Meeting Danger (Danger #1) (13 page)

His thoughts were interrupted as Grayson came into the room. Autumn quickly excused herself and slipped out.

Camden frowned when Grayson began pacing the room. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Grayson stopped suddenly and jammed his hands inside his pockets. “Actually, no. My mother called. She’s having some tests.”

“Tests? For what?”

Camden sat up straighter. Eleanor Matthews had been like a second mother to him, especially after his own parents moved to Florida. She’d lived alone in Scranton ever since she was widowed when Grayson was just a toddler. Now in her late fifties and an avid traveler, she spoiled him and Grayson with home-cooked meals every time she visited DC.

“Not sure. But she hasn’t been feeling well lately.”

“She’s having the tests done at a hospital?”

“Yeah, in Philadelphia. Will you be all right if I go?”

Camden tamped down his rising concern. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not a long drive back. Just call if you need me.” Grayson stepped into the hallway. “Autumn?”

She walked back down the hall from the guest room. “Yes?”

“I need to visit my mother for a few days. Will you be able to help Camden alone?”

Autumn eyed Camden for a moment before nodding. “Of course.”

Camden shook his head.
Why are they talking about me as if I’m a five-year-old?

“We’ll be fine, Gray. Just tell your mom I hope she feels better.”

When Camden got out of bed the next day, he noticed a significant improvement in his ribs. He could now walk without holding his abdomen, and a shower seemed within the realm of possibility.

As he waited for the water to warm, he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His hair was practically shoulder length now, and his beard was looking a little rough. But grooming would have to wait a little longer; he still wasn’t up for a trip to town.

He went through the motions of bathing and then took a long minute to stand under the luxuriously hot spray. What kind of day would he and Autumn have?

She was in the kitchen when he walked downstairs.

“Morning.” When she startled slightly at his greeting, he chuckled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

The surprise cleared from her face. “You didn’t. Are you hungry?” As she moved toward the stove, she said over her shoulder, “It’s oatmeal again. Hope that’s okay.”

He smiled when she brought over a bowl. She’d added chopped nuts and fruit this time, along with a little cinnamon. “Fancy.”

She shrugged. “Thought I’d change it up a little.”

As her dimple flashed, Camden caught his breath. The more relaxed she was, the more stunning she became.

“You’re eating with me, right?”

Giving him a nod, she reached into the cabinet for another bowl. “Did your grandmother like to bake?”

Camden looked toward the pantry. “You must have seen her baking supplies. She was known as the pie lady around here.”

Autumn grinned. “Really?”

Camden nodded. “The town has a festival every July. She was a blue-ribbon winner almost every year she entered.”

“That’s amazing.”

As Autumn brought her bowl to the table, Camden debated. The questions he needed to ask her weren’t going to wait forever, and he knew from Grayson that Eli was getting antsy.

Autumn had settled in well these past days, and seemed relaxed now. His mind made up, he cleared his throat.

“I want to ask you a few questions about the club, but first I want to give you a chance to ask me anything you need to.”

For long seconds, she remained silent, her attention fixed on her bowl as she stirred the oatmeal, but he knew she had to have questions.

Come on, angel. You can trust me.

Finally, she wet her lips. “My brother . . . Do you think you can help me find him?”

Camden mentally chastised himself. This was important to her, and he should have had someone looking into it already.

“I’m going to work on it today.” He pulled over the pad of paper and pencil that were lying on the table. “What’s your brother’s name?”

“Wade Mason.”

“How old is he?”

“Five years older than me, so about twenty-seven.”

“What’s his exact birthdate?”

Autumn shifted in her seat and looked away. “I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I don’t know. I think it’s in May, but we never celebrated birthdays after my mother died.”

Camden tried to mask his surprise. “Do you know your own?” Grayson hadn’t mentioned anything, and he’d been the one searching for her Social Security number.

“I only know it’s in January and that I’m twenty-two.”

He nodded. “You said you haven’t spoken to your brother in years?”

“No. Not for as long as I’ve been with Butch.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Butch didn’t want me calling him.”

