Page 23

Chapter Twenty-Two

Nate

I hated Malcom Johnson. I don’t think I’d ever hated anyone more, although Willie Slater probably eked Malcom out of the number one position. It was a dubious race either way.

Perry was so cold. He barely moved when I picked him up and carried him to the bedroom. The electricity was holding on, and the fans in the bedroom stirred the hot, humid air. We’d barely used the sheets on the bed over the last few nights. I pulled out a blanket from a storage closet and covered Perry’s chilled body before crawling in beside him.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, unsure if my words could even be heard over the brutal pounding the storm had unleashed. The rain on the roof was near deafening. The lack of hail was a small relief. “It’s going to be okay,” I promised, praying I could make good on those words.

We lay there, letting the storm pass us by, another one swiftly following suit. My phone pinged with weather alerts, warning us to stay indoors and that lightning strikes were within a mile of our current location. I rolled my eyes, wondering why I needed an alert to tell me what was obvious.

The minutes turned into hours. I drifted in and out of sleep. Perry’s even breaths and calm heartbeat told me he was asleep also. It had been a hell of a day. He needed the rest. I just wished when he woke, I could claim it had all been a bad dream. I had no idea if Perry’s brain had been able to fully process all the lies he’d been told. Perry was intelligent, but his mind had been traumatized to the point of rewiring itself. I had no idea what those connections would make of the mess I’d unloaded on him.

Carding my fingers through his tangled hair, I marveled at the man lying beside me, wondering how I’d lived without him and knowing I’d move heaven and hell to keep him safe and alive. If something took Perry from me, I’d find a way to keep going, but I had no illusions as to the type of man his loss would turn me into.

Something crashed in the distance, sending my heart racing. Going up on an elbow, I was just turning to grab my gun from under the bed when I realized what that sound had been—a tree falling. The wind was that bad.

Snuggling back down, I realized Perry hadn’t so much as stirred. I kissed his forehead while trailing my fingers along the Florida-shaped scar covering the side of his head. My chest was heavy, and my thoughts cloudy. My judgment was becoming increasingly impaired by my growing fear. I couldn’t keep Perry safe like this. I needed help.

Reluctantly letting Perry go, I slid my legs over the edge of the bed, grabbed my phone, and headed for the living room and kitchen area. Our latest storm had weakened some, the sound of rain on the roof not as deafening. Unlocking my phone, I was relieved to see I still had service. If the storms knocked out a local tower, then all bets were off.

Nat answered quickly, a brief “Harmon,” her preferred greeting.

Throat thick, I said, “I need you here.”

The pause was as short as her answer. “I’m on my way.”

I didn’t even get a chance to say “Thank you” or “Be careful” before Nat ended the call. My partner would be here soon. I had no idea if she’d bring Barrington with her. I gave it fifty-fifty odds. If he wasn’t in the passenger’s seat, then he’d probably drive his own vehicle now or later.

Heavily sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, I propped my elbow on the table and dropped my head in my fisted hand. I’d hated making that call nearly as much as I’d needed to make it. Somehow, I needed to hold out until my partner got here. Perry and I would stay hunkered down in our cabin. The storms would pass us by, and soon enough, the sun would shine again. Somehow, it always did.

I was still sitting on that kitchen chair when someone pounded on the door. I glanced quickly back at the bedroom. I’d left the door cracked. The knocking hadn’t woken Perry.

Pushing out of the chair was harder than it should have been. My limbs were heavy with stress and fatigue. There was a window in the door, and when I glanced out into the gloom, Delia was standing on the other side. I didn’t hesitate to open the door.

Even with her raincoat on, Delia was soaked to the bone. Her coat dripped on the old wooden floors of the cabin, creating a puddle where she stood. Without a word, I headed to the bathroom and grabbed a couple of towels. I threw one on the floor, and the other one I tossed in Delia’s direction. She easily caught it. Pushing her hood down, she ran the towel over her head and face before wiping her hands and ending with her exposed legs.

“Thank you,” Delia offered before tossing the towel on the ground to help its terrycloth brethren. Delia’s troubled eyes glanced around the cabin.

Knowing who she was looking for, I said, “He’s in the bedroom, sleeping.”

Delia gave a knowing nod. Her expression was a mask of apathy, but her eyes narrowed with worry. “How is he?”

“Perry?”

“Of course.” It was the first time I’d ever heard Delia snappish.

“Physically, he’s fine. The cuts on his leg are shallow. As long as infection doesn’t set in, they should heal well. I don’t even think they’ll scar.” Cleaning Perry’s wounds had been a relief.

“I’m glad. It could have been worse.”

I kept my scoff under wraps and answered with a clipped, “Yes. It could.”

