Yeah, same. “They’ve been in the mailbox every few days since that first court date. Never got one before that.”
“I guess that explains your obsession with installing a new security system.”
“Your kidnapping played a role in that, too. Xavier was more prepared here. This place is like a fort. I have it armed. The motion sensors and locks are set.” If I could add a second alarm system to back up the first, I would. After the police detail stopped coming, I might. “You’re lucky I haven’t planted a tracker on you.”
He frowned. “Did you?”
I’d been tempted. “It’s probably illegal to do that, so no.”
He rolled his eyes at me. For the first and only time in my life, I loved the gesture. It was oddly comforting to see something as normal as hisyou’re annoying mesignal.
He reached across the counter and snatched a piece of the apple I’d cut earlier. “What do the notes say?”
The question came with a jolt. “I figured you read them.”
“And ignore years of lectures about privacy?” He finished off the apple piece and snorted. “I don’t actually have a death wish.”
Didn’t love that phrase but my love for him, dramatic gestures included, formed an endless well that got fed and grew more powerful every day. He’d passed from kid to adult while I was busy serving Daniela and her predecessor’s pastries to strangers. He even looked like a man now. Sturdy and sure. Tall,confident, and ready to take on the world. He still made some ridiculous decisions and likely would for a few more years as his maturity raced to catch up with his big brain, but our dynamic had shifted.
One day soon he might look to someone else for assurance and answers. A partner. An equal. I’d cycle through happiness and regret because that’s the way it worked with parents. You set your kids free, then missed what once was as you adjusted to all you’d gained. My protector instincts remained as strong as ever, and the idea of easing my hold sounded impossible after the last week, but he deserved to know about some of the pieces of life I’d shielded from him.
“I can show you.” I held out my hand and he dropped the envelopes in it.
I removed the cards. Placed them on the kitchen island for him to read. A disjointed group of mismatched sentences that all pointed to the same thing—a warning of things to come.
Jeremy read them. His puzzled expression matched the confusion that had been twisting in my mind since the first one arrived.
He made an odd sound. “From Aubrey?”
Hearing him say her name ripped through my brain like a hot blade. I wasn’t ready to stop shielding him from her yet, but I needed to be tactful. Like it or not, Aubrey and Jeremy were related, a fact that might keep me on edge for the rest of my life. “I think the one note is a warning about her.”
“True, but the reference to the woman you shouldn’t trust could be any woman in your environment. Stella didn’t sound too friendly yesterday.”
I almost texted her today to check on her and decided she’d rather not hear from me.
“What about this note?” He held up an envelope. An unopened envelope.
Not again. “Where did that come from?”
“The one police guy brought it in with the mail. Seeing it made me think about the other envelopes on the desk.” Jeremy shrugged. “He said they checked for packages first. He also offered to open it or x-ray it. You used to tell me it was illegal to snoop in other people’s mail, so I said no.”
I spent Jeremy’s entire life running to the mailbox first just in case Xavier sent a note or a letter... or legal documents came. I picked the envelope out of Jeremy’s hand and broke the seal. I didn’t bother to hide the contents. He was in this now.
Not a short sentence this time. More than one line.
Every gift had a purpose. Every move was a step in unmasking the killers. Do as you’ve always done and keep him safe but end this like I should have.
Thehimhad to be Jeremy, which meant the author must be Xavier. He was the only one who knew about the fountain. He was the only person, other than me, who would worry about Jeremy’s safety. He’d reached out from the grave and dubbed me investigator and bodyguard.
I said the conclusion out loud. “Xavier.”
Jeremy didn’t look shocked or confused. “Okay, but how? He’s dead.”
“I have no idea.” I’d never said a truer statement.
Jeremy rearranged the notes. Tried to put them into a coherent paragraph on the counter. When that didn’t work he studied them. He kept at it for a few seconds, then glanced at me. “It sayskillers. Plural.”
“Potentially two people to be tracked down.” More danger. Peril slamming into me—to us—from every angle.
