Seven
Some authorities believed the Canceled Killer had the skills of a hired killer or a spy since he seemed to be able to get in and out of a crime scene without being seen or leaving evidence behind.
—Crime Hive podcast
If ever I wished the Canceled Killer would just show up and murder me already, it was right at that moment.
Spider-Man Mateo jumped off the porch, whipped off his mask (why was he wearing his mask?), wrapped me up in a giant enthusiastic hug, and kissed me on the lips.
“Surprise, mi cielo!” he said in just the hint of that accent that usually melted away my clothes, as he broke the hug, not seeming to care that both Jude and Russo were looking at him like they weren’t sure if they should wrestle him to the ground or call a mental health hotline.
“Uh, hey! What are you… doing here?”
His curly brown hair was an adorably ruffled mess, his dark eyes sparkling with boyish delight. Had the man aged in reverse? How young was he?
“You said you were headed home for a while and I just figured… why not?”
I could think of about a million reasons why not, and at the top of that list was the fact that my relationship with Mateo was supposed to be totally contained in Chicago and that no one was ever supposed to know about it.
But Mateo didn’t plan anything. He was 100 percent impulse and made me look like a planner with a computer full of Excel spreadsheets and to-do lists.
“But what about TGI Fridays?” I asked. When Mateo wasn’t dangling upside down from skyscrapers in front of cameras, he slung nachos and jalapeno poppers.
“Oh, I got fired this week.” He shrugged. While I actually worried about losing a job, Mateo never did. “I told a woman she needed to lay off the extra fries. It was a joke, but it kind of went viral.”
“You fat-shamed a patron?” I asked, shocked. Mateo was usually kinder than that. He refused to use plastic straws because he was trying to save the sea turtles.
“Well, she told me she was going to call ICE on me, and I said, ‘go ahead, sister, I was born in Puerto Rico.’ Mi dios. She told me ICE would deport me back there. I had to explain I was a US citizen.”
I didn’t even want to look at Jude or Russo, but I could see them in my periphery. Jude was grinning ear to ear, enjoying the spectacle that he’d no doubt tease me mercilessly about later. Russo was scowling in a way that told me he found none of this funny. In the least.
“I’m Aaron Russo,” the detective said suddenly, interrupting the conversation. “Chicago Homicide. Why don’t you tell me a little more about how you abused a patron?”
Mateo went paler than the whites of the eyes on the Spider-Man cowl he held in one hand.
“Uh…” He did not care for authority, as evidenced by the fact that he had stolen his official costume from the Spider-Man movie set.
Authority usually got in the way of Mateo’s never-think-of-consequences life philosophy.
Mateo, a bona fide short king, glanced up at Russo and then at Jude.
Both men were considerably taller than him, probably by five or so inches, and both had at least double the weight in sheer muscle mass.
“Sorry, where are my manners? I forgot to introduce you,” I hurriedly said, rushing over Russo’s opening salvo. “Mateo, this is Jude. My brother’s best friend.”
Jude gamely offered his hand for a shake. “Hi, Mateo. Nice to meet you.” He flashed Mateo a grin. “Are you… still in school?” Jude’s mouth curved up in a smile. That was his way of fishing around for Mateo’s age. Not cool, Jude. Not cool.
“Oh, me? No. I dropped out of acting school,” Mateo said with a shrug. “Decided to just learn at auditions.”
“Oh, I see. How do you know Ella?” Jude asked, pleasantly enough, but there was a gleam of delight in his eyes.
“Spark,” Mateo answered, and I was pretty close to texting the Canceled Killer and begging him to just kill me already.
“Ah, I see.” Jude looked like he was going to burst out laughing.
Russo looked like he was going to punch someone in the face.
“Mateo?” Olivia chimed in, saving me. “Want to come in the kitchen? I’ve got a new pot of coffee on. And I made a batch of mochi donuts.”
Unlike our mother, Olivia could actually bake.
“I love coffee!” Spider-Man Mateo cheered. “And what’s a mochi donut?”
“Come on inside and have one.” Olivia beckoned him from the porch, and I wanted to hug the life out of her. I hadn’t even told her about Mateo, but she knew me well enough to know exactly what was happening at this moment.
“I’d love one, too, if that’s all right,” Jude said, sending a sly glance in my direction.
Of course he’d follow Mateo. He wanted to get as many damning details as possible to ridicule me with later, and no doubt rat me out to Oscar.
Not that my brother should care who I dated or not.
Frankly, he should just be glad it wasn’t Jude.
