kept the secret as leverage.’

‘You would have traded the secret to keep your car?’

‘And my credit cards,’ she mumbled. ‘Doesn’t seem important now.’

Ken felt a sting of pity. He sighed heavily. ‘Dammit, girl. Now I’m going to have to find you an extra-specially kind buyer. You yanked my heartstrings with that, but now I’m out of time. If you don’t want to watch old Chip here bite it, close your eyes.’

But she impressed him once again, coldly watching Ken slit her father’s throat. He did it slowly, leaving Chip gurgling at the end.

He cleaned his knife and stripped off his gloves. ‘How did you know the baby wasn’t Chip’s?’ he asked her, genuinely curious. ‘What made you do a DNA test?’

‘I didn’t know, exactly,’ she said dully, watching the man who’d raised her gasping for his final breaths. ‘It had a birthmark on its ass, just like Drake has. I’d found out that Chip wasn’t my real father a few years ago, when I got my blood type in school. I thought at first I was adopted and confronted my mother with it. She admitted I wasn’t Chip’s, that she’d had an affair. Asked me not to make it an issue.’ She shook her head. ‘I was planning to, of course, but had been saving that for a rainy day. Nothing stops parents from yelling at you like making them yell at each other. I’d been saving the news about Drake being the kid’s daddy for a really rainy day, mainly because I knew that Chip wanted more kids.’

‘You knew it would hurt him.’ Once again Ken was impressed. Not many girls Stephanie’s age could hold on to a secret like that for such malicious reasons. Alice could, but hell, she’s my daughter. And Ken had made sure of that. He’d run paternity tests on both Alice and Sean.

She nodded. ‘He was so thrilled to have that little brat. He thought that damn baby was his. That she was nursing it was the only thing keeping Tala alive. Mother would have killed her without batting an eye. She hated how much Chip wanted that kid.’ She lifted a shoulder. ‘So I guess it worked out that Drake killed her first. Tala’s brat wasn’t going to nurse forever. Maybe that’s why Tala risked double-crossing us.’ She looked up at him, meeting his eyes squarely. ‘Don’t you have an office in Singapore or Bangkok or somewhere outside the country where you need qualified help? Bora Bora, maybe? Or Cameroon? My French is flawless.’

He chuckled. ‘Damn, now I wish I did. But I don’t, and I have a mess of my own to clean up here. Too many people got involved in this, and Chip there hurt some of my people, so I’m short-handed. And FYI, the cops rescued Aunt Tabby and have sent her to the hospital. I’ve given the order to have her finished off there.’

Stephanie absorbed this. ‘So no one was ever coming to help us, were they?’

‘Nope. Sorry.’ Bitch of it was, he did feel sorry. And oddly reluctant to leave her tied to the chair, even though he had work to do. He felt oddly reluctant to leave her at all. ‘Why did Drake take Chip’s gun to the alley?’ he asked. ‘The truth.’

She lifted a shoulder. ‘Tala had been meeting some guy in the park. I was supposed to walk the dog, but I hated to. Stupid dog. I made Tala do it, to get her out of the house when I wanted Drake to myself. I’d send her out at two, three in the morning. A few days ago I caught her humming a tune and got suspicious. Drake and I checked the logs and saw that some nights she stayed in one place for five minutes or more.’ Stephanie’s smile was reptilian. ‘I beat her within an inch of her life. It was a wonder the bitch could walk.’

‘How did you know she was meeting a man?’ Ken nodded, immediately seeing his own mistake. ‘Oh, right. The audio files.’

‘Yes. Drake was livid that she was sniffing around the guy in the park. He set her up by telling her we were going into the city that night to buy drugs. He left his jacket in the room with her, with his cell phone in the pocket. He wanted her to use it, and she did. She met the guy in the alley, and . . . you know the rest.’

‘Thank you,’ he said, and meant it. He carefully locked up his cart with all of his weapons, then left her sitting there. He was halfway up the stairs when she spoke again.

‘Excuse me,’ she called. ‘I don’t know your name.’

‘You don’t need to.’

A frustrated huff. ‘How much are you going to ask for me?’

‘I don’t know. It’ll be an auction. But I’ll make sure the winner won’t beat you.’

‘That’s not a major comfort,’ she said sarcastically. ‘How much is the “buy now” option?’

