Over the next month, their days were filled with work but their nights were devoted to long hours of lovemaking. He’d discovered she loved when he talked dirty to her. Sometimes, during the day, he’d catch himself thinking of seriously nasty things he could say in her ear. And then he would find himself with a raging erection and have to do division distraction to get his mind on something else.

He didn’t stay every night. In fact, a lot of nights he would return to his hotel to catch a couple of hours of sleep before he showered and returned. He was sure some psychiatrist would say he had some type of commitment phobia, but that wasn’t it, or at least he didn’t think it was. He told himself he was giving her space. They worked together in her home every day. If he stayed every night, he ran the chance of her tiring of him. He knew he’d never tire of her, of hearing her voice, of making love with her. But she’d been through so much. He wasn’t going to push himself into her life. She would have to invite him in.

The oddest thing had been Fiona’s assistant’s reaction to discovering they were seeing each other.

Early one Friday morning when he arrived at Fi’s house, Lori was the only person downstairs.

“Where’s Fi?”

“Oh, poor baby. She’s in bed with a massive migraine headache. You know that strong daylight gives her problems, right? I think all the Saturdays on your bike have finally caught up with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Chase. She’s not used to a life like that. She’s used to quiet and peace. You’ve come roaring in here with your Harley and your promises, and I think she’s overwhelmed. She asked me to make sure every drop of sunlight was blocked out of her bedroom and not to bother her.”

“She told you to tell me not to bother her?”

Lori laughed and fiddled with the collar on her blouse. “Well, no. She didn’t mention you directly. I can only assume that she meant she wanted no one to come into her room today.”

He nodded his understanding. This was the first time Fiona had suffered from a headache since he’d been here. There’d been no reason for her to mention that she got migraines from time to time, so there was no reason he would have known.

“Fine. I’ll head up and get to work on yesterday’s narration. Let me know if she wakes up.”

“Of course. Poor baby,” she said, her eyebrows furrowed in sympathy. “She looked awful.”

“I won’t bother her then.”

He didn’t see her all day, which, he had to admit, surprised him. He’d figured she’d take something and be over it by lunch, if not early afternoon. Lori was still in the kitchen when he came down at five. That was also strange. Typically, she was gone by noon on Fridays to get an early start on the weekend.

“Still here?” he said.

“Yes. I checked on her about an hour ago and got growled at.”

“Think I should take her to the hospital emergency room? It might be something more than just a migraine.”

“Oh, no. I’ve seen her with these before,” she assured him. “She should be right as rain by tomorrow. You go on home, have a nice evening, and don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine.”

“I feel like I should at least stick my head in the door.”

“It’s your head, but trust me when I tell you that she will not be glad to see you.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I guess you’re right. If she’s resting, I wouldn’t want to disturb her.”

“Exactly. Call her in the morning.”

“You’ll check on her before you leave?”

“Of course. Don’t worry.”

“Tell her if she needs anything, just call me.”

“Sure will. Once you’re gone, I’ll finish up down here, check on our girl, and I’ll be out of her hair, too. Have a good weekend.”

“You, too, Lori. I’m glad you’re here with Fiona. I know you’ve been a lot of help.”

“I’m glad to. This is the best job I’ve ever had.”

“Night then.”

“Night, Chase.”

On the drive back to his hotel, there was something Lori had said that had jumped out at him at the time. Now, he couldn’t remember what that was for the life of him.

Taking Lori’s advice, he picked up a six-pack of beer and a pizza for a night in. He had some work for Brotherhood Protectors he needed to finish and get back to Hank. It was looking like a perfect night for that.

As he chewed his all-meat pizza, he thought about Lori. Fiona had never mentioned how she found her assistant. Ad? Reference? Job posting on the internet?

Now that he thought about it, what did he know about Lori Wood? How much did Fiona know? How much of a background check had she done?

Really, the assistant had done nothing that deserved his critical eye, but now he was curious. He knew very little about her. Her name, of course. She’d mentioned that she’d lived in Big Branch growing up and that her family had moved to St. Louis when she’d been a child. Her parents were both deceased, and she had a brother named Bobby. And that was about it. He had no idea where she and Bobby lived.

Still, it was a start.

He began an online search for Lori Wood by checking all the social media sites. Lots of Lori Woods, but none of the pictures on the accounts—when there were pictures—matched Fiona’s assistant.

