Deadly Obsession (A Brown and de Luca Novel Book 4) (10 page)

I opened my mouth. I closed it again. Then I turned and walked around the Jeep, got in behind the wheel, buckled up and started the motor.

He turned, closed his door and faced front.

I put the Jeep in gear. And then I blurted, “I love you, too, by the way.” Then, while he gaped at me, I held up a hand. “I’ve known it since you almost got killed rescuing those kids. So just accept it, okay? We don’t need to
talk
about it. Right?” I widened my eyes at him.
“Right?”

“Right! Yeah, of course we don’t. What’s to talk about, really?”

“Exactly. It doesn’t have to
change
anything.”

“Of course not. I just...”

“Just what?”

He shrugged. “I’m really glad to hear it.”

“Cool. So...we’re good, then.”

“Better than good, Rache. I think we have been for a while now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get all mushy on me.”

“Oh,
hell
no. Not gonna do that.”

“Nothing’s different. We’ve just...said it, that’s all. Everything’s just the same.”

It was a stupid thing to say, and he was only nodding so enthusiastically because he didn’t want to call me an idiot at this delicate point in our
relationship
. But I
was
an idiot. Because you couldn’t say that shit and not have it change anything. Hell, it changed
everything.

* * *

Marie was struggling not to let the tranqs drown her. It had taken every bit of concentration, every bit of will she possessed, to grab Rachel and try to warn her.

But they just thought she was crazy.

Hell, that’s because I am.

She’d been stupid, trying so hard to get them to listen, the doctors, the staff...anyone. But they would never listen to a murderous lunatic like her.

She’d become frustrated, lost her temper. She’d raged against them, forgetting, for a moment, that she had no power here. They had all the power. She had to play their game.

So she wasn’t going to act out anymore, because she couldn’t dodge the injections. The pills, yes. But not the injections. So she had to act as docile and lamblike as she could possibly manage. Until the drugs left her system and she regained control of herself. Then she could take action. Not now. Now she was a rag doll with a brain. A broken brain, but still...

She should have played it this way to begin with. Why had she ever thought they would believe her?

No one would believe her.

No. Someone would. The boys. They would listen. She was still their mother.

I have to get out of here. I have to get to my boys.

Marie caught herself gripping the arms of her chair until they were vibrating. The drug’s effects were beginning to fade. She couldn’t let the agitation take hold or they would just give her another shot. She took deep breaths and pretended to be relaxed. Sometime overnight she would get her strength back. Until then, she decided, she would make her plan.

* * *

Gretchen cleaned Mason’s house, imagining herself living there. Oh, she didn’t think it would happen anytime soon, but certainly that was where things were headed. She was acting like a partner, not an employee. He would see that, and then he would understand.

She vacuumed the entire place, cleaned the kitchen till it sparkled and was about to start on the bathrooms when Jeremy, the older boy, stepped into her path at the foot of the stairs.

“Can I help?” he asked.

He was tall, very lean. His collarbones showed through his “Grand Theft Auto” T-shirt. His hair was too long, and it curled at the ends. He was an obstacle. He was in the way between her and Mason.

“That’s okay. I’m getting paid to do this.”

“Yeah? I think you’re getting paid to babysit. Even though I’m seventeen and my brother just turned twelve. Uncle Mason’s overprotective.”

She smiled. “Well, he’s also kind of laid up and in need of help with the housework.”

“But he has no prob making us do that. And I’m feeling guilty sitting on my ass and watching you work, so...?”

She smiled at him, but she wasn’t about to have his uncle walk in and see the kid scrubbing a toilet. She had to be the nurturer. The mother figure, in Mason’s eyes.

“I just put some cookies in the oven. You can watch them for me while I clean the bathrooms.”

Jeremy tilted his head as he studied her. “Look, I don’t want to butt in, but it’s pretty obvious you’re crushing on my uncle.”

“What?”

“I just don’t think it’s fair not to tell you that it’s never gonna happen. He’s crazy about Rachel. You should know that.”

“What makes you think I’m interested in your uncle?”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying—in case. Anyhow, there’s no way I’m letting you clean our bathroom.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

He was
defying
her? Her eyes narrowed, and she spoke in a taut staccato. “As I said,
Jeremy
, I’m getting
paid
to do this. Don’t get in my way.”

She saw his eyes widen in surprise, and he took a step away. At the same time she heard the front doorknob turning. Quickly, she plastered a smile on her face and said, “Had you going, there, didn’t I?”

The kid sighed in relief as Mason walked in. “Wow, something smells fantastic in here.”

Gretchen turned her smile up to high beam and tried to look surprised. In her mind, she was in a scene from an old sitcom, the dutiful and cherished wife, wearing a red-and-white-checked apron, a wooden spoon in her hand, the kids content and cookies in the oven, basking in the adoring gaze of her hardworking husband, just home from a day at the office. He came farther inside, smiling at her as she’d known he would.

