Twenty-Three
Iwanted to know what was going on, but when I called Sam as soon as I woke up later that morning, he didn’t answer. I got Dane on the second ring, and he said that, yes, Sam was with him and that neither of them could talk. He hung up on me before I got out another word. It was just plain rude.
I checked outside, and it was still pouring, still dark, and still overcast and gray. The police cruiser was there, and I saw it through the rivulets running down the window. Outside the front door were two uniformed policemen. I told them I would make coffee, and they were both very appreciative.
Walking around the apartment, I realized how cold it seemed, how shadowy.
Maybe Sam was right; maybe moving back into his place was a better idea.
Logically, I knew someone could break into Sam’s apartment too, but before someone bought it, maybe taking it off the market and moving back in was a better idea.
Dane had never understood how moving into a rental and selling the place Sam owned was smart, and it wasn’t.
I had just been too stubborn to agree with him.
When Sam got home, I would tell him I had reconsidered and that his place could be our place again.
I just couldn’t shake my feeling of unease, and I doubted it would ever go away.
I delivered the policemen outside my door steaming hot mugs of coffee and told them that I would make blueberry muffins shortly, since I wasn’t going to work.
I had firm orders from Sam to sit my ass home.
That was the note I had awoken to on my nightstand.
Apparently even if I tried to leave the apartment, I wasn’t going anywhere—the policemen had orders.
I resigned myself to being home, then called Aubrey, called Dylan, and finally Aja just to see what she was doing.
She was dying to know what was going on as well, since she too was at home under police protection.
I told her I was baking. She was doing conference calls on her cell. She won for being more productive.
I delivered the muffins to the officers with more coffee, then decided to take a shower.
I was creeped out, though, and dragged a chair into the bathroom and wedged it against the door so no one could come in without me knowing.
That was the very reason why I had a see-through vinyl shower curtain.
Norman Bates was never going to get the best of me.
Once I was out and changed, I went to the kitchen and made myself some tea.
I debated what I wanted to eat, or even whether I was hungry, and realized, after a few minutes, how cold it was in the apartment.
I went to get a sweater from my bedroom, and when I started back, the door of the hallway closet was open.
I froze, heard movement behind me, and when I turned, I came face-to-face with Caleb Reid.
“Jesus,” I croaked out, backpedaling before he raised the gun. There was a knock on the door then.
“Tell them you don’t want them inside, Jory,” he told me, his voice soft, controlled like it never was.
“Yes?” I called out.
“Mr. Harcourt, just wanted to let you know that we’re changing shifts. Do you want us to bring your plates and mugs inside?”
“No, just leave them by the door, and make sure to notify Detective Kage about the shift change as well.”
There was no reply, and I hoped that meant something good.
“What the hell was that about?” Caleb asked under his breath.
“If they don’t call and let Sam know they’re swapping out—and I know he’s keeping track of the time—he’ll send them in here along with the officers out front,” I said flatly, hoping he couldn’t tell I was lying.
Caleb nodded.
“You told me you didn’t want anyone inside with us, I’m just doing what you asked.”
“Good. That’s good,” he muttered, and forced a smile for me.
“How did you get in here?” I asked him.
“Well, I’ve had duplicates of your keys for a while now. I can get in and out of this apartment at any time.”
That was terrifying and made me want to move out yesterday. “Tell me what happened when you were in here before.”
“Before?” he asked innocently.
“I want to know. Please, Caleb,” I pleaded.
He smiled at me. “I came in the first time expecting you to be alone. I thought Sam would be working or something, so when I heard him, I ran and went out the fire escape.”
Which explained why that window had been open.
“And this time?”
“Earlier this morning, during the last shift change, right after Sam left, I snuck back into the building, came in here, and hid in the closet.”
“You were here the whole time?”
“Yeah,” he said, like that was perfectly normal. “I watched you sleep for a while. It was very relaxing.”
I felt my skin crawl, tried to control the tremor that ran through me without success.
“Scary, right?”
I was just staring at him, realizing that his pupils were completely dilated. He looked like he was on something, I just had no idea what. “Tell me what you’re gonna do now.”
“Come closer. I want to look at your eyes. I never look at them.”
My life depended on me moving forward, but I still couldn’t.
“Where’s your mother, Jory?”
“I have no idea.”
“So you’re an orphan.”
“Yeah.”
He nodded. “But not really… You have Dane.”
Normally, I would have reminded him, or anyone, that having siblings didn’t preclude one from being an orphan. At that moment, I remained quiet.