Delia’s gaze flicked my way before she stared at something in the distance. “Lydia Schroder is missing.” Delia threw it out there without fanfare and with precious little inflection.

“Missing?” I leaned against a nearby loveseat, allowing the couch to support my weight.

Delia’s apathetic mask cracked. Lips pulled into a deep frown, Delia appeared more irritated than concerned. “We’ve searched the area. Gabe found a pool of blood by the ladies’ room. It wasn’t enough to believe that Dr. Schroder is dead. However, it is concerning.”

“ Concerning? Is that all?” I asked with more than a touch of disbelief.

Delia waved off my sarcasm. “Malcom believes she is still alive.”

“And what do you believe?”

My question earned me a calculating look. “I agree.”

“But? I sense a but in there.”

Delia huffed. “ But I am concerned regarding her condition and just how long she will stay alive. I am also concerned about what Lydia will go through in the meantime.”

“Torture,” I guessed.

With a nod, Delia agreed. “Willie likes to play with his food.” Her twisted grin told me exactly what Delia thought of that.

“And you don’t?” I had no idea what kind of assassin Delia Carpenter was. I’d seen what she’d put Martin Velmont through. While I didn’t disagree that the young man needed a lesson, Delia had beaten him to within an inch of his life and scared the shit out of Marty at the same time. Last I’d heard, they’d removed the wire from his jaw, and he could eat solid food again.

Wicked grin twisting her lips, Delia emotionlessly stated, “Certain occasions call for it, but as a general rule, no, I do not. I don’t like messy, and Willie’s meals tend to get very, very messy.”

I’d also seen Willie’s kills firsthand. I hadn’t known Willie was Vincent Fagan’s killer when I’d found him alongside Perry’s beaten body. I did now and remembered the state of Vincent’s body. I was also very familiar with the painful death Gabriella Sanchez had suffered along with the body dump scene. Willie had gone to a lot of effort to make Gabriella’s crime scene morbidly unforgettable—pig’s blood and all.

The cabin echoed with the sound of my stubble as I scratched my chin. I’d shaved that morning and could use another. I was not motivated to do so.

Stuffing my hands in my shorts’ pockets, I asked, “How are you going to find her? Does Dr. Schroder have a tracking device?”

“She did.”

“ Did? As in past tense?”

“Correct.”

“Was it in her bracelet?” I stared down at my own blue plastic strap.

“Of course not. Maverick Insurance wouldn’t be so careless with our insurance agents.” Delia gave me a withering look. “Really, Detective, I expected a little more from you.”

Far from offended, I shrugged off the comment. “You’ll have to forgive me; I’ve got more pressing concerns currently taking up rent in my head.” I nodded towards the bedroom to indicate my fiancé.

“Forgiven,” Delia softly replied, her gaze tracking toward the bedroom door also. “Did you tell him?”

“I did,” I answered, not needing to ask what Delia was referring to.

“How did he take it?” Delia’s voice remained soft, as if she were afraid of the answer.

I mulled that over, unsure how to respond, mostly because I wasn’t completely sure yet. Going for honesty, I answered, “He believed me. He’d started noticing things that didn’t exactly add up, but he couldn’t make sense of them. Beyond that, he was hurt but…” I trailed off, completely unsure what to say.

“Does he hate me?” Delia hesitantly asked.

I shook my head. “Beyond Willie Slater, I don’t think Perry’s capable of hate. I think he’s still processing. It’s a lot, Delia, and you can’t push him on this. Perry’s brain is fragile. It—”

“I would never do anything to harm him,” Delia defended.

With a slow nod, I answered, “I know that.” When she gave me a skeptical, disbelieving look, I said, “I mean it. I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass.”

Delia’s lips quirked, fighting off a smile. “That is lovely to know.”

Rolling my eyes, I rose from my leaning position. “I’ll be honest. I don’t know what to do with you, Delia. I’ve placed you in so many boxes in my head that the room is too crowded to make sense of. I know you care about Perry, that you’ll do whatever you can to protect him. I know you’re fond of Gayle and don’t want to see her hurt. I know you beat the shit out of Marty Velmont to prove a point and to keep him away from Perry. I know you’re deadly. I know you can take care of yourself. I suspect you had a shitty upbringing and that you use that as fuel for your current profession. Those are all the things I do know.” Taking a step forward, I said, “What I don’t know is what to make of all of that. I don’t know whether I should arrest you or cheer you on. I don’t know what your friendship will eventually do to Perry, and that scares me more than the knowledge that you could probably sneak in and murder me in my sleep, and I wouldn’t feel the blade until I was bleeding all over my sheets.”

Delia’s smirk turned into a full grin. Closing the distance between us, she patted my cheek, and I counted it a win that I didn’t flinch.

