FOURTEEN
With Kit occupied with his game and Kady playing on the computer in the atrium Micah was left alone to try to figure out if his charge had been kidding. Other than the not leaving his apartment issues, Micah wasn’t under the delusion that Christopher Auberon was insane. That was his uncle’s opinion. But he never had questioned why the kid had been confined to a mental institution…or if that was even real or just something Kit had tossed out to test him.
Now he needed to know.
He grabbed his fully charged laptop and carried it out to the atrium. He pulled the club chair he’d sat in the day he’d arrived around to watch the workers install the glass and to keep an eye on Kady and on the door for Kit. Unless someone came up behind him he had all the privacy in the world. And there was no one in the main house to slip up that he wouldn’t hear coming.
He pulled up the file on Christopher Auberon that he’d never opened. There wasn’t much to the file. Special needs kid. Couldn’t adjust to school. Well, no shit Sherlock. Intelligent. Possibly even brilliant. Defiant and did not play well with others. And that was before the kidnapping.
There was even less information after. Best Micah could determine Kit had been in and out of hospitals. He’d seen more shrinks by the time he was ten than Micah even knew existed. The grandfather kept him from public scrutiny, private tutors, babysitters, the employment turnover rate skyrocketed in those years.
Reginald Auberon was famous, possibly infamous, in his business dealings. Most of his wealth had been inherited and Christopher was his only surviving heir. No relations other than Gideon who wouldn’t inherit a penny upon Kit’s death as he wasn’t related to the family by blood.
After the grandparents passed, Gideon took over the daily care of the kid, and that’s when shit started to hit the fan. Police were called out to the house many times. Domestic disturbance calls from employees. Abuse charges filed. All against Kit. At thirteen, he was committed and spent two years in one of the worst mental facilities in the state.
How in the holy hell did a kid richer than God end up in the state run place? In the juvenile heavy security unit at that?
Micah went back and read all of the reports but there was nothing to indicate why or even how he’d been committed. There had to be missing information. Something the family had purged after the fact. But criminal records did not simply go away, no matter the age. And this kid had killed someone? That would have shown up unless…
He flipped forward in the file. At fifteen, Kit was remanded into his uncle’s custody upon conditions. That was all Micah could find. But the pictures of the kid after his time in the state hospital were brutal to look at. He was small before he went in. After, he was nothing more than a shell. There was no life in his eyes. His hair had turned to a shocking shade of white. He was bruised and battered and, Micah would guess, probably weighed less than a hundred pounds in the couple of pictures he saw. All hands and feet and big lifeless eyes.
After that Kit disappeared from public record.
Micah closed the file and his computer. The weight of the past few days settled upon him and he sprawled in the chair. The workers were testing the glass for leaks. Their chatter becoming background noise as he tried to make sense of the senseless. Namely how he ended up in this madhouse? More importantly why he stayed?
Once the room came back to full heat, the exhaustion he’d been fighting all morning settled in and everything became fuzzy. He wasn’t sure if he dozed or if he simply zoned out. He watched the workers move around outside and Kady at the desk as she fought boredom, as he turned everything over in his mind.
Kit ambled in from the back of the apartment. He made no noise at all. Just watching him made Micah all warm and…
Kady jumped, dropping the computer keyboard with a squeal and a clatter. Micah jumped because the noise scared the sleep that was sneaking up on him away. Kit jumped…because that’s what Kit did. Kady screamed at him for sneaking up on her and Kit threw sign language at her faster than Micah could read.
Micah smiled as they fought like a couple of siblings and then stood side by side watching as the workers finished up and started to pack up. And the warm and fuzzy feeling came back and Micah drifted off again.
A couple minutes, or a couple hours later, Micah jolted awake again. This time the workers were gone and Kit was leaning over him poking his shoulder.
“Hey.” Micah could hear sleep in his own voice.
Kit smiled at him. A touch of pink infusing his cheeks. Which on him was really pretty.
Micah wanted to hold his face in his hands and kiss the pink into a full blown blush. That thought startled him into sitting up and clearing his throat. “Yeah, what’s up? I’m awake. I think.”
“You’re so not.” Kit typed into his little keyboard. The words were a bit less electronic sounding than yesterday but not as real as the first device had sounded. “But Kady is getting ready to leave and asked if you could walk her to her car. I think she’s unnerved by everything that’s gone on here this week.”
“I don’t blame her in the slightest.” Micah was up now. He rubbed his face and popped his neck. “Let me get my shoes and a jacket. Looks like snow.”
