Chapter Twenty-Five
Dustin spent Christmas snowbound. He’d managed to book a cabin in nowhere Colorado just below the Wyoming border. It wasn’t much, but it had a big-ass fireplace, and plenty of wood.
He knew with the stupid weather and road conditions, he’d been lucky to get that far. Plus, it gave him practice building and maintaining a fire.
He had food because he’d stopped for it when he hadn’t been able to ignore the weather or the forecasts any longer.
At his last stop, he’d seen his face on TV.
So they’d found the old whore’s body, but he’d figured on it. Fuckface Lester got back from screwing around in London and got a big early Christmas surprise. He got a good laugh out of that one.
Still, seeing his face, hearing about a manhunt for him brought fear, too.
So he bought hair dye and wraparound sunglasses and decided he’d been smart to stop shaving.
He’d look hot in a beard anyway.
After the fear came a kind of pride. A manhunt. How cool was that? But he was the man, and he was the one doing the hunting.
They’d never find him. Sure, they had the car description, too, but his wasn’t the only Mercedes sedan on the road, and his now bore Nebraska plates thanks to a late-night stop at a Walmart parking lot.
He’d spend a few days in the mountain cabin while they looked for him wherever. He’d dye his hair, and his beard—it was coming along. He’d practice with the gun, and the hunting rifle, with scope, he’d bought in Iowa.
He deserved a little R and R after all he’d been through.
He sat by the fire with its snarling bear head over the mantel, drinking a beer, munching on chips, and studying his mother’s diamond ring.
Maybe he’d put it on eBay. Get an appraisal of the set, then put them up one at a time, so it didn’t look like a set. He had the other pieces, the earrings, the watch, the emerald ring. The stuff she’d had in her travel case.
Sell a little here, a little there. Fresh cash couldn’t hurt. Plus, if he gave Arden jewelry—she’d have to earn it—it wouldn’t be from the bitch who’d busted up his family.
Eventually, he’d find some rube, sell the Mercedes on the cheap, and get himself a big, honking truck. Meanwhile …
He put the ring on the table, munched more chips.
He’d scrape up the Mercedes, maybe put a dent in it, like he’d been sideswiped.
He’d take it in, have it fixed and painted. Maybe a classy blue, or an in-your-face red. And the cops would chase their tails looking for the gray car.
He was so much smarter than the cops it was almost embarrassing.
He rose, walked to the window where the world outside spread white on black on white on a kind of steely blue. The snow had slowed, and what fell now fell thinly. But he remembered a near panic when he’d barely made it to the cabin.
Considering he’d expected to stay locked up in hell until spring, he was ahead of schedule. He could wait a few more days.
He didn’t mind spending Christmas alone. Next one he’d spend with Arden. Meanwhile, he had a Hungry-Man turkey dinner to nuke up when he wanted it, plenty of beer and snacks.
Because, he told himself, he knew how to plan and prepare. Because he had brains and balls.
He decided he’d gear up, go out for some target practice.
As he put on his boots, he looked over at the picture of Arden he’d found on the internet, printed out, and framed.
He smiled, felt himself go satisfyingly hard when he picked it up, kissed it.
“Not much longer now, baby. After I teach you a lesson—or two—you’re going to make me the happiest man on Earth.”
He put on his parka, his hat, gloves. As he debated between the rifle, shotgun, or Glock, he reminded himself he needed to pick up some zip ties and duct tape. Handcuffs, too, because some lessons took time to learn.
He decided on the Glock, and smiling, aimed it at the photo. He went “Bang,” then blew the photo a kiss before going out into the world of white.
On Christmas morning, Gideon made pancakes. That ranked as a surprise right up there with the sparkle of the diamond hoops he’d given her—which she wore now with her pajamas.
She’d leaned on Joe and gone with his advice on a woodworking tool. She had no real idea what it did, or why, but Gideon had.
And since he’d already put on the cashmere hoodie—the same color as his eyes—she knew she’d hit the mark.
“That was great. You’re now officially in charge of pancakes. Now get out.”
“Of the kitchen?”
“Of the house. Go spend a couple hours with Joe and your parents. They came all this way, Gideon, and they said they’re going to video call with your brother and sister later this morning. You need to be there.”
When he hesitated, she pushed.
“You know you do. And I have a lot to take care of. Come back after you’ve spent some Christmas with them and help me finish all that up.
“I have locks on the door, a dog, a phone. We both know you can’t be here around the clock, so go, be a good son.”
“I’ll add the house to routine patrols.”
“That’s fine, Chief.”