Then the fat, ugly dog came snuffling in, stopped and looked in her direction, though oddly, not
at
her, and growled deep and low. Right behind the dog,
she walked in
.

Rachel stepped into the kitchen, took one look at Gretchen, and then shot a look at Mason. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I was just getting to that,” he said.

The bitch smiled, sort of, like she thought things were so absurd it was funny, and lifted her hands. “So get to it, then.”

“Rache, come on,” he said, leaning close to her and trying to speak softly. Gretchen had to strain to hear. “She needed the job, she’d been
hired
for the job, and she’d have been in a financial mess without it. We talked about the dress code.”

“Mason, a woman who shows up dressed like that has more on her mind that her financial status.”

He lowered his head and smiled suggestively at her. “Luckily all I have on
my
mind is you.”

Gretchen’s fists clenched at her sides. And then that woman looked her way, gave a self-deprecating shrug and said, “The cookies smell good.”

But then she got this look in her eyes. They were a striking light blue, and the contrasting dark brown of her hair made her eyes look almost backlit. But it wasn’t the way they
looked
that sent apprehension trailing up Gretchen’s spine like an icy finger. It was the
feeling
they gave her. She felt naked. Exposed. As if the top of her head had been peeled back and Rachel de Luca could look inside and see everything. She’d done her homework, knew all about Mason’s girlfriend and her work. But she hadn’t been prepared for that feeling.

“Excuse me for a minute, my phone’s vibrating.” Gretchen pulled a cell from a pocket and pretended to answer a call, then held up an “I have to take this” finger and hurried through the living room to the back door, and then outside. She closed the door behind her, yapping to a nonexistent caller as she walked around the house until she was out of their sight.

Then she lowered her hand and stood there, trembling.

That woman—Rachel—she was dangerous. She was going to have to go sooner than originally planned.

8

“I
think you scared her, Rachel,” Jeremy said, staring at the door the woman had just gone through. “She’s
weird
.”

“I got that feeling, too,” Rachel said. Mason noticed that she was still frowning at the door Gretchen had exited. “Something’s off about her. And I mean something besides the fact that she’d like to tear your clothes off and bang your brains out.”

“Really?” Mason asked. “I didn’t pick up on anything.”

“That’s because you were blinded by her boobs,” Rachel shot back. “Honestly, Mason, if you can’t tell when a woman’s gunning for you, you shouldn’t call yourself a detective.”

Joshua laughed. They all looked his way. He was on the far end of the living room, completely intent on the puppy, who was sitting just as nice as you please in return for a treat. Mason noted the empty cellophane bag on the floor and said, “Uh, Josh, how many have you given him?”

“I dunno. But it worked! He did it! He learned sit!”

“If you fed him that entire bag, you’ll soon be learning about sh—something that sounds like sit,” Rachel said, with a mischievous look at Mason. “See? I’m working on it.”

No sooner did she say it, than they heard the nurse’s car starting up out front. Mason looked out the window just in time to see Gretchen driving away. “Huh. I guess you
did
scare her off, Rache.”

“Good. If she shows up again, I’ll scare her even harder.” She poked him in the chest with a forefinger. “Why didn’t you tell me she was back?”

“Because I was afraid it would piss you off.” He furrowed his brows. “Actually, I was
hoping
it would piss you off. ’Cause you know, it’s good for my ego when you get all jealous. Thank you, by the way.”

“
De nada.
So why did you hire her back, anyway?”

“It wasn’t...
intentional.
I was talking about her unprofessional clothing, and the next thing I knew she was in tears, thanking me for a second chance and promising to dress appropriately next time.”

Jeremy said nothing, but he had a knowing expression. Like a teenager could know anything about an adult relationship, Mason thought. Still, he made a mental note to ask Jere just what he thought he knew later.

The timer went off, and Rachel opened the oven, grabbed a pot holder and took out the pan of cookies. “Well, at least she bakes.”

“They’re probably not as good as
your
cookies,” Mason said, in an exaggerated act of placation.

“Just keep it up, big guy, and you’ll be wearing them.” She shook her head. “Lucky for you, I’m not the jealous type.”

“Then why were you looking at her like your eyes contained phasers set to kill?”

“You know I can’t stay mad when you use
Star Trek
references,” she said.

He dusted off his shoulder in false pride. “I’ve been brushing up on them just for you. Seriously, though.”

“I don’t know. She was putting out something pretty high voltage. It was jarring, like nails on a chalkboard, but she ran out of here before I could figure out what it was.”

“You sure that wasn’t just a ‘get up out of my sandbox’ sort of reaction?” Mason asked.

“You wish.”

