Around his wrist was a ratty-looking bracelet made of yarn and strips of cloth woven together with sticks and willow twigs and a bundle of something. Herbs? Bat-wing powder? Was this Mom’s attempt at a Wiccan healing bracelet? If so, it was kind of gross.
Derek had stopped to talk to Dad for a minute, but then he walked into the bedroom and I watched his eyes widen, then narrow as he got his first look at Gabriel. His jaw flexed and I wondered what was going through his mind.
I looked down at Gabriel, then back at Derek, whose expression was now impassive.
“Maybe we shouldn’t wake him up,” Mom whispered, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands against her chest. “He didn’t sleep well last night. He’s still having nightmares.”
“It’s important,” Derek said.
“I’m awake,” Gabriel mumbled. His eyes remained closed, but his mouth was set in a scowl.
“I’m so sorry,” I said softly.
His eyes blinked open. “Hey, babe.”
Derek frowned.
I smiled. “Gabriel. How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a bus.”
“Poor baby,” I murmured.
He tapped his left cheek. “It hurts right here. Maybe you’d like to...”
“Easy, tiger,” I said with a grin. “I don’t think you’ve met Derek Stone.”
Gabriel stared up at Derek with one eye open. He blinked once, then held his gaze steadily. After a long moment, he said, “Haven’t had the pleasure.”
“Nor I,” Derek replied.
“Derek Stone,” I said, “this is Gabriel . . . uh, Gabriel.” I still had no clue what his last name was.
“Gabriel’s good enough,” he muttered, and with what seemed like superhuman strength, given his current condition, he whipped the blanket off and sat up. I figured he wasn’t about to remain in bed when another alpha dog stepped into the room.
Gabriel shoved his hand forward and Derek gripped it in a tight handshake. “Nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure’s mine,” Derek said.
“Well, isn’t this lovely?” Mom said, as she gazed affectionately at both Derek and Gabriel. “Everyone’s friends now.”
She really needed to find a hobby.
“Gabriel,” I said, sitting on the small chair Mom had placed by his bed, “Derek has something we’d like you to take a look at.”
“Yeah?” he said slowly and gazed up at Derek, his forehead furrowed in suspicion.
Derek tapped his smart phone until he found the best shot of Alice, then handed the phone to Gabriel.
Gabriel blinked to clear his vision, then stared at the screen. He shook his head, blinked again. “Mary Grace?”
“Mary Grace?” I frowned at Gabriel, then at Derek, then back at Gabriel. “Who’s Mary Grace?”
He glared at me, then Derek, then back at the phone. “What the hell is Mary Grace Flanagan doing on your phone?”
“Who’s Mary Grace?” I persisted.
He ignored me and looked straight at Derek. “What’s she done now?”
“She may be implicated in a double murder,” Derek said straight out. “And she may have been the one who shot you. Can you tell us how you know her?”
Gabriel blew out a heavy breath. “I married her.”
“What?!” I might’ve shrieked it because he winced, while Derek stroked my shoulder as if I were a spooked horse.
“When?” Derek asked.
“Why?” I demanded.
Gabriel shook his head, then laughed without humor. “She was running a scam. We needed to appear married. It’s not important, but you should know that Mary Grace is very, very good at what she does.”
“Which is what, exactly?” Derek asked.
Gabriel told an amazing story. Mary Grace Flanagan had indeed been raised by nuns in a Catholic orphanage and she was a bad seed from the start. Gabriel had met her more than ten years earlier in Bahrain, when he was involved in a Tylos pearl scam and she was smuggling Russian iconic antiquities through the Middle East and into Western Europe. He was twenty-two years old and she was ten years older. They became lovers, but never trusted each other. The thrill wore off quickly as it turned out that there was, after all, no honor among thieves. Gabriel stuck close to her, though, as she geared up to move a shipment of forged Dead Sea Scrolls into France. She hoped to pass them off as newly discovered Qumran cave scrolls, but the shipment never went through and Mary Grace disappeared off the face of the earth.
I couldn’t get a clear picture of Gabriel and Mary Grace together. Gabriel refused to elaborate. What did she mean to him? Had he been trying to set her up or had he been in on the deal?
“I’m not surprised to hear it’s Mary Grace who shot me,” Gabriel said darkly. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“She shot you before?” I asked, fascinated.
“She tried,” he said. Then he cast a look at Derek. “If you’re setting a trap, I want in.”
“I’m not sure you’re up to it,” Derek said mildly.
Gabriel stood. “I’m up to it.”
“I’ve made sandwiches,” Mom announced from the doorway. “There are chips and cookies, too.”