Bobby Wood, another very common name, brought up a ton of social media accounts but he didn’t have much to work with. Name and state. Otherwise, nothing. And he had to face it, Texas was a big state with lots of Bobby Woods living here.

He sat back and drew a long gulp of his beer. When he’d been looking up Fiona, he’d found some limited information but nothing about her accident or her blindness. There had to be some newspaper accounts.

In a way, he felt like he was invading her privacy by looking. On the other hand, auto accidents, especially those involving drunk drivers, were news and usually reported.

He started with the local paper, the Big Branch Chronicle. There was nothing on the internet, which now that he thought about it, made sense. The accident that took her sight was over twenty years ago. Odds were that a small town newspaper hadn’t digitized their daily papers back then. So a dead end there.

Some fancy internet guru he was.

Still, he put in the year of Fiona’s accident and the details he knew. A story popped up about a local delivery man who’d been drunk on the job and had crashed the store’s delivery truck into a car driven by a man with his daughter a passenger in the car.

He pulled up the story but the details didn’t match. In this accident, the man had his son with him and the son was killed in the accident. The other driver died but his daughter had lived. So two dead and two walked away. Not Fiona’s accident. This one had taken place in Dallas. Close to what he understood happened, but not the same. Funny that there had been two similar accidents within the same year.

It was close to midnight when his phone rang. He startled awake and snatched his cell off the table.

“Hello?”

“Chase? This is Shade Gruber.”

Chase shook his head to wake up and looked at the kitchen clock. “What’s wrong?”

“Probably nothing, but I was taking the kids’ new puppy out for his umpteenth pee and noticed lights on the third floor of Fiona’s house. I was hoping you were working late.”

Chase was already moving as he spoke. “Nope, but I’m on my way.”

“It’s probably nothing. You or Lori, or even Fiona, could have left them on today and I just noticed them because it’s so dark out here.”

“Lori doesn’t have any work on the third floor.” He shut his door and walked toward his truck. “I didn’t leave the lights on, and Fiona doesn’t need lights.” He slammed his driver’s door. “I’ll be in there in five minutes.”

“Not if you drive the speed limit.”

“Speed limit? Never heard of it.”

He clicked off and tossed his phone into the passenger seat. Lights on in Fiona’s house at night? Something was major wrong.

Gruber was standing on his front porch when Chase jammed his truck onto park. Sure enough, light from the third floor filtered out.

“Gruber,” Chase said.

“Adams.”

“You see anyone moving around?”

“Nope, but first and second floors are dark. If there is someone in there besides Fiona and they are on either of those floors, I wouldn’t see them.”

“I don’t want to scare Fi by letting myself in. I’m going to call her and tell her I’m coming in.”

“Good luck. She didn’t answer my calls.”

 

Fiona’s head felt like she had someone with a jackhammer drilling into her brain. She was nauseous and weak. She’d felt fine when she’d gone to bed last night, but she’d been unable to drag herself out of her bed all day.

Lori had checked on her, even bringing her pain medicine, but nothing helped. She’d waited all day for Chase, but the afternoon Lori had told her he hadn’t come in today. He’d called and said he had to go out of town and wouldn’t be back until Monday morning. Fiona had thought it was odd Chase hadn’t mentioned an out of town trip, but concentrating too hard on it had produced more pain and waves of nausea.

Her phone had rung off and on all day, but she couldn’t make herself care. Lori told her to ignore it, and she would handle all calls. That seemed like the right thing to do.

Now, her phone was ringing again. First her house phone and then her cell phone. If she knew where her cell phone was, she might answer, but talking took too much effort.

The aroma of pipe smoke filled her room, strong enough it made it cough.

“Oh, dear. Is my smoke bothering you?”

Fiona’s heart leapt into her throat. Someone was in her room. Her legs shook under the covers.

“Get out,” she ordered with a cough. “Otherwise, I’ll sic my dog on you.”

“I’m not too worried about a ten-year-old German Shepard who got a nice dose of sleeping powder in his nightly dinner.”

“You better not have hurt my dog,” she threatened, anger flushing some of her away.

“Or else what?” He laughed. “You’re going to flail around and try to hit me or something?”

“Who are you? What do you want? Money? I can give you money!”

She heard the plunk of a chair near her bed and then he said, “Money? Why, yes. I do want money. I want all your money, and your house, and everything else that was mine.”