“Yes. Yes I do. I’m imagining the two of you mud wrestling over me right now.”

“Fuck you, Mason Brown. With a cactus.”

His eyes widened, and he sent a look at the boys. Josh was playing with the puppy and out of earshot, but Jeremy was holding his stomach and gasping for air, he was laughing so hard.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “You boys should put out a swear jar. I’d fucking make you rich. Oh, shit, I just did it again, didn’t I?”

Mason lowered his head, shaking it slowly and trying not to let his smile show. Damn, but he loved this foulmouthed female of his a lot. And she loved him back.
That
was some development right there.

In an obvious attempt to divert attention away from herself, Rachel called, “Josh?” And when he looked at her, she nodded toward Myrtle, whose head was turned in his direction, a pathetic expression on her face. Josh got her meaning immediately and jumped to his feet, ran to Myrtle and knelt in front of her, wrapping his arms around her neck. “Don’t worry, Myrt. You’re still my number-one girl.”

“That’s what
he
said,” Jeremy muttered with a wink at Mason.

“You’re not helping, kid.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’m over it already. I trust you thoroughly, Mason. It’s kind of shocking to me to hear myself say it, but apparently it’s true. My inner bitch—excuse me, inner beyotch—has decreed that there’s just no bad in you. And my NFP agrees with her finding, so you’re off the hook. Keep the sexy nurse as long as you need her. I’m cool with that.”

“I don’t find her sexy at all,” Mason said.

“Then you’re gay,” Rachel replied.

Jeremy slapped his thigh and roared.

“Can we just get some dinner already?” she asked. “My belly button is touching my backbone over here.” Mason picked up the phone. “Chinese or pizza?” They had limited options. It was a small town, and those were the only two places that delivered.

“Chinese,” Josh yelled. “I’m sick of pizza.”

“Ribs,” Rachel said. “I’ll even volunteer to go pick ’em up.”

“I’ll go.” Jeremy said. “Josh can come with. You guys can call in the order while we walk the dogs. It’s time for Hugo to go out again.”

Josh grabbed the puppy, ran to hug Mason goodbye, then turned and hugged Rachel around the middle. She hugged him right back and didn’t squirm at all. In fact, she closed her eyes and ran one hand over his hair.

At some point, probably while he’d been on his ass in the hospital, Mason realized, Rachel had fallen in love with the boys, too. He felt a swell of emotion she would have denied could exist and tried not to let his smile look too sappy when she met his eyes.

And damned if hers didn’t look kind of sappy, too.

* * *

Okay, I talked a big game, but the truth was, I
was
bugged by the return of Nurse Goodbody. I hadn’t lied when I said I trusted Mason. Hell, when I told him what I had in the car—you know, the L word stuff—he’d grown two inches taller in his seat.

Not right away. First he’d looked at me, then away, then back at me again, like he was trying to decide if he’d heard me right, and then finally he just said, “I’m really glad to hear it.”

And I said, “Cool. So...we’re good, then.”

“Better than good, Rache. I think we have been for a while now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get all mushy on me.”

“Oh,
hell
no. Not gonna do that.”

“Nothing’s different. We’ve just...said it, that’s all. Everything’s just the same.”

That was pretty much it. The main thrust of our deep and emotional discussion about our relationship’s evolution. And that fact served as further proof that he was the perfect man for me. I loved him. I’d told him so. And the earth hadn’t turned into a mucky swamp of emotional quicksand and sucked me in.

That really was pretty cool. And it had continued to be cool all the way home, until I walked into the kitchen and saw that nurse bitch playing Suzy Homemaker in my detective’s kitchen.

I don’t know if it was because we’d used the L word or what, but something unfurled in my belly at the sight. Something that felt like a fire-breathing dragon. It wanted to take her out. I didn’t like feeling that way and knew it was ridiculous anyway, so I tamped it down, but damn. It was big and mean and all fired up.

I meant what I’d said about Mason, too. He
was
good. Not a deceptive bone in his ridiculously hot body. I really did trust him. Hell, I knew his deepest darkest secrets. Worst thing the man had ever done in his life was cover up the fact that his dead brother was a serial killer. And he’d done that out of love for his nephews.

Him I trusted.

Her I did not. Nurse Sexpot had something going on. I’d gotten a whiff of it as soon as I’d let go of my jealous snit long enough to notice what was happening. And I was pretty sure I couldn’t drop the issue until I found out what it was. I know. That’s like totally the opposite of what any of my books say to do in this situation.

So fucking sue me. I’m wrong, and I’m doin’ it anyway.

* * *

Dr. Cho couldn’t get the things the detective had said out of his mind. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t figure out just what. So he pulled all the day-to-day notes on Marie Rivette Brown’s case, focusing on the ones just before this latest psychotic break, and took them home to study them.