“You are a true delight, Detective Harmon. I am immensely pleased Perry has you by his side, and after everything you’ve just said, I believe you know just how fortunate that is. For you.”

My grunt was more of a laugh. “Oh, believe me, I’m aware.”

Taking a step away, Delia dropped her hand and said, “You would be surprised how dense humans can be.”

This time, I did grunt. “I’ve worked homicide for the last three years. Trust me, I know how fucking stupid people can be.”

“I suppose that is true.” Delia sighed while looking down at her soaked clothing. “I don’t understand why anyone enjoys being clothed and wet. Water rides have always been a mystery to me.”

Unsure what to say, I simply stood there, blinking at the change in topic.

Pulling her raincoat away from her body, Delia shook it, scattering tiny drops of water onto the towels pooled at her feet. Still staring at her soaked feet, Delia said, “I wanted to stop by and see how Perry was doing but also give you an update on Lydia. Malcom is very displeased by this turn of events. As to your earlier question, all Maverick employees are implanted with tracking chips. Should something go awry during one of our negotiations , it is a good way to recover our wayward agent. However, Lydia’s tracking chip seems to have malfunctioned.”

“Or was ripped out and destroyed,” I said, thinking of the blood found outside the ladies’ restroom.

“Very possible. Employees are chipped in different locations, so not everyone’s tracking device is located in the same area. Unfortunately, it is a simple matter to find the chip and remove it if one has the correct equipment and desire.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m assuming Willie’s chip met a similar fate.”

“You would not be wrong.” Delia’s smile was brittle. “It is terribly inconvenient.”

“Do all Maverick Insurance agents have the same knack for understatement?”

“We are trained to dissipate heated situations,” Delia happily answered.

A new thought struck me, and I asked, “Does Perry have—”

“No. Perry isn’t an agent with the company, and at the time, Malcom didn’t see the need. Given our current enemy, I doubt the tracker would do much good, even if he had one placed. Willie would simply remove and destroy it as he did his own and most likely Lydia’s.”

I was actually relieved. Current situation aside, I didn’t like the idea of Malcom, or anyone associated with Maverick Insurance, being able to track Perry down on a whim.

Placing her hood back over her head, Delia turned and headed for the door. Hand on the knob, she turned and said, “I have a suspicion Willie will use Lydia’s absence to taunt us all. Malcom plans on keeping her possible abduction quiet, at least for now. Only the two of you, myself, and Gabe know our true concerns.”

“Is that wise? What if Willie comes after others?”

“Everyone employed by Maverick Insurance is aware of the possible consequences of their employment. Do not concern yourself with the agents. Focus your attention on Perry. Good evening, Detective.”

Delia exited the cabin, walking out into the lingering rain. Spots of sunshine filtered through, heating the air and guaranteeing more bad weather.

I was standing there, door open and staring through the screen mesh, when Perry’s voice came from behind. “Do you believe her?”

Shutting the door, I turned and found Perry leaning against the bedroom doorframe. His hair was a tangled mess, and violet crescent moons stood out against his pallid facial skin. His right thigh glistened with the antibiotic ointment I’d slathered on a few hours ago.

When I didn’t answer immediately, Perry clarified, “Do you believe she truly cares about what happens to me?”

“I do,” I answered easily.

“Why?” A small frown creased his forehead.

“No one is that good of an actor. Besides, actions speak louder than words and Delia’s actions have spoken very loudly.” I closed the distance between us and ran my fingers up and down Perry’s arms. I wasn’t sure how much of the conversation he’d heard. His next question let me know it had been most, if not all.

“Was she really the one that beat the shit out of Marty Velmont?”

“She was. I didn’t know it at the time. Nat and I figured it out later, and so far, Delia hasn’t denied it. In fact, I’d say she’s rather proud of her actions.” Honestly, I was surprised Delia hadn’t killed the man.

Head hung, Perry said, “I don’t know what to do with that. What she did was wrong. I should be upset. But…”

“But you’re not?” I questioned while bending low enough to look into his eyes.

“No. I am, just…maybe not as much as I should be. Maybe I’m more like my father than I—”

“Hey, none of that. Don’t second-guess your childhood memories. I know it’s a lot to take in, a lot to process and move through. But don’t cheapen what you meant to your mom and dad.”

Perry blew out a heavy breath. “You’re right, it’s just… I’m his son, Nate. Dad’s DNA makes up half of who I am. What if I inherited the part of him that could…” Perry waved a hand in the air as if he couldn’t summon the words needed.

Threading my fingers into his tangled hair, I brought our foreheads together, sharing our breath. “I will repeat this as many times as you need to hear it. You are the most giving, loving, kindest man I have ever known. Could you kill someone? I don’t know. I think all of us are capable of it, given the right circumstances. I’ve killed before.”