‘Like on eBay?’ He laughed. ‘We’re a little more sophisticated than that.’ But because she’d intrigued him, he gave her a number that was over-the-moon inflated. ‘Two million.’

She considered it. ‘I’d like to buy myself, then.’
Startled, he came back down the stairs to stand five feet away, carefully avoiding the pools of Chip’s blood. ‘What do you propose using for money?’

‘I have Chip’s bank account passwords.’

‘You’re lying,’ he said, although he appreciated the effort. ‘If you had them, you wouldn’t have been worried about losing your credit cards.’ He went back up the stairs, chuckling at the vile curses she flung at him. ‘I’d take you myself, but I’d never sleep a wink,’ he said. ‘You’d go all Sharon Stone on me the second I closed my eyes, and they’d find me with an ice pick through my heart.’

‘What does that even mean?’ she demanded, and he laughed again.

‘That you are far too young for me, Stephanie. I’ll send someone down with some food in a little while.’

He locked the door and texted Alice to come out to the house. He’d send her down to tend to Stephanie, along with Burton. Then he’d have Burton dispose of the bodies.

For a moment – just a moment – he’d been tempted to allow Stephanie to buy herself outright. But that was a crazy thought and Ken Sweeney was not a crazy man. Just once, he’d like to let go with a woman and not worry so much . . . But not with that one. She was trouble with a capital T.

He forced himself to march away from the basement door and into his office, where he planted his ass behind his desk. But rather than working, he opened his phone and checked his tracking program once again. Reuben and his right hand, Jason Jackson, were both still AWOL. Demetrius was still sitting near the Ledger’s front door. Burton was on his way back to Ken’s house, to do a forensic examination of Reuben’s car. Joel was in his home office, no doubt working the books, and Sean and Alice were in the office downtown.

Decker’s phone was at County General, which hopefully meant he was taking care of dear Aunt Tabby. The old woman was a loose end they couldn’t leave unsnipped.

Everyone was where they should be except for Reuben and Jason Jackson. Ken sent a group text to them all, telling them to come to his house for a mandatory meeting.

His company was spiraling out of control and things had to change. Otherwise Ken would take them all out – every last one of his so-called trusted group – and start all over again on a beach in the Turks and Caicos.

Seventeen

Cincinnati, Ohio

Tuesday 4 August, 3.25 P.M.

Marcus breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Scarlett turned on to her street. He hadn’t been certain that she actually intended to bring him to her house. She’d been totally rattled after that kiss, worried that she’d let go so completely that she’d forgotten her job. Even as the knowledge made him feel ten feet tall, he knew that if she’d turned around mid-route and taken him back to his office, he wouldn’t have complained or cajoled. It would have been her choice and he would have honored that. Because that kiss had rattled him too. He wanted her unfettered in her pleasure, wanted to make her forget her own damn name. But she had to want that too.

Now that they were so close to her house, he let himself believe that she did want him enough, that this thing between them had a real chance, whatever ‘this thing’ was.

He sighed to himself. And now that they were so close to her house – and to her next-door neighbor – he had something he needed to set straight. He hoped what he was about to tell her wouldn’t make her change her mind. ‘I, um, have a confession to make,’ he said, breaking the silence that had filled the car since Scarlett had gotten back on the highway. ‘I told you that I drove by your house.’

She downshifted as they started up the enormous hill atop which her house sat as if holding court with the houses gathered around. ‘Four times, I think you said.’

‘Yeah, well, I did a bit more than just drive by and look. When I saw your big Land Cruiser always parked in the driveway, I wondered whose it was.’

‘It’s mine,’ Scarlett said sharply.

‘I know that now. I thought at first it might belong to a . . . significant other.’

‘How did you find out it was mine?’ she asked.

He braced himself. ‘I kind of sort of asked your neighbor.’

Her brows shot up. ‘You kind-of-sort-of asked Mrs Pepper?’ She huffed in exasperation. ‘Oh for God’s sake. She’s the biggest gossip in the neighborhood.’

‘I didn’t intend to,’ he said defensively. ‘And I didn’t come straight out and ask her. I have a little more finesse than that.’

‘If you managed to get one by Mrs Pepper, then you’re a better man than most.’