Kit turned to look out the window. The faint pink tint of a blush faded quickly as he paled. “It’s supposed to snow tonight. And since there’s nothing really for Kady to do, she may as well get home before the storm hits.”
“What time is it?” Micah needed to remember to wear his watch. This being out of sync was becoming too much of a habit. He stretched and pushed his way up from the chair that was too damned comfortable.
“Nearly noon.” Kit scraped a hand through his hair stopping to squeeze his neck at the back of his head as if he were in pain. “If you bring back sandwich stuff we can eat. I’m hungry I think.”
“I can do that. Anything in particular?” Micah clasped his hands behind his back and leaned forward. Groaning when his body complained about the inactivity. “How in the hell do you stay so thin? I need to go for a run or something.”
Kit tilted his head and gave him a brief appraisal along with a half-smile and a shrug. “Just throw a bunch of stuff on the tray and bring it back. White bread. Spreads. Cheese. I’m not picky.”
“Will do.” Micah jogged back to his room and pulled on his boots and the all-weather jacket he had hanging on one of the low bed posts.
When he came back, Kady was waiting with Kit. She was dressed in street clothes and had her things. “I’m sorry to leave like this, it feels wrong,” she was saying as Micah walked in. “I haven’t done my work. I could stay if you want.”
“There’s no one here to worry about it, Kade. And really most of this house could fall down and I wouldn’t care. I’m good. We’re good. You need to get home before the weather gets bad.” Kit was pushing her toward the hidden door in the atrium wall. “Beastly has enough to worry about without you getting hurt too.”
“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. I could sleep in one of the bedrooms. But yeah, he’s down here with you…and I would only be in the way…of…whatever the two of you do in that really dark room when no one is around.” This time she winked, and Kit turned a pretty shade of pink. “He’s good for you, Kit. I like that you feel something for him.”
Micah cleared his throat, and they both jumped. Almost identical expressions of guilt appeared on their faces. “Ready, Kady?”
“I guess, Beastly. Since I’m being shoved out the door, whether I want to be or not. Shall we?” Kady hooked her arm out for Micah, shooting Kit a one finger salute as she dragged him out the door.
Micah heard the door latch behind them and looked back but couldn’t see a thing through the windows. “Where’s your car?”
“In front of the garage.” She dropped his arm and tucked her hands into her jacket pockets. “It’s getting really cold. The weather is turning again. He doesn’t like it when it snows. He won’t sleep. He paces. Like a caged animal. Something about winter messes with his head.”
Micah tucked his hands into his pockets and walked with his shoulders slumped against the wind. “I figured. He’s…not right is he?”
She stopped and turned to face him. Anger clear in her eyes. “He’s not insane. He’s just…different. I don’t know, Beez. He’s—”
“You’re totally in love with him,” Micah said, almost as startled by the discovery as Kady was at being caught. “Not, that way…or maybe that way. I…I’m not going to hurt him Kade. I’m trying to understand him. And this whole mess. I don’t know what’s going on around here enough to even figure out how to keep him safe. Or what I’m keeping him safe from…I mean besides the obvious. It seems there’s more that no one is telling me.”
“And you think I know some deep juicy insider secret stuff so you though you would pump me for information?” Kady went immediately on the defensive, and rightly so.
Micah sighed. He stood staring up at the sky that was becoming the color of steel with every passing moment. “No. I want to stop thinking I’ve become some character from Clue who was dropped in to find the body and figure out who done it when everybody did it and I’m the only one who doesn’t have a script.”
“And because he got under your skin.” She tossed the words back with the same blunt force that he’d used on her. “Admit that you let him matter to you. And maybe I’ll tell you what I know.”
Micah clenched his hands into fists. No one mattered to him. That’s the way it had to be. You don’t get attached and you don’t die inside when you’re left alone. He’d let too many people in. And now they were all dead. “He doesn’t matter to me. Not the way you want him to. I’m not falling in love with him. He’s not—”
“You keep on telling yourself that.” She turned away to walk swiftly toward the garage. Her feet crunching in the gravel, the sound loud in the unsettling quiet of the growing winter afternoon.
Micah caught up with her in four strides. He grabbed her elbow and spun her to face him. “I can’t, Kady, he’s off limits.”