“To protect people,” Perry insisted.

“Yes, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I’ve taken lives before. I won’t lie; the first life I took really messed me up. Could I do what Malcom and Delia do? No. Not if I am to stay any type of sane. I don’t know how their minds work, how they cope with the deed or justify the reasoning or results. Everybody’s mental makeup is different. Morality is a difficult word to pin down and define, and there’s a reason for that. I get the feeling Delia, Malcom, and Gabe have no trouble going to sleep when their heads hit the pillow.”

Perry’s shoulders remained slumped. “How am I going to tell Gayle? Do I tell Gayle?” Perry’s wide, deeply troubled eyes stared up at me through a haze of dark brown hair. “This is exactly what you went through, isn’t it?”

Pulling away, I kept my hands on Perry’s arms. “To an extent.”

I was forced to drop my hands when Perry placed more distance between us. Scrubbing his face, he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the disheveled lochs behind his ears. “Gayle is my best friend, and I’ve known her for years, and I still don’t know what her reaction will be.”

“It’s not a decision you have to make right away.”

Perry gave a weak sigh before wrapping his arms around his chest. “So, Dr. Schroder, she’s really missing?”

“Looks that way.”

“Fuck. I mean, she’s not my favorite, but that doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to her. And if Willie’s got her, then—”

“Nothing good can come of that.”

“No,” Perry agreed easily. “And Malcom’s keeping hush-hush about it.” Head lifting, Perry asked, “Do you think we should call the police? Malcom’s certainly not going to.”

I sat heavily back in the kitchen chair. “I’m not sure, but I really don’t think there’s much more they can do.” I’d been debating the pros and cons of that action since Delia told me Dr. Schroder was truly missing.

“They could evacuate the park,” Perry said, concern cracking his voice. “What if Willie goes after others that have nothing to do with his vendetta?”

I’d considered that too and answered, “Willie could have done that anytime. He could murder civilians just for the hell of it. Maybe he already has. None of us truly know because no one can find the asshole.” My growing frustration leaked through. “How in the hell is this guy evading everyone?” Was I wrong in believing that Malcom’s group of murderous insurance agents could handle one of their own better than legal channels?

Perry shook his head as he sat down next to me. “I don’t know. It’s like he’s a ghost drifting in and out of our lives on a whim. Just when you think he might have found another location to haunt, he pops back up like a violent poltergeist.”

I pondered the analogy and found I liked it. “Back to contacting the local PD… It’s not the same, but I called Nat and asked her to come here.” I sounded sheepish even to my own ears.

“Oh, I… I don’t really blame you, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not relieved. That said, I don’t want to put her in any more danger than necessary.” Chewing on his bottom lip, Perry twisted his hands together, eyes laser focused on his lap. “I can’t stand the thought of something happening to her because of me.”

Unwilling to maintain even the slim distance between us, I slid my chair until it bumped Perry’s. Thigh to thigh, I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and welcomed the feel of his head leaning against my chest. “I want you to listen and listen well. If anything happens to me, Nat, or anyone else, it won’t be your fault.”

“But if it—”

“No buts.” I strengthened my hold on Perry when he attempted to pull away. “This is all on Willie. Each of us has made our own choices. Nat and I made ours when we joined the police academy. We made another choice when we took the detective’s exam and joined homicide. We’ve always known the risks and been willing to tempt fate. Asking either one of us to sit this out is like asking a fish not to swim or asking Starbuck and Apollo not to scream for their canned food. It’s damn near instinct. Personally, I’d rather spend my energy fighting Willie Slater than my own nature.”

Perry’s hand joined his head on my chest, and I welcomed the extra weight. “I don’t know how I deserve you.”

“That’s my line,” I said before planting a kiss on Perry’s disheveled hair. “I couldn’t fathom being anywhere else.”

Perry released a heavy breath. “I still don’t know how to tell Gayle.”

I gave that few seconds to sink in before asking, “So, you’ve decided to tell her?”

“I have to,” Perry answered grimly. “It’s what best friends do.”

“Tell the truth?” I asked.

“Yeah. Even when we know it will hurt.”

I cradled his head, pressing it to my chest. Maybe I should have told Perry sooner. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him at all. Was it wrong that I felt guilty regarding the relief telling him had offered me? I didn’t know the answer to that either. All I knew were my own feelings, which were as mixed up as ever. One thing remained crystal clear, though. The man cradled next to my body meant the world to me. Hell, he meant the whole damn universe. I would fight as dirty as I needed to secure as many years as I could get with this man. I didn’t know if Willie Slater understood that or not. If not, then he was damn sure gonna find out.