Camden clenched his teeth as he stifled a sigh. That statement alone confirmed the type of relationship he’d suspected she’d had with Cobb. And from the sound of it, her earlier years hadn’t been much better.

He drew in a breath. “Your brother never called you?”

“No, but Butch and I moved a year after I started living with him.” She said the words quickly, as if trying to defend her brother. “He probably tried, but I wasn’t where he’d left me.”

Camden needed to satisfy his curiosity about something else. “How did you and Butch meet?”

“My brother knew him. They both ride bikes.”

“Wade introduced you?”

She nodded.

“How old were you when you started living together?”

“Seventeen,” she whispered and then looked up at him. “I want you to know I didn’t choose to be Butch’s girlfriend. The situation just . . .” She swallowed hard. “Wade couldn’t support us both, and I needed a place to stay.”

As she looked down at the table in embarrassment, Camden had to force a murderous thought about Cobb aside. “Where were you living before you started living with Butch?”

“Wade and I grew up in Minnesota. When we left our father’s house, we moved to an apartment in Chicago. Wade got a job as a mechanic.”

“What was your last address in Chicago?”

“Thirty-seven Mission Street, but Wade wouldn’t be there now. He never had us staying anywhere for long.”

“Why?”

Autumn looked across the room. “He lost his job a couple of times, and we weren’t always able to make the rent. We were evicted more than once.”

Her words brought on relief. Circumstances were the only reason she’d been with Cobb.

Camden quickly changed the subject. “What can you tell me about your parents?”

It seemed like a simple enough question, but the subject seemed to upset Autumn. As she twisted her hands together, Camden’s heart gave a tug. If he was going to help her, though, he needed to ask the tough questions.

She bit down on her lip. “My mother got sick when I was six.”

“What did she have?”

“I think it was pneumonia.”

“She died in a hospital?”

“No.” Autumn shook her head. “It was at home.”

“What about your father?”

She shifted in her seat, and her gaze darted around the room. “What about him?”

“Is he still alive?”

“I think so.”

“Would Wade have gone back there?”

“No.” She blinked rapidly, staring at the floor. “There’s no way he would have. There’s no way either of us would.”

Afraid he’d pushed her too far, Camden reached out and grabbed hold of her hand. “I’m going to get to work on finding Wade, but I want you to know something, Autumn. You can stay here for as long as you need to. I really like having your company.”

As she gazed at him, Camden hoped she knew how much he meant the words. He had to force his train of thought back to the investigation.

“I have a couple of questions for you about the club. Do you know much about their businesses?”

“Not really.”

“Do you know if they’re involved in anything illegal?”

She sighed. “They used to have a gambling operation, but now they sell drugs. Heroin.”

He nodded. “There have been at least ten deaths related to the heroin sales. Did you know that?”

“No,” she whispered.

“How much do you know about the operation?”

She shook her head. “Not very much. Once in a while, I’d hear Butch speaking to someone on the phone.”

“Do you have any idea where the drugs were being produced?”

“No.”

“How often did Butch travel out of town?”

“A couple of times a year.”

“Where would he go?”

“Pennsylvania, usually. Philadelphia, he said.”

“Did you ever go with him?”

“No. Not on those trips.”

“Do you remember the names of anyone he called?”

She looked toward the ceiling, as if trying to recall. “One time he spoke with someone named Byron.” As Camden scribbled down the name, she shrugged. “But that might have been another brother. There are chapters where I haven’t met all the members.”

He nodded. It should be easy enough to check out. “Where do you think Butch and the brothers are now?”

“They must be with another chapter.”

“Were there chapters the club was especially tight with?”

“They were tightest with the Scranton chapter. The one you were with.”

Camden nodded. “Beck Ruiz and some of his men have been arrested, but they aren’t talking.”

Autumn looked at him, her eyes pleading for understanding as she said, “I’d tell you if I knew where they were.”

“I know you would.”

She looked somber. “There’s something else.”

“What?”

“There was a competitor to the Wicked Disciples. Another group selling heroin. Butch used to say the name Paxton a lot. Then one day he quit talking about him. I . . .” She swallowed hard. “I think Butch might have killed him.”

