Will do.
It would have to be good enough. If all went well, he’d have Shane Baird in his hands by the time the canatata was finished. Shane would make good bait and Linnea would give herself up, just as she had for her precious Andy.
He also knew that finding Linnea would only snip a loose end. There was the bigger, original problem of the botched job in the restaurant. He needed to fix that, ASAP.
He washed his hands and returned to the table to find his little family waiting patiently. ‘Ariel, do you want to say the blessing tonight?’
She folded her hands. ‘Yes, Daddy.’
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Saturday 19 December, 6.25 P.M.
Meredith shook her head as she entered her house, her grandfather closing the door behind them. A video gaming system, complete with controllers and cords, had taken over her coffee table. ‘Are you planning on moving back in, Papa?’ she asked lightly.
‘No way in hell. It’s too cold up here.’ He pointed to Diesel, who sat on her sofa reading a manual. ‘Your bodyguard here is a gamer. I was showing him mine.’
Meredith gave Diesel a weary smile. ‘Hey, Diesel, You didn’t have to come sit with me, but I’m grateful that you did.’
‘Don’t even mention it,’ Diesel said. ‘I mean, seriously, I had to fight the others to take the first shift and I didn’t even know Clarke Fallon was your grandfather. He’s a fucking legend.’
It was true. Clarke Fallon was a superstar among game designers. He’d created a blockbuster game ‘back in the day,’ as he called the 1970s, and had continued creating for decades. Now that he’d retired, he kept busy consulting and mentoring younger designers.
‘Do not build his ego,’ she teased, then stood on her toes to peck Clarke’s cheek. ‘I’m going to make some tea. You two want some?’
‘Depends. You got any whiskey for it?’ Clarke asked.
Diesel snickered. ‘I really like him, Merry.’
‘Of course you do. He’s an oversized middle-schooler – just like you,’ she said to Diesel, then turned back to her grandfather. ‘Of course I have whiskey. I was expecting you, Papa. Just not today.’
‘I found a cheaper flight,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d told you I’d moved my dates up.’
‘If you did, I missed it. Diesel, do you want to join us for tea?’
‘Do you mind if I drink it in here?’ He gestured at the screen. ‘He’s beta-testing it. It’s brand new. I’ve only read about it so far. I want—’ He broke off, blushing.
‘You want to play.’ She smiled at him, genuinely charmed by his enthusiasm at a new game. He looked younger than she’d ever seen him. ‘I get it.’ And she did. ‘Go ahead. Play is good for the soul.’ She’d built her counseling practice on that belief.
And it was just as well that Diesel sit in the living room for a while. She needed time to settle, to arrange her thoughts before she asked the man to commit a felony for her.
‘Smart girl,’ her grandfather murmured as he followed her into the kitchen. ‘I think that boy needs to play more than anyone I’ve met in a long, long time.’
Meredith smiled at the thought of Diesel being called a boy, then her smile dimmed. She wasn’t sure what kind of childhood he’d had, but suspected it had sucked royally. ‘I think you’d be right. What kind of tea . . .’
Shit. Meredith’s step faltered. Her refrigerator was covered with pages carefully cut from coloring books and colored in with equal care. Adam’s pictures. She always took them down when she had company, but she hadn’t anticipated today’s events.
Recovering, she put the kettle on. ‘What kind of tea would you like?’
‘Doesn’t matter. It’s just a prop so that I can drink the whiskey without reproach.’ He sat at her kitchen table, not saying another word as she worked, but she could feel his eyes on her. Every second. Until she couldn’t take it anymore. She folded her hands on the counter, staring at the kettle, willing it to whistle, her stress building faster than the pressure in the kettle. She was headed straight for a panic attack. She’d already taken one of her anti-anxiety pills, right before she’d showered in the hotel, because she’d gotten her first good look at her own face. And her soiled hair. She’d nearly lost it right then.
She was about to lose it now. Hands shaking, she reached into her cupboard for the medicine bottle she kept there. She popped another pill and prayed she wouldn’t need more. She’d already taken her limit for the day. She hated taking them at all, but this time of year it got bad. That, and seeing a young man murdered in front of her, she thought bitterly.
And seeing Adam again? That hadn’t helped at all.
She could still feel her grandfather watching her. ‘What?’ she asked petulantly.
‘I didn’t say anything, Merry,’ was his carefully quiet reply.
‘You never had to,’ she muttered. ‘Just like Dad.’ Her father could just look at her and make her confess to whatever wrong she’d committed, from breaking a window to sneaking out after curfew. I miss you, Dad.
She could hear the patpatpat of her grandfather’s palms on his sweatshirt and knew what he was searching for. She got his pipe and tobacco from a drawer and put it on the table. ‘You forgot them the last time you were here.’
‘I didn’t forget them. I left them here in case I forgot to bring my kit in the future.’
She went back to preparing the tea, calmed by the pill and the scent of his pipe. Her hands didn’t tremble too much when she took a pot of tea and a glass of whiskey to Diesel, then set one up for Clarke.
She placed her own teapot and cup on the table, then sighed to herself. She couldn’t pretend Adam’s colored pictures weren’t there. He’d sent them for her eyes only. He’d never said so, but Meredith knew it was true. Without a word, she pulled them off the refrigerator, one at a time, stacked them carefully, and placed them in the drawer of the desk where she clipped coupons and organized recipes.
When she sat at the kitchen table, her grandfather was sipping his whiskey, his pot of tea left untouched. ‘Go ahead and ask,’ she said. ‘I know you want to.’
Clarke shrugged. ‘Seemed remarkably well done for Hope.’
Hope was her nine-year-old niece. ‘That’s because she didn’t do them.’
‘Who is he?’
She blinked at him. ‘What makes you so sure a man colored those pictures?’
‘I wasn’t, till just now.’ He puffed on his pipe. ‘He’s important to you.’
Meredith’s heart hurt. She’d yearned for Adam since she’d first laid eyes on him over a year ago. She dropped her gaze to her tea. ‘Yes.’
‘But he doesn’t feel the same way.’
I have to explain some things. ‘I don’t think so. Can you ask me something else?’
‘Fair enough,’ he said mildly. ‘Who tried to kill you today?’
Meredith’s chin jerked up in surprise. ‘I don’t know.’
‘But you have a very good idea. Anyone bothering you at work?’
He knew about some of the more blatant threats in the past and she knew they had worried him. But he’d never asked her to stop providing therapy to the kids who so desperately needed someone in their corner. She’d always loved that about him.
‘One or two,’ she admitted.
‘But you didn’t tell the police their names.’ He lifted his shaggy gray brows. ‘Wendi whispers loudly. She wanted me to hear.’
‘I couldn’t give names. They haven’t made a specific threat to me.’
Clarke gulped the whiskey, his swallow audible. ‘But you can tell me their names.’
Her heart stuttered in genuine fear. She didn’t want him to be her human shield and she especially didn’t want him going after the shooter. ‘I don’t want you anywhere near them. If one of them is responsible for what happened today, it’s a matter for the cops.’
Clarke’s eyes flashed with temper. ‘Yet you’ve given them no leads.’
‘Not true. I told Ad— Detective Kimble that a person existed. And I told him exactly where the person had followed me and when. All the places have surveillance equipment.’