forward to with Nicole.
“Come see us off, son,” Elaine said, slipping her arm around her husband.
Nodding, Jake followed the trio out of the kitchen. As they started down the stairs, he said, “Call and let me know what room you’re in when you get settled.”
“We will, and you call and tell us what happened with Joey when the boys get back,” his mother ordered firmly.
“If you get the hotel switchboard telling you we are unavailable, we are probably sleeping,” Roberto commented. “It is well past our bedtime now and I am not sure how long we will be up.”
Jake nodded. It was just after noon and he wouldn’t mind a couple winks himself. He’d wait until the twins were back though and could keep an eye on Nicole for him. She was the only one of them who had slept last night.
“Perhaps later tonight we could meet for dinner,” his mother suggested as they stepped off the stairs. “It would be nice to sit down for a meal with you again.”
Jake felt guilt pinch at him. His mother sounded so wistful. The last seven years had obviously been hard on her. Probably the last forty had been hard on her, he acknowledged. His pulling away from the family to hang out on the fringes when he’d found out what they were at eighteen had probably hurt her terribly. He wished now that he’d reacted differently. But he couldn’t go back and change history.
Pausing at the front door, Jake turned and gave her a big, hard hug. “I’m sorry, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too . . . and always have,” she whispered and there were tears in her eyes when he released her and stepped back.
“The past is the past,” Roberto said gruffly, hugging Jake now himself, and thumping his back. “We are just glad to have you back. We love you, son.”
“Thank you,” Jake said solemnly. “I love you too . . . Dad.”
Roberto hugged him more tightly and then stepped back, swiping at his eyes. Jake wasn’t surprised to find his own eyes misting. Roberto was the only father he’d ever had, or at least the only one he recalled with any clarity. His birth father was just a picture he’d been shown, and stories he’d been told. The only father he remembered was Roberto, and he’d been a good dad. While he’d offered discipline and direction when necessary, he had also given abundant love and affection. But Jake had refused to call him father since his eighteenth birthday.
“Well, now that you have Mom and Dad blubbering away . . .” Neil said dryly, stepping up next to hug him. “I’m glad you’re ready to come back into the fold. I’ve missed my big brother.”
“I’ve missed you too,” Jake assured the younger man and knew it was true. Even at his angriest, he’d missed having Neil, his parents, and the rest of the family there in his life . . . and he’d done it to himself. Shaking his head, he gave Neil’s back a pat as they parted. “I’ll call when I hear anything.”
“Call my cell,” Neil said. “I’ll answer.”
“Oh hey,” Jake said as that reminded him. “Do you want my cell-phone number?”
“I have it,” Neil assured him and when he looked surprised, grinned. “What? You didn’t think we’d keep tabs on you? I’ve known where you were and what you were doing since you left. Jackie is a very good detective.”
Jake chuckled and shook his head. “Right.”
“Later bro,” Neil said smiling, and then turned to follow their parents to the car waiting in the driveway.
Jake watched until the car had started and pulled out onto the road, and then gave a wave and closed and locked the door. He considered going to check on Nicole, but cowardice reared its head and he decided he’d wait until he had her lunch ready first. The smell of it might—
Jake sniffed the air. He thought he’d caught a whiff of something burning, but it was gone now and he couldn’t think what—
“Crap!” he muttered and rushed for the stairs as he recalled he’d put the soup and sandwiches back on the burner and then left them there to see his family out.
That whiff came again and stayed this time as he got halfway up the stairs, but it was the smoke he could see billowing out of the kitchen when he reached the top of the stairs that really alarmed him. Hell, he was burning down the bloody house!
Jake charged into the kitchen, relieved to see that there wasn’t actually a fire. The grilled cheese was producing all the smoke. Grabbing the pan, he whirled and stuck it in the sink and turned the tap on, and then whirled back to the soup pan, which was boiling over onto the burner. Jake automatically grabbed that as well to throw in the sink, only to curse and drop it when the handle burned his hand. It hit the floor with a loud clang, sending tomato soup flying in every direction.
“Damned metal handles,” he muttered, grabbing paper towel off the counter and bending to the mess he’d made. He swiped up a good portion of the orange-red mess, tossed the sopping paper towel in the garbage and started to reach for more, but changed his mind and stood to hurry to the sliding glass doors instead. The air was thick with smoke and the stench of burnt food. His eyes were beginning to burn and water. He needed to air out the room.
God, he hoped Nicole stayed in her studio for a while, Jake thought as he unlocked and opened the sliding glass doors. He hoped he hadn’t completely destroyed her pot and pan too. And he guessed he wasn’t feeding her tomato soup and grilled cheese.
Grimacing, Jake left the door open and moved back to finish cleaning up the mess. He then picked up the much cooler pan and examined it as he set it in the sink. It was a mess, the soup a blackened mess on the bottom of the pan, but he thought he might be able to clean it off. Maybe. As for the frying pan . . . Jake grimaced as he examined it. The Teflon on the bottom was discolored. He’d put the heat on too high.
Sighing, he set the plug in place in the sink so it would fill with water and dumped some soap in, then caught the floating, blackened sandwiches and tossed those.
He’d have to figure out something else to feed her, Jake thought. But first he needed to change. The soup had splashed all over, catching even his top, but really getting his jeans good. Grimacing, he started out of the kitchen, but then paused and turned back to turn off the tap. Causing a flood on the heels of the first calamity would have been impressive, he thought grimly, and shook his head as he left the kitchen.
Seventeen
Nicole paced to the end of her studio and back, and then did it again . . . and again. She really didn’t know what else to do. She was angry, and restless and frustrated. She was mad because it seemed someone
Was that just a coincidence? Or had he poisoned the hot tub before leaving that night? He might have already planned to poison the hot tub and had the poison with him, or her mentioning planning to use it might have made him run into town when he left here, purchase whatever poisons it was that had been used, and drive back, park up the road and walk to the house in the dark to dump the poison in. There were no streetlights out here and the houses were a good distance apart; each sat on a plot of land of at least two acres. No one would have noticed him.
As for the car, Nicole hadn’t mentioned it to Jake, but Joey was pretty handy with cars. He’d bought and restored old ones since he was a teenager. He could have tampered with her SUV.
Sighing, Nicole dropped onto her daybed/couch and closed her eyes briefly. She could hardly be angry at Jake and his family for suspecting her brother when she suspected him too. And she wasn’t really angry at them. She was just angry in general, or maybe angry at herself. What was it about her that the men who were supposed to love her, treated her so shabbily? Her husband had professed to love her and then had abused her and screwed