“Paxton, you say?”

“Yes.”

“Was that a first name or last name?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I’ll look into it.” Camden wrote down the name. “Thank you.”

He gazed at her and then swallowed down the regret he felt. If he’d infiltrated Butch’s chapter rather than Beck’s, he could have helped her sooner.

“Enough questions for now,” he said. “Why don’t I show you around the place?”

Autumn nodded. As she rose from the table, she took hold of his empty bowl at the same time he did. Their fingers brushed, sending a zing of awareness through Camden.

“I’ve got it,” he said.

“Right,” Autumn whispered.

She was staring at him. Had she felt the jolt too?

As she let go of his bowl and quickly moved toward the sink with her own, Camden took a moment to compose himself. His gaze shifted to the picture of his grandparents hanging in the hallway.

They’d barely known each other when they’d married. Anna had moved from Illinois to Pennsylvania for a teaching job, and Mitch had been introduced to her by a friend. Within two months, he’d proposed marriage. He’d been twenty-five at the time, and Anna had been twenty-two.

Even though he and Autumn weren’t getting married, Camden couldn’t help but compare their situations. How had his grandparents felt around each other when they’d first lived here together? Had they been shy at first or immediately comfortable? Already, he felt an easiness around Autumn, a sense of well-being that warmed him from the inside out.

He led the way outside and glanced up at the roof. The shingles were old and had contracted with age. Many were hanging at odd angles. Fixing them wasn’t something he’d gotten around to yet. But as he stared at the roof, it became clear he’d need to. Those shingles probably wouldn’t last through another storm.

He shook his head. “I never realized how much work it was for my grandparents to maintain this place.” He gestured at the shed as he walked toward it. “This was my grandfather’s workshop.”

All of Mitch’s woodworking tools still hung inside. His grandmother hadn’t been able to get rid of anything after her husband passed away, and Camden was quickly realizing he didn’t have the heart to either. He’d donated their clothing once he’d moved in, but everything else . . . Their things just held too many memories.

Autumn looked around the small space. “Your grandfather was handy.”

“He was. With wood especially. He made me quite a few toys as a kid.”

A wistful expression crossed her face. “That’s really sweet.”

They left the workshop and walked down to the brook that formed the western border of the property.

“I used to play down here whenever we’d visit.”

Autumn laughed. “In the water?”

Camden grinned. “Yeah. I’d go back to the house covered in mud, and my grandmother would have to clean me up. She used to fuss at me as she was doing it, but I could see she was really laughing.”

As Autumn’s gaze roamed the property, she sighed. “It’s so nice here. Butch had acreage too, but it never felt peaceful like this.”

Her words stirred Camden. How had she managed to survive the last five years with Cobb, a man she didn’t even want to be with? His stomach soured at the thought.

They were just leaving the shed when the neighbor’s brown tabby cat walked out from behind the woodpile and brushed against Camden’s jean-clad leg.

“Roman is the neighbor’s cat, but he comes around a lot.” Speaking to the cat, he pitched his voice higher. “You hungry, bud?”

Camden grinned at Autumn. “That’s a rhetorical question, by the way. Roman’s always hungry.”

Autumn crouched down to pet the cat, who arched up into her hand. “I’ve seen him outside, but Grayson said he wasn’t yours.”

Roman’s purr started, as loud as a motor, and Camden chuckled. “He likes you.”

Autumn smiled as she scratched beneath Roman’s chin. “He’s beautiful.”

“I keep some food for him. He’ll follow us if we go inside.”

Nodding, Autumn rose. Camden opened the back door for her, and Roman trotted into the house ahead of them. While Autumn filled a bowl with water, Camden poured out some food.

The cat was still eating when Camden excused himself. It had been days since he’d logged on to his computer, and he needed to stay in touch in case any clients contacted him.

There were several messages waiting for him. One was from Grayson, giving him an update on Eleanor’s status. The tests were still ongoing but inconclusive so far, and it would be a few more days before he returned to Shavertown.