“Why?” he asked softly.
Mary grimaced, her gaze shifting away from him, but then drawn irresistibly back. Sighing, she shrugged helplessly and admitted, “Because I thought you were a crackpot.”
His mouth dropped open at her honesty and she smiled wryly.
“Well, you were claiming you could read and control minds,” she said as if that should explain her reasoning, but realizing that since he apparently could read and control minds, that wasn’t as convincing a reason as she’d first thought. Grimacing, she said, “I’ve never heard of anyone being able to do that in real life. It made me start to doubt everything else you’d told me.”
“So you called Lucian?” he asked solemnly. “Why did you not call the mortal police?”
Mary blinked at the term. Mortal police? Who the hell called the police mortal police?
“Mary?” he asked. “Why did you not just dial 911?”
She hesitated and then shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t want to get you in trouble, so I thought I’d just see who you called and find out what I could and go from there.”
“I see,” he murmured, and then added softly, “Thank you for that.”
Mary shifted uncomfortably and then straightened her shoulders and gestured to the phone. “You should call him back.”
“Yes,” Dante glanced down at the phone. “I need to find out if they got Tomasso out. Excuse me.”
Turning, he stepped down to the door, opened it and slipped outside.
The RV suddenly seemed to have a lot more room again, and a lot more air too. Mary took in a deep breath, feeling like it was the first she’d drawn in since he’d entered, then turned to slip into the bedroom and close the door. She’d had a long day, and quite enough of her guest for now. She needed her own space and sleep.
She moved around the end of the bed, petting Bailey in passing, and then slipped into the bathroom. Her robe and the old T-shirt she wore as a nightgown hung from a hook beside the door. Mary left them there for now and unlatched the lock on the shower door that was to prevent it sliding around while the RV was in motion. Leaning in then, she turned on the taps to start the shower, then turned to collect a towel, shampoo, soap and a washcloth from the cupboard. The water was already warm by the time she accomplished that, and Mary stripped and stepped into the shower. She was usually quick about showers in the RV, but not tonight. Tonight she stood under the warm, soothing spray until it had washed all her tension away.
When she finally got out, Mary dried herself and pulled on the T-shirt she’d been wearing to bed. It was one of her husband’s old T-shirts. While not as big as Dante, he’d been a good-sized man, six feet with nice shoulders. His T-shirt was big enough on her that it reached almost to her knees. She brushed her teeth and hair, and then turned to open the door. It was as she flicked off the bathroom light that her gaze landed on her husband’s closet. Mary peered at it silently, then glanced to the bedroom door.
She doubted very much if her clothes were comfortable for Dante. He didn’t seem to mind their femininity, but surely with their being so tight he’d have trouble sleeping? Besides, while he didn’t seem to mind wearing pink pants and flowered T-shirts, she really didn’t want to explain it to her friends. One look would be enough for them to know they were hers.
Hopefully it had been too dark out for anyone to really see what he was wearing when he took Bailey for her walk, she thought with a frown, and then opened her husband’s closet door to consider the items inside. She then opened the top drawer beneath it to check out its contents as well.
Mary ended up pulling out a pair of dark blue cotton pajama bottoms, a pair of faded jeans she wasn’t sure would fit him, a pair of grey joggers that definitely would fit better than hers, and both a black T-shirt and a white one. Mary headed for the door then, but paused as she remembered she was wearing only the T-shirt. Muttering under her breath, she set the clothes on the bed, opened her own closet to retrieve her robe and pulled it on. After quickly tying the sash of the robe, she collected the clothes again and opened the bedroom door.
Mary wasn’t surprised to find that Dante was finished with his phone call. She was a bit surprised, however, to find him seated on the side of the bed, face in his hands and shoulders slumped.
Setting the clothes on the corner of the couch-bed, she moved up beside him and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Dante? What’s wrong?”
When he didn’t answer right away, or even raise his head, she bit her lip, and then ventured, “Your brother?”
He sucked in a deep breath at that and straightened where he sat. “The house was empty when they got there.”