She frowned. “Go away. My head hurts.” She scooted down into her covers. “I need to sleep.” Was she dreaming? This seemed real, but dreams sometimes did.

Suddenly, her bedcovers were thrown back, exposing her. “No way, bitch. At least, you can’t sleep right now. But after we’ve had our little talk, then you can take a nice, long dirt nap.”

She snatched her top sheet back to over her. “Talk.” Maybe if she could see this guy, she’d be more scared, but right now, she was more mad than terrified. “Name.”

“Name?” He laughed. “You’re not the one in charge here, Blindie. See what I did there? Blindie instead of Blondie.” He laughed, the sound edged with hysteria. “I crack myself up sometimes. Now, which one of us can see what’s going on and which one of us is blind to reality? Need a hint?”

Her intruder slapped her. Sharp pain shot through her face and head. A dizzying sensation swept through her. But at least she was awake now, her brain starting to function.

“That help?” he asked.

She pressed the palm of her hand to her face. “Who are you?”

“God, you are so stupid, aren’t you? I’m Robert.” He announced his name as though she would immediately know who he was.

“Robert? Robert who?”

“Fuck you’re slow. Robert Wood.”.

“Bobby? Lori’s brother?”

“I haven’t been called Bobby since I was a child, but at least I’ve finally gotten through your thick skull. Lori’s brother. Now you’ve got it.”

“But…”

“Poor Lori tried to help you. She really did. She told me to go away and stay away from you. But she’s not my boss. I’m the one in charge, not her. Stupid woman. I’m the one who made her take this job. It was all my idea. I’m the one who’s had free rein of the house at night for months. Me. I’m in charge. Not you. Not her. Get it?”

“I get it.” She rubbed her throbbing cheek. “Why did you make Lori take this job?”

“Am I going to have to explain everything to you? It’s like talking to a child. This house, all that money you’ve got—everything is mine, or should have been mine. You had no business taking everything.” She smelled his breath as he spoke. He had to be leaning over her. “Very selfish of you. Lori tried to be like you. She tried to learn how to read books for a living.” He snorted, spittle hitting her cheeks. “You fucking read books and people pay for that. Un-fucking-believable. But, hell, if those idiots will pay to hear you, they will love hearing my book.”

“Your book.”

“That’s right. I’ve written a book about my life. I’ll put out the digital, print and audio all at the same time. Everyone will want to read it.”

“And what’s your book about?”

“I told you. My life. How you stole everything from me, and how I got it back.”

Fiona rubbed her cheek. “I’ve stolen nothing. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re responsible for killing both my parents.”

He was crazy. That’s the only thing she could come up with.

“You have me mixed up with someone else.”

He tsked. “Let me explain and then it’ll be time to get on with tonight’s activities.”

“Activities...”

“Right. Once you understood the gravity of your actions, you became so distraught you hung yourself.”

Her stomach rolled. He was crazy.

“Enough of this.” She hoped her cellphone was on her bedside table where she usually kept it. She reached for it but her hand met nothing but vacant tabletop.

“You looking for this?”

He hit her other cheek with the edge of her phone.

Pain sucked away her breath. She felt a trickle of blood down her face.

“I told you. I’m smart. You’re stupid. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. How you killed my parents. And if you say another word, I won’t bother explaining, I’ll just kill you.”

She had to keep him talking. When he stopped, she’d be in serious trouble. As long as he was talking, she’d be breathing. How long she could keep him yapping was the issue. Long enough for Lori to realize her brother was gone and come for him? Obviously poor Lori was aware of her brother’s mental problems, and that was why she’d kept him away.

Except she hadn’t kept Bobby away—if he was telling the truth about being in her house at night. Her stomach roiled. With the frequent pipe smoke aroma she smelled over the last few weeks, Fiona figured that was one truth Bobby was telling. Did Lori know Bobby was coming into Fiona’s house sometimes?

“Fine,” she said. “How did I kill your parents?”

“Let’s start with the inane name. I hate the name Wood. I was proud to be Robert Havens. But no. Lori said we had to have a different last name to start over.”

“Havens?” she whispered. “Robert Havens? You mean Bobby Havens? He’s dead.”

“Not so much,” he said a slight sing-song quality to his voice. “Alive and well. Better than you’ll be.”

“You can’t be Bobby Havens. Bobby died on the day of the accident.”

