Chapter 42
Chapter forty-two
Damien
Achirp comes from inside Luna’s purse, and she steps out of my arms to retrieve it. Athena rises from her bed and waddles over to me. I crouch to scratch behind her ear. I’d risen before sunrise and fed her, then let her out, but she’s restless and ready for some attention.
“Shit.”
“What?”
I walk up behind Luna and peek over her shoulder. She has eleven text messages and five missed calls.
“I don’t know, but I have to get home now.”
She dials Maren’s number as we get in the car, cringing when her friend’s voice comes through after only one ring.
“Well, well, well. Look who finally remembered she has a phone. That dick better have fucked you until your head popped off your shoulders because that’s the only acceptable excuse for ghosting me all morning.”
Even though she’s not on speakerphone, every word echoes in the car because Maren only has one level. Loud.
“I’m sorry, Mar. We lost track of time.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Maren snorts. “You’re lucky I stayed here last night. I rolled on over to check the critters around six this morning because I couldn’t sleep anymore, and Ricky has learned how to open his cage door.”
“I was afraid of that. What did he do?”
“He got into the fridge, ate my stash of blueberries, all the bananas, the turkey sandwich I left here yesterday, which had avocado on it, and now he’s got diarrhea.”
“Oh, Rick.” Luna’s head falls back against the seat.
I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. It’s not funny. But it is.
“Oh, and he figured out how to turn on the TV in the lobby, and it was blasting Game of Thrones. All the inside critters were awake and in a ruckus. I’ve finally got everyone settled, but we’re going to need to order more Gabapentin because I went through a lot of that shit calming everybody down today. ”
“Mar, I’m so sorry.”
“Whatever. I’m over it. But you better have gotten your world rocked last night to ignore me like that.”
“Is that why you called me five times?”
“Oh, no, it’s not, actually. I may be over having to wrangle this three-ring circus, but the Wolfe’s asshole sidekick has been here since ten, waiting for the two of you. He’s getting on my last fucking nerve so bad, I’m plotting ways to murder him.”
“Why is Cade there? Why didn’t he just come to Damien’s?”
Luna looks at me with confusion, and I shake my head. I have no idea.
Maren snorts again. “Apparently, he did. But he turned right back around and left when he heard you screaming upstairs. I told him he should have at least checked to make sure you weren’t being tortured or murdered, but he said it wasn’t those kinds of screams.”
Luna glares at me, but what the fuck did I do wrong? I didn’t show up unannounced at somebody’s house.
I pull into the sanctuary’s long driveway and park next to Cade’s Tahoe. Why the fuck did he drive up rather than take the helicopter?
“We just pulled up. I’ll be right in.” She disconnects the call and glares at me. “This is your fault.”
I grab her hand and bring her fingers to my lips. “And I don’t feel the least bit of remorse.”
“Of course you don’t.” She tries for stern, but her lips betray her, curving up at the edges.
We exit the car, and Athena scampers over to greet Ghost, who’s relaxing on the main house’s front porch. I follow Luna into the sanctuary’s front door. The moment we step inside, Maren’s voice carries from the back treatment area.
“I swear to God, Rambo, if you don’t back the fuck off, I’m going to punch you in the nuts.”
“Twenty-three minutes.” The smirk in his voice is audible from here. “That’s how long you’ve been cursing at that equipment. I could have solved your issue in five.”
“Did I ask?” The sound of something clattering against a countertop punctuates her frustration. “Go mansplain somewhere else.”
“You know, most women appreciate my expertise.”
“I don’t need your help. Has anyone ever told you, you’re an arrogant pain in the ass?”
“Yes, frequently. But judging by how flushed you get when you’re yelling at me, I think you might actually enjoy a little pain in the ass now and then.”
“That’s it!” Maren screeches.
Luna pushes through the swinging doors. The scene that greets us is both hilarious and terrifying, with Maren brandishing a tranquilizer injection pole at Cade, the long aluminum rod extended to its full six-foot length.
He stands with arms crossed over his broad chest, one eyebrow raised, unfazed by the needle-tipped weapon hovering inches from his throat.
“Come on, old man, give me a reason.”
“Maren.”
Luna’s voice breaks the standoff. Maren wheels around, dropping the pole to her side.
“Oh, thank God. Get this walking red flag out of my sight.”
I bite back a laugh. She's not wrong. Cade is an absolute red flag for most women.
“Where’s Ricky?”
“He’s on the sofa in your office, playing with his monkey. Don’t worry, he has a diaper on.”
