Deadly Obsession (A Brown and de Luca Novel Book 4) (16 page)

He reached across the table, grabbed me by the front of my shirt and pulled until I met him in the middle, where he kissed my mouth. Then he let go and said, “You’re brilliant. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Well, duh.”

He smiled at me. That told me I really had given him hope, which was what I’d been going for. And then we spent the rest of the night driving around, first creating our perimeter and then searching inside it.

At least it gave us something to do.

12

J
eremy stayed awake. It wasn’t hard, because he was half afraid his mother would murder him if he fell asleep. So he stayed awake and hugged his kid brother, and he hoped he was going to live long enough to graduate from high school. He realized as he lay there that he didn’t just hope it for his own sake. He hoped it more for Josh’s sake. The poor kid had lost his father and his baby sister to death, and his mother to this terrifying monster that had taken her place. He couldn’t handle losing his big brother, too. Everyone else would be okay. Uncle Mason would be devastated, yeah, but he would recover, because he had Rachel. She could get him through anything. Jeremy thought she would be pretty broken up by his death, too. She was a part of their family now. He hadn’t given it much thought before now, but he guessed he kind of loved her. She would survive it, too, though. She would be strong for Uncle Mason and for Josh. She would be okay.

But Josh... Josh was just a kid. He couldn’t take another hit so soon. It would do him in.

Eventually the steady, even sound of her breathing told him that his mother was asleep on a worn-out old couch by the door. She even snored every few breaths, which meant she was really deeply asleep, right?

He thought so, and he nudged his brother. “You awake, Josh?” he whispered, close to his ear.

“Yeah.”

“We have to activate plan B. You remember what I told you? That you might have to go on your own?”

The kid nodded. “But I don’t want to leave you.”

“You have to. You’re the only one who can save us.”

Their mother rolled over, and they went dead still and silent. But soon the soft breathing started up again. Jeremy waited a full minute to make sure she was sound asleep and not faking them out. Then he spoke even more softly. “Get the flashlight out of the shed. Stay off the road, but follow it. All the way to the end, then go right.” He gripped his brother’s right hand, just in case he had any question about which way that was.
“Right,”
he repeated, just in case the kid got mixed up. He was already so scared he barely knew down from up. “Another hour and a half, then go left. Then the first right, then left at the fork. End, right, hour and a half, left, first right, fork left. Got it?”

“It’ll take you a couple of hours to get to that village we passed on the way in. You got it?”

Joshua nodded firmly, then sat up, quiet as a mouse.

“Are you sure, Josh? There are like five places where there are turns in the road. You take any of those, you’ll be lost. Have you got it for sure?”

“I’ve got it.”

“All right. We’ve got to be quiet.” Jeremy got out of bed at a snail’s pace, picked up Joshua’s shoes off the floor. He’d taken note of where they were before his mother had blown out the lamp. As Josh followed, Jeremy walked through the cabin to the bathroom in the very back, which was more like an attached outhouse. There was a window in there. He’d scoped it out earlier. They crowded into the tiny room, and Jeremy closed the door softly. “Here, put these on, but be quiet,” he whispered, pushing the shoes into Joshua’s hands.

Josh sat on the closed toilet seat and put them on, barely making a sound while Jeremy was opening the little window. There was no screen in the way, but the opening was awfully small. He wasn’t listening for his mother anymore. There was no point. They were committed, and there was no turning back now. Josh was getting out of here.

“Come here, buddy.”

Josh hesitated. “Why can’t you just come with me?”

“Because if we’re both gone, she’ll come after us. But if I stay behind, I can distract her. I can keep her from going after you and give you time to get help. It’s the best chance for both of us.”

“How are you gonna do that, Jere? How can you keep her from—”

“Don’t even worry about it. Just trust me, okay?” He didn’t want to think about
how
, but he knew he could keep his hundred-and-one-pound mother in check if he had to. He was practically a grown man, almost as big as Uncle Mason.

He picked his brother up, giving him no more time to argue. The kid was heavy. Josh stuck his feet out the window, and Jeremy continued to hold him while he wriggled his body through, then lowered him until he couldn’t reach any farther. Before he let him go, he said, “You’re a pretty awesome brother, kid. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

“You too,” Joshua said, and it sounded like there were tears in his voice. Jeremy couldn’t handle that, so he let him go. His eyes were adjusting a little, and he could see Josh land, then scramble to his feet. He waved once, then turned and headed toward the shed, around the cabin and out of sight.