Then he hit on it. Marie’s first episode of panic and violence had happened outside, in the gardens. A nurse had been with her, and she’d hit her panic button to summon the orderlies. Perfectly in keeping with stated procedure. But the thing was, this nurse shouldn’t have been with Marie. She wasn’t one of Marie’s nurses, wasn’t even assigned to Marie’s floor.

Her name was in the notes. Gretchen Young.

He picked up the phone and dialed the hospital, then waited to be put through to Human Resources. “This is Dr. Cho. We have an RN by the name of Gretchen Young who was with one of my patients during a recent break. I need a word with her. Can you look up her contact information for me?”

“Hold on, Doctor.” There was some clicking of keys, then the efficient female voice returned. “Ms. Young no longer works for us, Dr. Cho. She left two weeks ago.”

“Do you know where she went?”

“As a matter of fact...” More clicking of keys. “She took a home care position. And we had a reference check from the Binghamton PD.”

“The police department?”

“Yes. She has a temp job taking care of that cop who got burned saving the kids a while back. Nice gig.”

He frowned. “Detective Mason Brown?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Do you have a telephone number for Nurse Young?”

“Of course.” She read the number, and Dr. Cho wrote it down. “Thank you,” he said softly. “You’ve been quite helpful.”

He hung up the phone. Well, this was just odd. Surely a coincidence, but he had to make sure, didn’t he? Because this nurse had been with Marie when she’d had her break, and now she was working for Marie’s brother-in-law. And Marie’s delusion had to do with someone being out to harm her family. So if there was some connection between Gretchen and Marie’s family, something Marie could have misinterpreted or built up in her mind into something dark and horrifying, that might be the key. He needed to determine if that was what had sent his patient into such a state.

He needed to talk to Gretchen Young. And afterward maybe to Mason Brown again, as well.

* * *

Gretchen paced back and forth across the worn linoleum floor of her apartment, chain-smoking and talking her way through the situation. Things were not going as smoothly as she’d thought. It wasn’t that he wasn’t attracted to her. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her. He did. It was just that there were too many things coming between them. Too many distractions.

Those kids. And Rachel. That evil bitch was going to be a pleasure to kill.

But the kids first, because that would be easy. She could have killed them today, while he was driving all the way to the psych hospital to visit that lunatic Marie. Of course, if they died the first time he left her in charge of their care, even if it looked accidental, that would have been bound to have a negative impact on his feelings for her.

At least for a little while.

Peter had known she was the one who set his stupid wife’s house on fire. He’d blamed her right away. Not that it mattered. Peter was a mistake. He wasn’t her soul mate. She’d known that the first time she set eyes on Mason.

Still, the mess with Peter had happened for a reason. Everything did. It had happened so she could learn from it. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again. When Mason’s kids died, he wouldn’t blame her. He would turn to her for comfort instead.

And then she had a brainstorm.

Wouldn’t it be great if it looked as if Rachel had done it? Two birds, one stone. Well, three birds. Five if you counted those irritating dogs.

But no, he would never believe Rachel had done it. It had to be someone he already knew was capable of...

Oh. Oh, yes, that was it. Of course.

Marie.

Okay, so she had to take it slow. She had to arrange things just right. She had to—

Her phone was ringing. It was probably Mason, calling to apologize for Rachel’s rudeness and invite her back over to share cookies to make up for it. She’d been imagining just this scenario in her mind. He would have been angry at Rachel for acting the way she had. They’d probably argued about it, and she had more than likely stormed out and gone home, petulant and childish. Mason would hate that. Now Gretchen would go over there, and she would be the very opposite of Rachel. And she would end up staying all night long...in Mason’s bed. In Mason’s arms.

It was so obvious he was the one. She’d never given any of her men her real name before. She’d always used a pay-as-you-go phone from Walmart so she could throw it away when things went bad, and things
always
went bad. This was the first time she hadn’t gone into a relationship already sure it was doomed. This was the first time she’d given a man her real name. Her real phone number. The one she used for work and for family. This was the first time she’d shown a man her true profession, let him see inside her world, even a little bit.

The phone was still buzzing in her hand. Her heart racing, she put it to her ear. Her hello was breathless.

“Nurse Gretchen Young? This is Dr. Cho, from Riverside Psych.”

Gretchen’s glittering bubble popped. “Dr. Cho?” she repeated, her mind shifting gears rapidly. Dr. Cho was Marie’s psychiatrist. He was calling her at her personal number only hours after Mason’s visit. What could it mean?

“I want to ask you about a patient of mine. You saw her just before you left. Marie Rivette Brown.”

Gretchen looked at her own lap, one thigh crossed over the other, still hidden under the ugly white scrubs. “What about her?”

“She had a psychotic break. You were the last person to talk to her before it happened. Do you remember what was said? Can you tell me about your conversation with her?”