He gave Russo and me a nod as he trotted after my sister and Spider-Man.
As glad as I was to be free of them, I was also alone with Russo. An annoyed Russo.
I glanced at his steel-blue eyes. Maybe this wasn’t better.
“What the hell?” Russo asked me, shaking his head in disapproval. “You got all the Avengers in your bedroom? You got the Hulk and Captain America in there, too?”
“Hey, don’t kink shame me,” I joked. But Russo didn’t laugh. He didn’t even crack a smile. Instead, he took one step closer to me, solemn.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with what you do in your downtime. I shouldn’t have to say this, but you’ve got to be careful,” he warned me, voice low. “The Canceled Killer is here, and you can’t trust anyone. Spider Guy could be a suspect.”
“Spider-Man Mateo?” I squawked, appalled. I couldn’t imagine him murdering anything except a decent nine-to-five job. TGI Fridays was the third regular paying job he’d been fired from since we began hooking up six months ago.
“Right now, everyone’s a suspect,” Russo said. He blinked at me. “That nerd your brother’s friends with? Did you know he went to Chicago several times last year?”
“No,” I said. I knew about the cheese symposium. But that was one time.
“Everyone’s a suspect,” Russo reiterated. “Even you, kid.”
I snorted a laugh, but Russo didn’t join me.
“Me? You think I could strangle a man to death who’s double my weight?” I protested.
“I do, Miss Krav Maga junior champion. Plus, you know some of the victims were drugged first.”
“I am not the killer,” I said, getting worked up as my blood pressure rose.
“I know,” Russo said, waving his hand dismissively.
“I’m just saying, this time, I’m not overlooking anything.
” He fixed me with a sharp glance. I couldn’t blame him for that.
I felt a flicker of guilt. It was my fault his investigation ran off the rails to begin with.
“And you shouldn’t get complacent, either. Don’t let that guard down.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
Approval lit up Russo’s eyes. “Good,” he said, serious. “Because if anything happened to you…” His voice trailed off as he pressed his lips in a thin line. His blue eyes flashed vengeance.
My heart fluttered a little, his protective streak striking a chord with my inner cavewoman, who chose men based on their ability to fend off predators and build fires.
“So, you see anything the least bit weird, the least bit off, you call me, okay? And keep your phone with you. Don’t ignore my texts or calls. Otherwise, I’ll think the worst.”
I nodded. “I promise.”
“Good,” he said. He glanced at me, holding my gaze for longer than seemed casual. “Got my room ready for me?”
I nodded. “You can have your pick.” I gestured toward the big white house. He smiled at me then, a genuine smile.
He fixed me with a serious blue gaze. “I’d rather have the one you’re in.”
I felt myself flush hot, from my scalp to my toes.
All the words dried up on my tongue. He reached up and touched my chin just right at that moment, a tender, definitely not all professional gesture.
His fingertips felt strong and warm beneath my chin.
I thought he might kiss me again, but instead, his fingers fell away.
“You think about where you want me sleeping tonight,” he told me. “Right now, I’ve got to go.”
He was leaving?
“Wait—why?” I glanced up at him, meeting his inscrutable blue gaze.
“There’s something I need to take care of. A contact I need to meet.”
“I want to come,” I said.
Russo shook his head slowly. “Not this time.” He didn’t elaborate. I couldn’t help but feel the sting of the rejection. I’d thought we were a team. But he was already backing away from me. Moving toward the bamboo fencing at the edge of the property.
“You make sure to stay near your sister or brother while I’m gone.”
“Okay,” I said, trailing after him, but I sounded almost as petulant as I felt. He’d shooed me off to the kids’ table to wait.
He hesitated, hand on the handle of the gate. “Maybe send the webslinger packing.”
I hesitated. “Okay.”
“Good. You gonna be okay?”
“Do I have a choice?”
Russo chuckled. “Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”
“No promises,” I said.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He opened the gate and let it slap shut behind him. He sent me one last long look over his shoulder before he turned the corner and disappeared. I wondered who the hell he was going to talk to and why he was freezing me out.
I sat there staring after him for a minute or two, thinking he might come back and get me. Also, I dreaded facing Mateo and Jude.
My phone pinged. I grabbed it out of my pocket, half-hoping Russo had changed his mind and was texting me to meet him out front. But it wasn’t Russo.
Ready or not…
From a random number. I suspected it came from the stalker app. I felt a little twitch of unease in my stomach.
The CanceledKill account had sent me the same taunt.
I looked up the number. Yep, the app just like I thought. I took a screenshot, then blocked and deleted it.