Jethro could and had withstood torture by brutal enemies, and an angry brunette who looked like a model didn’t faze him. Even so, he understood her frustration. “We don’t even know this is really my brother, Detective. It could be someone who read about the Surgeon killings and is copying them, but targeting me instead of Angus.” It was most certainly Fletcher, and how he’d reached US soil without being detected would need to be investigated. His brother had always been brilliant, so his ability to elude the authorities wasn’t a shock. Unfortunately Jethro didn’t have the clearance to share what he knew about Fletcher with the DC detectives, no matter how much he might want to clue them in. “So I’d approach this like any homicide and look to see who’d want this particular person dead.”
Buckle stepped up into his face. “You study good and evil, right?”
“In a matter of speaking,” he said mildly, noting her lilac scent again.
“According to Dante, isn’t there a special place in hell for people who can make a difference but don’t?” Her brown eyes blazed.
“Not exactly, but possibly close. Virgil showed Dante a place for those who neither committed good nor evil. Both Heaven and Hell denied them entry, so they reside in the Ante-Inferno, chasing a blank banner and being attacked by insects. Neutral angels suffer eternally and painfully with them.”
If anything, her glare grew darker. “Aren’t you afraid of going there?”
He subtly angled his body to protect her better from the wind. “Detective, there are far more certain and excruciating rings of hell for me, I assure you.” He turned toward Tate, who was watching them impassively. “I’ve told you all I can for now. If you attempt to take me in, I’ll immediately call my attorney, who will immediately get me out. For now, I have finished with this discussion.”
Tate glared at him. “You know, you’re an interesting guy, Professor.”
“Do tell,” Jethro said, knowing what was coming.
“Yeah. We can trace your teaching career about four years back, but before that, nothing. I mean, we have your birth records and family statistics, and a record of you attending college, but then…nothing. It’s like you just fell off the face of the planet for years. Years and years,” Tate said,his voice low.
Detective Buckle nodded. “It’s so odd, especially considering the fact that your brother also disappeared after working so hard to become a lawyer. Excuseme. Barrister.”
Tate smiled, and the sight looked like a warning. “There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
Jethro gave his own smile of warning right back. “Your Shakespearean quote fails to apply to this situation, Detective. While I appreciate the attempt, I’d go a mite deeper with your research into philosophy if you want to uncover the true evil we have here in front of us.”
“Isn’t it within us?” Buckleasked smoothly.
He turned to look down at the woman, his leg aching from healed bullet holes and his back from several knife wounds. “That it is, Detective.”
* * * *
Thank goodness it was Friday. Gemma needed some time to gather her thoughts and figure out whether she was safe here. As she hurried toward the day care at the end of the day, she stopped cold at the sight of the shattered left rear window of her car. Her breath heated and she froze in place.
Jethro emerged from the front door of the day care with a box in his hands. “Gemma. Hey.” He paused and studied her, following her gaze to the back driver’s side window. “Bloody hell.” Quickly he moved toward her and shoved the box into her hands. “I heard there was a snowball fight earlier in the parking lot but didn’t catch wind of any damage. Morons.” He gently took the sleeve of her jacket to draw her toward the day care. “Go inside with Trudy and I’ll cover it the best I can.”
Snowball fight? Gemma numbly looked around the parking lot but just saw ice chunks and a couple of rocks. Was she losing her mind? Or was this another odd coincidence? Jethro thought it was and even had a reasonable explanation, but he was a nice professor who had no clue what it felt like to be hunted. “Um.”
He turned toward her.
She reacted instantly, flinchingaway from him.
He released her and stepped off the sidewalk to the parking lot. Even so, he was still taller than she. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze measured. “Did I drop a clanger, sweetheart?”
Heat flashed into her cheeks and she straightened, her brain late to the party. “What’s a clanger?”
The intensity of his gaze didn’t relent. “It’s a British expression. I feel like I scared you, and I don’t know how.What did I do?”
“Nothing.” She looked beyond him to the trees, searching for any sign that Monty was near. Wouldn’t she sense it if he was in the vicinity? Or was she letting her fear of him haunt her even now? When she was safe and many states away from him. “I need to fetch Trudy.” She looked down at the square box.“What is this?”
“Rum balls,” he said quietly, that knowing gaze sliding beneath her defenses. “Should we talk about your reaction to my sudden movement?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Ignoring his stare, she turned and hurried to open the door and move inside, her gaze seeking her daughter. When she spotted Trudy playing with blocks with another girl in the far corner, her heart finally started beating again.Trudy was safe.
Barb looked up from her task of tidying up the reading area. “Hi, Gemma. How are things?”
Freaking not great. “Wonderful.” Gemma plastered a smile into place. “But the back window of my car is broken. Was there a snowball fight in the parking lot earlier?”
Barb pushed books into place in the short bookshelf and stood, wincing as she stretched her back. “Yes. It was a loud one, too. Several hit the building, but the kids thought it was funny.” She ambled closer, wiping at red marker lines on her left hand. “When they were finished, I looked outside to check for damage, but I must’ve missed seeing your car window. I’m so sorry. Whatshould we do?”