But he wasn’t. He knew that. He was a better man than some, but not most. For months the truth about his mission at the Ledger had kept him from pursuing this woman he’d never been able to get out of his mind. No longer, he thought. He still had no intention of dragging her into his bend-the-law world. He wouldn’t ask her to look the other way or to betray her integrity by helping him. But he wasn’t letting her go. He’d find a way to have it all.

If she hadn’t been interested, he wouldn’t have pushed her. Hell, he wouldn’t even be here right now. But she was. She hadn’t pushed him away earlier. Far from it.

He had to touch her again soon or he was going to burn up, from the inside out.

‘I’m not sure I managed to get anything by Mrs Pepper. She might remember me.’

‘I have no doubt she will,’ Scarlett said dryly. ‘That woman is old, not dead. She has an appreciation for the male form. She paints, you know. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up on one of her canvases.’

He grinned at Scarlett’s sideways compliment. ‘Really? That wouldn’t be so bad.’

‘She only paints nudes.’

Marcus coughed. ‘Well. I’m . . . Thank you, Scarlett. Now I have that image in my mind.’

‘Hey, you’re the one who tangled with her.’

‘I only got out to check the license plates on the Land Cruiser. They were covered in mud.’

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. ‘When was this?’

‘Late March.’

‘Ah, we’d just had some snow.’ She motioned with her hand. ‘So, keep going.’

She was enjoying this, he realized. Which was fine with him. ‘Well, your neighbor takes her watch responsibilities seriously. She saw me checking out the Land Cruiser and came out to your driveway. “Young man,”’ he mimicked in a falsetto, ‘“do you mind telling me why you’re on Detective Bishop’s property? The woman owns guns, boy. Lots of guns.”’

Scarlett laughed. ‘She didn’t really say that.’

Marcus thought he could watch her laugh all day. And all night. ‘She totally did, I swear it. I told her that I was interested in buying the Land Cruiser and asked if she knew the name of the owner. She told me that you owned it and always had. I was very relieved.’

‘You could have just run my plates,’ Scarlett said tartly. ‘I’m sure you have the resources to do that.’

‘I do, and I did,’ he said. ‘The search confirmed what she said. Anyway, I did it mainly because I needed to know if I had a chance or if you were already taken. I’m sorry. I should have just asked Deacon. I thought you should know in case your neighbor remembers me.’

‘She will. She’s almost ninety, but she’s still sharp as a tack.’

‘I got that. I like your house, by the way,’ he said as they pulled into the driveway next to the Land Cruiser. The old Victorian was a charming cacophony of colors. ‘It has character.’

Staring up at it, she sighed. ‘It looks like a patchwork quilt right now. The old owners painted it willy-nilly with whatever was on sale. Purple, pink, green. Chartreuse, even. Don’t get me wrong, I like bright colors, but I want it to be authentic. I’ve been sanding it, getting it ready to paint it again.’

‘What color did you pick?’

‘Blue,’ she said with a smile. ‘A bright robin’s-egg blue with butterscotch trim. It was the original color when it was built in 1880. I found an old photo in the historical society’s archives with the colors listed on the back. It’s slow going, though. I’m nervous about using a power sander, so I’ve been doing it all by hand.’

‘You’re sanding it yourself? By hand? I thought you had six brothers.’

‘I do. Two of them are married with kids, so they have no free time. Two others are cops and work weird hours, so they’re never off when I am. One is a musician. He plays the cello with the Cincinnati Pops.’ She wiggled her fingers. ‘He can’t risk his hands.’

Marcus rolled his eyes, getting out of the car when she did and following her up to the garage door. ‘I play an instrument and I do plenty of sanding with my hands.’ He wiggled his fingers and she gave him a smile that was half shy and half seduction – and he wasn’t even sure she knew she did so.

‘I know you play the guitar. I heard it on the videos. I . . . I liked it very much.’

He wanted to grab her and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe. ‘It’s just a hobby. I guess if it were my living, I’d be more careful with my hands.’

‘No, you’re right. There are plenty of things Nathaniel could do to help me around here, but he’s the baby of the family and Mama won’t let us put a tool belt on him.’ She leaned in a fraction and whispered, ‘But he sneaks over here sometimes to help me in my workshop. Don’t tell my mother.’

‘Your secret is safe with me,’ he said, and watched for her reaction.