“Nope. Wrong again, idiot. And stop interrupting me. Now where was I? Oh, yeah. Pop took me to work with him that day. His boss was an ass. Always yelling at Pop. Always criticizing him, just like Mom. Hell, she was even worse. Telling Pop he wasn’t making enough money, or drinking too much, or coming home too late. She made his life hell, just like his boss did. Who can blame a guy for having a beer at lunch?”

“A beer? He was way over the limit when he crashed into my dad’s car.”

“Shut up! You don’t know anything about Pop.”

He slapped her again, this time on top of the cut cheek. Pain shot through her head and she cried out.

“I told you to stop interrupting me.”

What felt like the barrel of a gun jabbed into her forehead.

“Now, let me finish my story.”

She nodded, afraid he would pull the trigger if she said anything else.

“So what? Pop had a little drink from time to time to get through the day. He deserved it, what with all the world against him. All the world, but me. After your little accident—and I’m still sure your father hit us—his ungrateful boss fired him. Can you believe that? After all those years of working for Lone Star Furniture and More, they fired him. And then my mother, that bitch. She cried, and moped around the house for weeks. Bitched about him not having a job and bitched about him having a nip from time to time. What’s a man to do?

“I knew I had to help Pop. Poor mom. Her drug overdose was so tragic. Did you hear about that?”

Fiona said nothing, a chill spilling down her spine.

“I said, did you know my mother killed herself?” He punched her throbbing cheek with the barrel of the gun.

She shook her head, even though the action made the throbbing worse.

“See? That’s what I mean about you being such a selfish bitch. You ruined my family and didn’t even care enough to find out how we were doing.”

Fiona sat stone still and said nothing.

“Well, how boo-hoo sad. Poor Bobby and Lori only had their father left. Dad knew what I’d done. He knew I’d helped Mom along on her journey, but how could I not? She was bringing down the whole house with her whiny attitude. Understand?”

She nodded, but what she understood was that Robert-Bobby Havens-Wood was crazy.

“But my dad? He cried. He got mad at me about Mom. Mad. At. Me. Can you believe that? Here I was doing everything to help him, but did he appreciate it? No, he did not. Ungrateful bastard. So I let him crawl back into his bottle. I didn’t care. I had to take care of Lori and me. We were the future of this family. We were shocked, shocked I tell you, when his car went over a cliff late one night. Boom! The car and he went up in flames.”

Hot breath raked across her face but she didn’t dare turn away

“Bastard got what he deserved, don’t you think?”

Fiona nodded. Hell, she’d agree with anything this insane man said. She had to live a little longer. Long enough for help to come. Long enough to figure out she could rescue herself.

“So,” he continued, a pleased tone to his voice, “Lori and I had to go live with our grandparents for a few years. It was okay. Once I made those old people understand who was in charge, they fell in line. And so, here we are.”

“Why are you here now?” she asked, nervous that his storytelling was over.

“You mean, why did I wait twenty years? Simple. I had stuff to do.”

He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her from the bed. She cried out, pulling against his strength.

“And now, the final chapter to my book. You die.”

She was on the floor being dragged toward her door. She tried kicking, or wrapping her feet around something to slow him down, but her feet connected with nothing. Finally, she got a toehold on the carpet, got her hand around her hair and somehow got her feet under her. Now, she crab walked behind him, slowing his progression.

“Where are you going?” she gasped out.

“I’m going home as soon as I’m finished. You, poor woman, are going to hang yourself.”

“I’m not.”

She straightened her legs, rose, and rushed forward, slamming into his back. He stumbled forward.

“You bitch,” he shouted, but his voice was different, higher in pitch.

She swung her arms, connecting with his torso. He released her hair, and then his hands were under her arms.

“Fine. Don’t hang. I’ll just throw you off. Those hardwood floors below will do the job just fine.”

The railing in her sitting area pressed into her back. She wrapped her arms around his very thin waist.

“If I go, you go,” she snarled.”

Bobby raked at her arms, trying to get them off him. She was able to get her feet back on the carpet. He pulled her toward the staircase.

“You fucking bitch. You had to do this the hard way.”

Just before she fell, she heard the front door slam open.

“Fiona!”

Bobby shoved her backwards. She was momentarily airborne before the hard edge of a step dug into her back.

Chase was here, but he was too late, she thought as she tumbled down the stairs.