When he left, she put on a Christmas movie—something she thought of as smoochily romantic.
She made the rub for the roast, prepped it, covered it, and put it in the fridge.
Crossing her fingers first, she made the horseradish cream, then put that in to chill.
The second sauce, a merlot au jus, came later.
Add honey-glazed carrots, scalloped potatoes, green beans almondine, the fennel salad with mandarin oranges—plus the bread and desserts Nick would bring—and she’d have a genuine Christmas feast.
She looked at Zorro, who watched her, wearing his shiny Christmas bow. He had his paws crossed over his newest pal, a stuffed sloth.
“All I have to do is pull it off.”
Turning to the dining room table, she rubbed her hands together.
“You first.”
When she finished, she stepped back, breathed out.
No, she hadn’t been foolish buying the holiday dinnerware with its red rims, its pale gold Christmas trees, or the holly berry napkin rings, or taking the time to fancy-fold the napkins—the same pale gold as the trees.
Or the wineglasses with the red stems, the water glasses with the gold.
This? Tradition now, things she’d take out and use whenever she hosted a holiday meal. This? The start of a future, one she’d share with Gideon.
She dealt with the kitchen—and that was a mess—did a sweep through the house to make certain nothing else was.
After the holidays, she promised herself as she went in to dress, she’d give serious thought—combined with action—on finishing the lower level.
It struck her that she’d need to consult and decide there with Gideon.
That could be interesting.
She walked to the window. The rain had stopped, and while the sun played hide-and-seek with the clouds, light shimmered down on the valley. It tossed a glint here and there from the wind of the river.
How lucky, she thought, she’d come here, she’d found this place. Found home, found love, found a future.
Maybe fear had played a part in all that, but she’d leave fear behind now.
Because the dog stood beside her, she laid a hand on his head.
“Everything I want is right here, Zorro, and isn’t that amazing?”
They’d find Dustin Dubecki and put him away. Right now, she realized, she believed that absolutely.
She wouldn’t hide anymore, wouldn’t check locks a second time. No more closing in, but an opening out.
“I’m going to see to that ring very soon.”
Downstairs, she lit the fires, then bracing herself, put an apron over her Christmas-red dress.
“Here we go, Zorro.”
By the time Gideon arrived, and used his new key, she had the roast in the oven, had begun peeling an impressive mountain of potatoes.
“I can see what I’m going to be doing.”
“Grab a peeler. How was Christmas at Joe’s?”
“It was good. I took a little heat for not bringing you.” He looked in the dining room. “What? Did you take lessons?”
“Internet research. I have skills.”
“Apparently. You look good, Legs. Nice dress, nice apron.”
“Don’t get used to the apron. Day after tomorrow, I’m back at work.”
“So don’t expect to come home to a hot meal every night.”
Tossing back her braid, she smiled. “We’ll negotiate. Cooking.” She pointed to herself, then him. “Takeout.”
“Fair.”
When he picked up another peeler and a potato, she leaned against him. “We should add cooking together night or nights. This is nice.”
“Unexpected. I sure as hell never expected you, or this.” Turning his head, he kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, it’s nice.”
With the food in the ovens, and just as Arden finished fussing with some holiday crudités, Zorro began barking. When she went to the door, April, the boys, and Travis rolled in.
“They’ve got to pee,” April said. “Me, too! Like now.”
“Take the powder room. Jonah, upstairs with me. Travis, take Trent to the upstairs hall bath.”
“Merry Christmas!” April called out as she made her dash.
Quiet Christmas Day time done, Gideon thought. He checked himself and found he didn’t mind a bit.
That was fortunate, as the rest weren’t far behind.
Still, he never slid easily into big social situations, so he designated himself as bartender. He made drinks, poured wine, and observed.
Jamie, in his reindeer sweater, fanboyed his mother, and made her laugh and sparkle.
He saw his father in what seemed like an earnest conversation with Jonah about monster trucks.
Doug and April played an endless game of Hungry Hungry Hippos with a couple of the kids.
Jen had another on her hip as she talked to Nick and Travis.
Zoey and Arden disappeared briefly. When she showed up again, Zoey came up to him, kissed him.
“Ah, thanks?”
“I love my parents, my brother, his family, my husband, my kids. And this one in here.” She patted her baby mound. “But Arden’s my person. I think you might deserve her.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Now, because I’m disposed to love you, it’s daisies over roses, popcorn over caviar, classic over trendy, and you hit home runs with the dragon box and the earrings. Good job.”
“You brought her the purple dragon in the hospital.”
“Yeah.”