Her blue eyes flickered with memory, her smile fading. ‘I think it just might be,’ she murmured, making his heart do a slow roll inside his chest.

They’d had this conversation before, back when he’d been in the hospital. Except their lines had been reversed. She’d remembered – not only the exact words, but she’d heard the nuance in his voice that day and now she reproduced it.

Trust, he thought. They were building trust. It was a damn good start.

Abruptly she bent over and yanked up one of the two garage doors before he could even offer to help. He waited until she’d straightened to say, ‘That was only five.’

She blinked. ‘What?’

‘You said you have six brothers but only mentioned five.’

She moved her shoulders uncomfortably. ‘Phin went to Iraq and came back somebody different. He moved down South a while back, but we don’t know where. We don’t hear from him that often.’

‘Oh.’ Marcus sighed. ‘That happened to a lot of men I knew over there. I’m sorry.’

‘Thanks. We’re twins, so he was always there until I went to college and he joined up. Now he’s gone and I miss him.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I figured you’d want the nickel tour, so we’ll start here.’

‘Scar-lett!’ They turned to find her elderly neighbor standing on the front porch next door, waving to them. ‘You forgot to introduce me to your young man.’

‘I didn’t want to bother you, Mrs Pepper.’

The old woman gave her a stern look. ‘Stuff and nonsense. Come here, young man. Closer.’ She crooked a finger, and Marcus obeyed, walking across the grass to the old woman’s front lawn. ‘Closer. My eyes aren’t so good anymore.’

‘Pfff,’ Scarlett said, but followed him as he obeyed, getting right up against her porch railing and looking up to meet a pair of sharp, intelligent eyes. He cocked a brow, wondering if she remembered him. The woman’s eyes twinkled, giving him his answer. ‘I like this one,’ she told Scarlett. ‘Much better than that other one. This one’s got a pure aura. The other one . . .’ She made a face. ‘I’m glad you gave him his walking papers.’

Marcus glanced over at Scarlett, his brows nearly leaping off his forehead he raised them so high in question. ‘Other one?’

Scarlett’s cheeks were flushed. ‘I don’t mean to be rude, Mrs Pepper, but we’re pressed for time. I just came home to walk Zat.’

‘Of course.’ She sobered abruptly. ‘Be careful, Scarlett. I have a bad feeling in my knees. You’re overdue for trouble.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Scarlett said dutifully. ‘I’ll be very careful.’

‘You never did tell me your name, young man,’ Mrs Pepper said briskly.

‘O’Bannion, ma’am. Marcus O’Bannion.’

‘It’s nice to formally meet you. You come back if you need anything, y’hear?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said. He gave the old woman a courteous nod, then turned to follow Scarlett into her garage. Once inside, he stood for a moment, looking around, then turned in a circle to see it all. ‘Wow.’

Half of the garage was empty, a telltale oil spot on the floor marking it as where she parked her little Audi. But the other half was filled with wood in various stages of production, and with tools – power saws and routers and lathes . . . He sucked in a breath. And with glass.

Stained glass in all colors and shapes sat propped up on shelves. About ten shards in the colors of the rainbow hung from the ceiling, twisting and spinning in the breeze created by the ceiling fan.

‘You should have a window,’ he said quietly. ‘They’d sparkle.’

‘They do, when I open both garage doors and let the sunshine in.’ She pulled the second door up and stood back, a small smile playing on her lips.

‘Did you make them?’

‘Yes. These hanging here were the rejects because the glass is all bubbly, but I like them. Sometimes I’ll make them bubbly on purpose now.’

‘I like them too. All this . . .’ He pointed to the woodworking tools. ‘All yours?’

‘Yep. I inherited it from my grandfather along with the Tank. The Land Cruiser,’ she clarified. ‘I was the only one of his grandchildren that showed any interest in woodworking. It helps me vent off stress when I have a bad day at work.’

He picked up a finely turned wooden spindle that would eventually end up in a chair. ‘You make furniture?’

‘Some. I fix a lot. Sometimes people throw away stuff that’s still good. It just needs a little TLC. Some sanding, a new leg or some upholstery. A coat of paint or varnish. Then it’s good as new. Better, even.’

‘What do you do with the furniture you rescue?’ he asked.