Kady glared at him for a long moment before she sighed. “Micah. Micah fits better, more personal. We’re both employees here. We’re equals. I’m not calling you mister or what the fuck ever. You’re not Rochfort or even Gibbs who live this servant master thing, like it’s fucking Downton Abbey…that’s their thing and they sign my paycheck. But me and you? No bullshit. You came here a week ago, all hard ass cop, and in that week, you became attached. You didn’t have to move into his apartment. You don’t have to be here 24/7. You don’t have to babysit him. He’s been okay on his own for years now. But you didn’t complain when they moved you. You lost that cold detached look after the ceiling fell on you. So either you are using him for your own purposes or you are emotionally invested. Be fucking straight with me. Are you using him for sex or are you—”
“Falling for him?” Micah shoved both hands through his hair. “I’m fucking falling for him. I don’t want to, Kady. I don’t want him to matter. Or you to matter. Or fuck…Rochfort or Gibbs…or Spencer and Miranda either. But I really don’t want Chris to matter.”
“You called him Chris. Not Kit. He’s not some kid to you with a kid’s nickname. He’s a man and beautiful one at that. You really are falling for him, aren’t you?” The anger she started off with died as a blast of cold wind swept across them. “And you’ve never been in love before I bet.”
“The last man I slept with—” Micah couldn’t open that wound. Not even for Kady. He’d bled all he was going to bleed. “No. I’ve never been in love. I don’t know what it feels like. I can’t say I’m falling in love with him. Because…but he matters. He got under my skin and I can’t protect him. From me. Or from whoever that was that shot at him. Or broke into the house. I don’t understand enough to keep him from—”
“Bleeding out while you watch.”
The words were a time warp, and he was trapped inside. The car upside down. His partner dead. The little girl dying. Micah closed his eyes on the nightmare that never went away. “You could say that.”
She walked away again. Not angrily this time. He followed, falling into step beside her as they made their way to the garage.
“He’s not insane, but he’s not sane either. He balances between the two. He’s creative. You should see his art. His sketches are incredible. His paintings are masterpieces but he destroys them. Every one of them. I’ve never known why. He has no memory of his childhood. Not one. I know he lost his parents in a fire. I know he was taken from the house before the fire. He can’t remember them. At all. Rochfort and Gibbs are the closest thing he has to parents. His uncle comes around once a month to check up. But I’m never here on those days. I know that over the years there have been threats. Threats that contain information about the fire and kidnapping that no one is supposed to know about. I know they’ve kept as much as they could from the media because the person or persons who took Kit and killed his family and his nanny is still out there. I know they all think this is him coming back to finish whatever it was he started.”
“But?” Micah stopped beside her small sedan, waiting for her to say what she really thought. So far she was only repeating what Micah already knew.
“But…but the house is full of antiques. The local economy is dying. Back in the day this place used to be open to the public and tourists came to see how the wealthy lived, and they shopped in town and stayed in the bed and breakfasts. In the last ten years since Kit has been in residence, all that has stopped. I think there are a lot of angry folks out there. I think they blame the rich people in the palace. I think it’s getting back what they think is theirs. The estate used to employ nearly a hundred people. Now, it’s less than ten. People think the Auberon’s are hoarding their wealth. I think it’s a misguided attempt to bring the giant down to size. But they don’t know about Kit and why things are the way they are now. It’s not personal, Micah.”
“Last night, the man who broke in, did so to hurt. He sent a message when he assaulted Sam and taped him to his bed. He knew Kit was watching. He made sure Kit knew he was there. By my way of thinking, this is incredibly personal.” Micah opened her door for her and stood waiting for her to climb inside. They faced off over the door frame. Micah knew she knew more than she’d ever cop to. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Someone made it personal, Kade. And I’ll do what it takes to protect him. Whatever it takes.”
She nodded finally and without another word she got into her car and with one last glance his way Kady drove away, leaving Micah alone in his luxurious ghost town, complete with its very own ghost.
* * * * *
Beastly and Kady made slow progress around to the garage. Kit watched them walk and talk and argue. He didn’t want to know what Beastly had said to piss Kady off so much, he decided and let it go. He had more pressing problems anyway. He picked up his phone and called Gibbs. Her voice came over the line and he wilted in relief.
“I was wondering when you’d call,” she said in her no nonsense way.
“There were workers here. I waited until they finished up. Is the old man all right?” Kit didn’t like talking on the phone. Or rather typing into the unit that connected him to the phone. “Are you okay? Is there anything I need to do?”