Jeremy closed the window carefully, then he opened the bathroom door and tiptoed back into the main part of the cabin.

“What are you doing up?”

His mother was a dark silhouette sitting upright on the ratty sofa. Jeremy’s eyes darted to his own rumpled cot. The covers made a lump where Josh should be, sort of. He got back in fast. “Shh. Don’t wake Josh,” he said softly. “I just had to pee.”

“Oh.” She spoke much more softly then. “Okay, then. Good night.”

“Night, Mom.” He tugged the pillow underneath the blankets, spooning with it as if it were his kid brother, closing his eyes, and praying with everything in him that Joshua would find his way, fast and safe, and send help.

He also wished for his phone, so he could tell what time it was. He lay in the bed for what felt like a long, long time. Maybe an hour. Maybe two or three. It was impossible to tell. But it was still dark when his mother came over, aiming a flashlight beam at his face.

“Where is he?” she demanded. “Where is your brother?”

Jeremy jumped off the mattress and stood close to her. “Mom, you’ve gotta listen to me.”

“Where is your brother?” She aimed her light around the cabin.

“You’re not right, Mom. I know it’s not your fault, but you’re sick. Josh wasn’t safe here with you. You told me to take care of him. That’s what I did.”

“No. No, dammit! You don’t understand!” She slammed him in the chest with both hands so he fell back onto the cot, and then she was surging toward the front door and through it, aiming her light high and low, shouting Joshua’s name.

Jeremy ran out behind her. “He’s gone, Mom. He’s long gone. It’s no use. He’s probably already found help out there.”

“No. No he can’t! It’s not
safe
! Out there all alone. In the dark, in the woods! He’s just a baby! God, Jeremy, what have you done?” She headed to the car and got in, starting it up, still in the nurse’s scrubs she’d worn yesterday. She’d kept the keys in one of the big pockets. “Come on!” she shouted at him, her door still open.

Not yet. Not yet, he thought. He couldn’t be sure enough time had passed. Josh might not have made it far enough. Jeremy sat down on the top step. “No. I’m sorry, Mom, but...no.”

“We have to get to your brother. Jeremy, his
life
is in
danger.
”

“Then call Uncle Mason and tell him where we are.”

“I can’t do that!” She got out of the car and ran to him, grabbed his shoulders and shouted in his face, “Jeremy, he’s in danger! She’ll find him.”

“The demon?” he asked, averting his face from her morning breath.

“Yes.”

“Mom, there are no demons.”

“Oh, baby, you don’t even know.” She let go of him, lowered her head. “Your own father was one of them. But I loved him. I should’ve stopped him, but I loved him.”

Jeremy got a cold chill down his spine. It made him shiver so hard he had to stand up. He wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but there was something inside him, something way down deep, warning him that he didn’t really want to poke at this particular dark hole.

And then it was too late, because his mother had him by the arm, tugging him toward the car. “We’re going after him. We’re going after Joshua.”

“No we’re not.” He pulled free, but she grabbed him again. It occurred to him that he was bigger than her, stronger than her, and saner than her. It shouldn’t be this hard. He could just overpower her and tie her up. He could punch her in the face and knock her on her ass, throw her into the back of the car and drive them both to the nearest police station.

Except that she was his mother. And he didn’t want to hit his own mother. There was a part of him, too, that was afraid of what she would do if he tried. Because he couldn’t hurt her, not really. He could never bring himself to.

She
could hurt
him
, though. And after last night, he didn’t think the part of her that wouldn’t harm her own son was still in charge.

So what was he going to do? He kept pulling free, and she kept grabbing his arm again, dragging him closer to the car every time. She finally managed to get him to the passenger door, and she opened it, tried to shove him inside. He pulled away, slammed the door shut. “We’re
not
going after Joshua!” he shouted.

“Yes. We. Are!” she shouted back, and wrenched the door open again. She gripped a handful of his hair and part of his ear, as well, and pushed with all her might. She was freakishly strong, especially considering how thin she was. He couldn’t get free of her without hurting her. She shoved his head into the car, and he saw the keys in the ignition and let himself be pushed into the seat, even pulled his feet in on his own.