“And you’re the only one who does.”
Looking at him, I saw how empty he looked. Like he was all used up. I had never noticed that before.
“Say something.”
“Like what?”
He stepped closer to me. “Why did he pick you?”
“I have no idea.”
“You’ve never asked?”
“No.”
“He destroyed my family, you know.”
“How?”
“My dad—he stopped loving my mom.”
“Why?”
“Because she gave away his son. He can’t ever forgive her for not having any faith in him.”
“They were both in high school. He needs to cut her some slack.”
He smiled slightly, but it was bittersweet. “Yes, he does.”
I waited for what he would do next.
“She wanted him back so desperately.”
Every woman who met Dane Harcourt wanted something from him. Not surprising that his own mother was no different.
“And you, Jory, you’re the reason he wouldn’t give her a second chance. Why did he need his old family when he had you?”
The calm, controlled voice was way scarier than if he’d been yelling at me. I felt goose bumps rise on my skin.
“He hates me—my dad, my mom…all of us.”
“No.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re right. It’s worse than hate. He feels nothing for me, for any of us.”
Which was the truth.
“I thought maybe my dad had a shot with him—he didn’t know, after all.”
I was silent, not wanting to provoke him.
“It was so easy for my dad to ask for the money. Dane will do anything but spend time with him, or me. It’s like he’d pay us to stay away from him.”
Time required interest, which Dane didn’t have. Caleb was right. Money was easy to get; sitting around just talking, hanging out, that was asking for too much. Dane only spent time with those he truly loved.
Caleb made a noise then, like a whimper, and took a long breath. When I looked back at him, tears were rolling down his cheeks.
“Are you—”
“Dane never touches me first. If I never hugged him again, he wouldn’t care. But you… Just how soft his eyes are when you walk into the room…it takes my breath away.”
It was a weird thing to say. It wasn’t something a brother would think, it was something a mother would think…an estranged one.
I watched the tears slowly slide down his cheeks.
“And now there’s Aja too. There used to be just you, but now she’s there.”
He wasn’t really talking to me. I wasn’t sure if he could even see me.
“I just wanted my life back, Jory… I wanted him back.”
My life back?
Crap. Scary things coming into focus that I needed to confirm. “Caleb?” I asked softly.
He looked confused. “No, Jory, it’s me.”
My stomach flipped over.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He didn’t think he was Caleb. Jesus, who did he think he was?
“I thought when I found him…since his adoptive parents were dead… I thought he would need us—need me. But he didn’t. He didn’t need any of us…because he had you.”
When did he go from being Caleb to being whoever he was now? He had started out as Caleb, but now…
“Why did you have to be there, Jory, dear?”
Dear?
“Funny… You really are such a good boy.”
He sounded just like…Susan.
“Shit,” I swore.
His head tilted like he was interested in what I was going to say, interested in what conclusion I would draw.
Holy crap. He thought he was his mother.
We stood there facing each other, him still holding his gun on me, me ready to try and dart away in hopes of not being murdered.
“Why kill all those guys?” I asked him, trying to strike up a conversation.
“I didn’t mean to,” he said, smiling at me coldly. “I just—Caleb likes you, and he was supposed to help.”
Meaning she wanted to kill me, but her son wouldn’t let her. “Did Caleb do anything?”
“He called you after you got away from me.”
“He didn’t kill anybody.”
“No, nobody.”
“You’re strong. They thought a man killed those guys.”
“A mother will do anything for her child.”
I nodded. “You blew up Sam’s car.”
“I thought if I killed him, then you would kill yourself in grief.”
“And be out of Dane’s life.”
“Yes,” he hissed.
“But Sam didn’t die,” I pointed out.
“No, and then you came looking for me.”
I had been looking for the person who’d tried to kill Sam; I’d had no idea it was Caleb the whole time. “So you killed Greg and his mother.”
“And Caleb knew it.”
Surreal to be talking to Caleb with him answering like he was Susan.
“He covered for you, grabbing the knife.”
“Yes. He’s stupid, but he’s not a complete fool.”
“Why would Greg Fain help you kidnap me?”
He arched an eyebrow.
“Please tell me.”
His eyes narrowed. “His mother was a nun before she was raped. Who do you think bore the brunt of all her rage?”
Which answered my questions about why mother and son didn’t live together.
“Who do you think was filthy and never loved?”
“I get it.”
“I was the only mother who ever loved him.”