“We’re okay. The mister is with me. Spencer is with his wife. She’s having contractions again. I think the low pressure might put her into full labor. Say a prayer for that baby. And the old man is going to be fine. He’s cranky and griping at everyone who comes near. But they’re keeping him tonight, anyway. He was hit pretty hard, Kit. He doesn’t realize how lucky he was Mr. Beez was there. The old fool.” Gibbs did love to talk which was fine with Kit. He loved listening to her.
“And his arm? Micah said it was broken when he got the update this morning?” Kit remembered being dragged into bed not long after that. But that was another conversation.
“Old bones. Just a fracture. He’ll be in a cast for a few weeks. Which will tick him off no end. But the cracked skull he could have lived without. He’s going to be fine, sweetheart. A couple weeks of whining and complaining should set him right.” She paused for a moment when someone at the hospital spoke to her. Kit waited politely. “Kit, honey, the mister is suggesting that we move up there. He’s got a couple weeks of vacation time, and it would be best if someone was there to keep Sam from hurting himself. And to make sure you’re seen to while he’s recuperating.”
There was hesitation in her voice. They’d had this conversation before. Mr. Gibbs’ work was too far away from the house to take up permanent residence. Kit had never pressured them to move in though he’d love having her around more than from nine to seven most days. Right now might not be the best time with someone attacking people in the middle of the night.
“Now, listen, I know you’re trying to think up reasons to say no. Especially after what happened last night and earlier this week. But with more people there, this fool wouldn’t feel like he could go traipsing in like he owns the place. And until Sam is healthy, he doesn’t need to be running around at all hours of the night—”
“Waiting on me.” Kit finished for her. His guilt magnified in that one little sentence. If he were normal and could live on his own he wouldn’t need a keeper. Or a bodyguard. Or anyone. He’d have friends. Live in the city. Go out. Maybe have a family. Be normal.
“That’s not what I meant.” She sighed on the other end of the phone. “You know how he is. He’s got to rule the roost. He has this need to be in everybody’s business, and that house and you are all that’s left for him to bully. You don’t need that. And he needs someone to tie him down…oh that’s not what I meant. He’s needs tending to is all I’m saying. The mister can drive while Spencer is needed here. I should give Kady instructions. Put her on the phone.”
Kit smiled despite the guilt. “I sent her home. There’s a winter storm moving in. And she’d just be out in the main house alone making me worry about her.”
“Oh, okay, that’s good. I suppose. And tomorrow is Kady’s day off and Miranda’s day on duty. I should probably call her to come…”
“I’ve already called her and told her not to come in tomorrow. None of you should come in tomorrow. Monday will be soon enough, weather willing.” Kit cut her off before she had poor Miranda on the road with a blizzard coming.
“But that leaves you and Mr. Beez out there alone with no one to feed you.” Mother Hen could fuss about Father Goat all she wanted and never see the same traits in herself.
“Micah is capable of fetching sandwich things from the kitchen. He can even scramble eggs and make toast. We won’t starve. We’ll be two single guys fending for ourselves….in a fully stocked kitchen in a mansion, you know, like normal people.” Kit caught Kady’s car driving out of the drive toward the road, but Beastly had disappeared from camera range. Panic clawed at him for a moment, when he thought maybe Beastly had decided to abandon him and ride into town with Kady. Micah came on camera in the garage a minute later. Kit relaxed as the man stroked the curves of his car. Okay, okay, okay, okay.
“Okay, dear. I guess that’s the best we have right now. They’ll likely release Sam in the morning. We’ll keep a weather eye and see you as soon as it’s safe to travel the roads.” She made kissing sounds at him and was gone in a click.
Kit disconnected his device from his phone and tried not to let the oppressive sky send him into an all-out panic.
He clawed at his neck trying to stop the tingling awareness of impending doom from biting him. Kit paced. Waiting. He waited. Fuck he hated waiting.
He went back to the security feed watching as Micah closed the garage doors and walked around the building. He checked windows. And shaded his eyes to stare off into nowhere. Kit lost him again when he went around the front of the main house until he came back into view. There was a bit of a blind spot Kit was unaware of between the garage and the house. Kit jotted that down in his things to remember notes. Right after replace the glass in the rest of the atrium and buy new alarms for the windows.
Micah kept walking. He tried the front door which was locked. Kit was about to buzz him in, but Micah walked on.
It wasn’t until he’d made the full circuit of the house and was back on the patio that Kit figured out what he was doing. He buzzed the kitchen door open when Micah got there, and once he was inside, Kit locked the entire house down for the night.
“Fuck, it’s cold out there.” Came over the speaker from the kitchen. Kit didn’t immediately pull up the feed or flick open his speaker connection. Beastly was prickly about his privacy. “Hey God, got your ears on?” Well, that was a different story.