‘Donate it, mostly. I keep some. Give a few pieces as gifts.’ She pointed to an old-fashioned roll-top desk that had been stripped and sanded, the drawers freshly stained. ‘That’s going to be a wedding present for Deacon and Faith. It’ll look nice when it’s done.’

‘Faith will love it,’ he said, knowing his cousin’s fascination with antiques. She had spent the past nine months inventorying then selling off many of the best pieces she’d inherited from her grandmother, putting the money in a fund for the victims of the killer who’d taken Mikhail’s life and the lives of so many others. ‘She’ll treasure it because you put so much time into it.’

Shrugging self-consciously, Scarlett reached up to pull the string on the overhead light bulb, illuminating the garage before pulling both outer doors down. Marcus considered helping her, but he was enjoying watching the movement of her body as she stretched and turned and flexed. She came to her feet after pulling down the second door and stared at him, clearly seeing the appreciation on his face.

‘It’s not a crime scene,’ he said, looking his fill. He’d seen her shiver before when he’d dropped his voice deeper, so he did that now, shamelessly enticing her with any tool at his disposal. ‘And we are definitely not in public.’

‘No,’ she said huskily, sending every drop of blood from his head to his groin.

He moved toward her, but she sidestepped him. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘I have to walk the dog.’

Marcus exhaled heavily and followed her from the garage into her laundry room, closing the door behind them. ‘You’re trying to kill me now,’ he muttered, then smiled when he heard her chuckle.

‘Maybe just a little, but you can take it.’ She dropped to one knee at the sound of pattering of dog claws, their rhythm staccato. ‘Hey, boy,’ she crooned as a three-legged bulldog came around the corner. Her hands gently cupped the dog’s jowly head, her thumbs scratching his ears. ‘Fooled you, didn’t I? I came in a different door than I left this morning. Made you work to find me.’

The dog looked up lazily and uttered a token growl at Marcus, making her laugh. ‘He’s not much of a watch dog, but that’s okay. Zat, this is Marcus. He’s okay.’ She looked up at Marcus over her shoulder. ‘He won’t bite you.’

Marcus hadn’t thought he would. He’d been too absorbed in watching Scarlett’s face as she talked to the dog to even care if the dog had bitten him. She was softer, gentler than he’d ever seen her. And suddenly he envied the dog, who was the current recipient of that gentle touch. Slowly he eased down on one knee beside her, so close that their hips bumped and her cheeks colored the prettiest pink.

‘You adopted him from Delores’s shelter, didn’t you?’ he asked.

‘Yes. Not the first time I went out there, or even the second. But he was still around the third time I visited her. I kept thinking that a family with kids would take him and give him a good home, but nobody did. So I did.’ Her voice softened to a croon again. ‘Idiots didn’t know they’d passed over the best dog in the shelter, did they, Zat? So I’m the lucky one.’

Marcus’s throat tightened as he wondered if she knew how much she’d just shared with him. This woman fixed broken things. He wondered if she saw him as broken too. He didn’t want to think so, even though he knew it was true. ‘Why do you call him Zat?’ he asked as he scratched behind the dog’s ear, for the simple pleasure of brushing against her hand as he did so.

‘It’s for the movie – Zatoichi. He’s a blind swordsman.’ She shrugged. ‘Japanese martial arts movies are a thing with my brothers. Phin especially. I sent him a picture of Zat when I adopted him, hoping it would bring back some good memories of our Zatoichi movie marathons, but I haven’t heard a word.’

‘How long has it been since you sent it?’

‘A month.’

‘Send it again,’ he suggested softly. ‘He may want to reconnect but not be able to. Yet. He can always say he didn’t get the first text. Or the first twenty. Just don’t give up on him.’

‘I haven’t. I won’t.’ She met his eyes. ‘You haven’t given up on Stone.’

‘No. I can’t. He . . . needs me.’

‘Why?’

Marcus hesitated. ‘That may be a story for another day.’ He waited for her to get angry, but she surprised him again, nodding sagely.

‘I get it. Some secrets are yours to tell. Others aren’t.’ She stood up quickly and walked into her kitchen, done in classic 1970s. But it wasn’t retro, it was original, the wallpaper bright enough to make his eyes bleed. ‘It’s on my list of things to do,’ she said apologetically. ‘But the stovetop and the microwave both work, so I can eat until I can afford the oven I really want.’