“Come on, let’s go see him. How bad was it?”
They head toward Luna’s office, and I turn to Cade. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you just call? Or better yet, why didn’t you bring the helicopter back?”
“I did. It’s on the helipad in your backyard.”
“How did I not hear you arrive? And isn’t that your car outside?”
“No, that’s your Tahoe.” His expression is carefully neutral, but I catch the hint of amusement in his eyes. “And you were a little busy when I arrived.”
“That doesn’t answer my question. Why are you here? At the sanctuary?”
“Wanted to make sure there were no loose ends to tie up.”
His presence today has nothing to do with the loose ends related to Caleb Hunter’s death. He’s here for Maren.
“Any word?” I keep my voice low, mindful that she might still be close enough to hear.
“Yes. Boulder police discovered evidence linking Hunter to several unsolved murders. Sheriff Mills got the call at nine twenty-one this morning. Since Boulder’s outside her jurisdiction, their locals are taking point.”
“And the neighbor situation?”
Cade gives me a withering look. Hunter’s eighty-five-year-old neighbor had exited his apartment to walk his dog just as Cade was finishing the staging of Caleb’s place, minutes before sunrise.
The job had taken longer than planned. The building's security cameras and what Cade found inside the apartment had complicated things.
“Handled. According to the old man’s statement, he saw Caleb exit his apartment carrying a duffle bag. Limping. Hoodie on.”
I hold his stare, searching for any hint of doubt, then nod once. “You’re the master, Cade. But you’re absolutely sure this never comes back to Luna? I don’t give a fuck what happens to me. Just not her.”
“You’re both safe.”
Luna emerges from her office, carrying a diaper-clad raccoon waving a stuffed monkey in front of him. His other paw rests on her right breast. I sigh. He and I are going to have to have a talk.
Maren trails after them, and when she spots Cade, she scowls. “Why is he still here?”
The air between them crackles with an electricity neither of them will acknowledge.
“I’m just going to give Ricky a quick bath, and then I’ll head into the house to fix us some lunch.”
“I’d be happy to make lunch.” Cade’s offer lands in the space between them like a grenade.
Luna and Maren stare at him like he’s just announced he’s taking up interpretive dance. I don’t. I’ve tasted his cooking. The man can turn basic ingredients into something that belongs in a restaurant.
“You obviously have your hands full, and I’m more than happy to whip something up for all of us.”
He moves toward the door without waiting for permission or protest. Luna’s gaze finds mine again, questions written across her face. Maren’s eyes burn holes in Cade’s back as he disappears through the doorway.
“He’ll probably poison us.” Maren holds her hands out to Luna. “Here, let me give Ricky his bath. Go make sure he doesn’t put arsenic in whatever he’s going to ‘whip up.’”
She takes Ricky and stomps through the doors leading to the bathing area, her footsteps heavy enough to echo on the tile.
Luna turns to me. “There goes my grilled cheese and soup. Can I trust him in my kitchen?”
“Cade is a certified master chef. He trained at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “You’re really going to have to give me his story sometime.”
“No can do. Cade’s story is his own to tell.”
The front door chime rings. Fuck! What now? I follow Luna to the lobby. Sheriff Mills stands just inside the entrance, her expression serious.
“Hi, Karen.” Luna keeps her voice light. But her body tells a different story, the way she angles herself toward me, closing the gap between us. “What brings you by?”
Karen removes her hat, running a hand through her hair. “Came to update you on the Caleb Hunter situation. Got some news from Boulder PD this morning.”
Luna tenses beside me, and I wrap my arm around her waist. I love being able to touch her in the daylight.
“They found some pretty disturbing stuff, Luna. Place was a mess. Looks like your ex was deeper into drugs than anyone realized. Cocaine, mainly. They also found evidence linking him to the bodies dumped here and in the park.”
Luna’s breath catches, the sound sharp in the small room. It’s not an act. The color drains from her cheeks, and her fingers grip my waist. Discomfort radiates from every line of her body.
Guilt.
Despite everything she said this morning about accepting what we did, words are easier than living with the weight of it. The reality of framing a dead man, of manufacturing evidence, of becoming complicit in a crime—that’s going to take time to settle into her bones. If it ever does.
“Looks like he was trying to set you up.” Karen’s gaze moves between us, measuring our reactions.
“Best they can figure, he was killing them to frame you for the murders.” She pauses.
“And it gets worse. Found journals, plans… looks like he was planning something real nasty as his grand finale. We think your showing up when you did, Damien, saved Luna’s life. ”