“I’m here, good buddy, come back.” Kit laughed, as he typed that.
“So, are you Bandit and I’m the Snowman?” Beastly laughed too, as he tugged off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair. He stomped his feet and blew on his hands for another moment.
“I see you as more the Sheriff who chased them across the country type.” Kit settled in to watch Beastly meander around the kitchen. He opened cabinets and looked in pots, and fiddled with the stovetop and the ovens. “What are you looking for?”
“Don’t know. I’m starving. I want more than a cold sandwich after that trip around the perimeter.”
“Are the hatches secure, Captain?”
“Everything looked secure. I didn’t see anything. How in the hell did that guy climb in the freakin’ window? It’s a good six feet at least off the ground with a hedgerow underneath. Looked like holly. The doors are all locked. I called up the security checks and got updates. They’ll change up at dark, but with the weather coming in, they’re keeping the dogs in. Hopefully this will be a quiet night. Fuck, it’s barely past noon, and it’s already getting dark. I don’t particularly like storms.”
Kit wasn’t exactly fond of them either. “I armed all of the alarms. Set everything I have control of and now…don’t know…what are you doing?”
“Thinking about making chili. But that takes too long. Maybe some spaghetti or something. Something hot. Not soup. Gibbs did me in on the soup.” Micah stood in the fridge door, looking at what was available. “There’s casserole things in here. You willing to try one? Or is your heart set on cold cuts.”
Kit wrinkled his nose. Sometimes he really didn’t like reheated food. “There should be beef in the lower drawer. I think Gibbs was planning to make lasagna today. I wouldn’t mind something hot and fresh.”
Micah grunted and found a package of butcher wrapped meat in the meat drawer. “Fast or slow?”
Kit’s stomach growled. “Faster would be better.”
“I hoped you say that. Point me in the right places.” He laid the package on the counter by the stove and dragged down a skillet and a pot. “Pasta?”
“Dry pantry to the left.” Kit answered immediately waiting for the next question.
“Tomato paste, sauce, something.” Micah added.
“Same pantry. Dry spices too. What else.”
“Onion, garlic, pepper?” Micah twirled his hand in the air as he thought about what he needed.
“The pantry to the right, she keeps all of the fresh vegetables and certain fruits in that one.”
Micah came back loaded down with supplies. He laid everything out on the counter and looked up. “Cutting board?”
“Board is in the cabinet right about where your knees are.” He watched as Micah filled the pot with hot water from the work sink and salted it. He chopped the vegetables and added them to the skillet.
“Olive oil?” Micah looked up at the camera and winked. His smile was suggestive enough for Kit to figure out exactly what he meant.
And, oh hell. If he had an actual voice he’d have to clear it before speaking.
“Never mind, I found it.”
And Kit relaxed. So why did he suddenly feel so strange. All over.
Micah put a thick handful of pasta into the water, fanning it out so that it wouldn’t stick together, and dribbled oil into the pan with the vegetables. The meat followed and he worked silently putting everything together. Stopping to taste and add more of this and that. Finally he drained the pasta and stopped. “Bread? Cheese? What am I forgetting? Want a salad or something? Talk to me, Kit.”
“Cheese. I like cheese. Cheese drawer in the fridge. Uh…I don’t really need anything else. I think Gibbs has a loaf of garlic bread in the bread box. And there’s usually some flavored spreads in the fridge. Grab what you’d like. Want beer or something lighter? I have dishes.”
Micah combined the sauce and the pasta and stirred it over the heat until he was satisfied and then it went into a large serving bowl he found in the crockery pantry. He grabbed a spaghetti spoon, and with a stop in the fridge, a block of cheese and the grater. Bread from the box and butter. “Open the door. I’m on the way. Oh and beer. Please.”
“Meet you in the game room.” Kit waited for him to shut the kitchen down to buzz the door and let him in.
The first snow hit the roof of the atrium just as Kit looked up. He forgot for a moment. Forgot that he wasn’t normal. If he were normal, he’d have been in the kitchen taking in the warmth and the company instead of out here. Alone. Pretending that he was a part of making dinner and flirting with a man he wanted to sleep with…and…Kit counted his steps. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. And the snow was left behind for plastic utensils because he couldn’t be trusted with the real things and nobody had told Beastly that he wasn’t normal and that snow on the roof and dark in the sky could become deadly in the blink of an eye.
So Kit didn’t blink.