She slammed the car door, breathless, panting, and raced around the front of the car to get into the driver’s side. Before she got her door open, Jeremy yanked the keys free and jumped out on his side. He ran for all he was worth, aware she was on his heels, and then he drew back and threw the keys into the woods.

His mother came to a stumbling stop beside him. “Oh, God, Jeremy, no! No!” Then she went charging into the woods in the direction he’d pitched the keys.

There. That would do it, he thought. It would take an hour, at least, to find those keys. And he wasn’t going to help her. He went back to the shed and flipped the switch to turn the power in the cabin back on, and then he called, “I’m making us some coffee, Mom. You might as well come in and get some.”

He went into the cabin, expecting her to give up and follow.

He was running water into the coffeepot when he heard the car start up, dropped the pot and ran.

* * *

Gretchen showed up at Rachel de Luca’s home before 8:00 a.m. She knew she probably should have waited a little longer to be believable, but she was impatient. She knew where the
famous author
lived. She’d scoped it out. The pretentious wrought-iron gate was closed. It had been open every other time she’d come by. Probably Rachel and Mason were afraid Marie was going to come after them now that she’d supposedly murdered Mason’s nephews. Gretchen smiled slowly and looked for a bell to ring or a button to push or whatever. But there wasn’t one. Apparently Rachel was famous enough for a gated home but not enough for an intercom.

But wait, a pair of blonde teenage girls was coming down the long paved driveway toward her, the two pain-in-the-ass dogs trotting along beside them. She’d intended for both mutts to burn with the house. She’d intended for Mason to have nothing and no one left to turn to—except for her—by the time she was finished. And that was why she was here: to remove Rachel from the equation, as well. And since it was only a matter of time before Marie was caught and stuck back in her padded cell, time was of the essence. Rachel had to die, and Marie had to be blamed. Period.

And then there would be no more barriers between herself and Mason.

The blondes stopped at the gate. They were almost identical, except that one of them had a curvier shape and had been crying so much that her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. The other one was stick thin and bitchy-looking.

Gretchen plastered a worried look on her face, and said, “I’ve just come from Mason’s house and it’s...it’s just gone. What in the world happened? Where is he? Is he...?”

The old blind bulldog started growling.

“He’s fine. He wasn’t home when it happened,” the weepy one said. “It’s the boys we’re—”

The skinny one clamped a viselike hand on her sister’s arm. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

“Gretchen Young. I’m Mason’s nurse.”

Bitchy lifted her pale, perfectly arched brows. “His
nurse
?”

Weepy put a hand on her shoulder. “For the burns on his arm. I know about her, it’s okay.” She reached for the gate and started to pull it open. The older bulldog started barking like mad. A short, snuffly sound more like a series of powerful sneezes than an actual dog sound. “It’s all right, Myrtle. Calm down, okay? You can go ahead and drive your car in, Ms. Young. My folks are inside, they can fill you in.”

“I just...wait, Mason’s not here?”

“No. He and Rachel are out looking for the boys.”

Gretchen didn’t move to get back into her car. She just stood there by the partially open gate, looking from the weepy girl to the still growling dog. The little puppy was growling now, too, looking at the big dog as if for approval, then growling, then looking at her again. Mimicking her.

“What do you mean, out looking for the boys? I thought... I mean, if they were home when that fire happened, then... I mean, how could they have survived?”

“We don’t know how, but they did. It looks as if—”

“Jeez, Misty, why don’t you show her where Aunt Rache keeps the silver while you’re at it?” The skinny sister pushed the gate closed again. “Look, I’m sorry, lady, but I don’t know you from Adam. When Mason gets back I’ll tell him you came by. He can decide what he wants you to know and what he doesn’t. All right?”

“He would want me to know about the boys,” Gretchen said, trembling in the effort to hold her temper.

“Then he’ll tell you himself. See ya.”

“Christy—”

“Uh-uh. No way.” Bitchy flipped a lock from the inside of the gate, gripped her sister’s arm and firmly turned her around to start hoofing it back toward the house. Their two blond heads leaned close, and they whispered as they went. The dogs trotted along beside them, and the weepy twin looked back with an apologetic shrug.

Gretchen narrowed her eyes. Something was going on.