The Acceptance

Luther didn’t buy that. He ran a hand over his head, a little pained, a lot disgusted. Hands on his hips, he turned away from her to stare at the bodies. “You were right.”

“About what?”

“He’s not a boy.”

“Well, duh.” Gaby shook her head. “He’s not even a he.”

“How did you know?” Luther flexed his jaw in frustration. “You were so certain about it, when no one else knew. So how did you know?”

Time to tread carefully. Gaby tried for a look of indifference. “He’s the same kid I saw in my area way back when, that’s how.”

“Before Lucy was taken?”

“Yeah. You remember. You asked me why I was chasing him, and I told you then that I didn’t know for sure.”

“But you knew that he—strike that—she was suspect even then?”

Gaby didn’t like where the questions were leading. “He/she looked too clean-cut and uppity to be hanging out in my neck of the woods, that’s all. I just sensed that something was off.”

“And as always, you were right.”

“Lucky me.” She, too, glanced at the body. “You know,” she said softly, “she prefers to be addressed as he.”

“He is dead, so what does it matter what he prefers?”

It didn’t, not really. But still . . . She glared at him for confusing her more. “Look, Luther, it was him and his two twisted relatives there—”

“How do you know they’re relatives?”

Good grief. Would he grab on to her every word trying to find plot holes?

Trying for a patience she didn’t possess, Gaby inhaled. “Okay, here’s how it went down. Are you paying attention?”

Luther stiffened. “Just spit it out.”

“They—the warped relatives—stuck you with the drug before they got to me, so you probably don’t remember as much as I do. But before that, before they drugged me, I heard a lot. The lady who likes to impersonate a boy is called Oren, and the other two are his aunt and uncle.”

“You actually have memory of all that?”

“I guess you don’t, huh?” Gaby patted his arm in bogus sympathy. Poor Luther, he hated the loss of details, his weak grasp on the happenings. “The uncle injected you first. You got in one good hit that knocked him down, but it was too late—the drug was already in you and doing its thing. While I was moving to help you, the loony aunt stuck me, not just once, but a bunch of times.”

Luther paled. “Show me.”

Why not? Gaby turned and lifted her shirt.

“Jesus, Gaby.” Gentle fingertips smoothed over her skin. “She did a number on you.”

“Yeah. But I clocked the bitch in the nose, which is how it got broken. I’d have done more, but then I passed out and the rest is as much a mystery to me as it is to you.” She lowered her shirt again.

“You need to be checked.”

“Forget that, cop. I’m fine.”

Concern warmed his face. “It’s important that we both go—”

“Ha.” Gaby shoved away his hands. “You might have to follow orders, but I don’t.” To keep him from getting pissed again, Gaby changed the subject. “Do you realize that this room is exactly as Bliss described it?”

Sickened by it all, Luther nodded. “I imagine all dens of torture look similar. It’s a grisly sight.” His gaze locked on hers. “You don’t seem bothered by it though.”

Gaby forced a shudder. “Yeah, it’s creepy.” She slugged him in the shoulder. “Thank God you played hero and took care of them, huh? If it wasn’t for you, we’d probably both be—”

Luther squashed a finger over her lips. “No.” He lightened his touch, caressed her lips. “Save it, okay?”

“Um . . . what does that mean?” Gaby prayed that he wouldn’t start doubting her rendition of things. She wasn’t up to full disclosure. Not yet.

Probably not ever.

“You’ll have to tell it again at the station. There’s no reason to go over it all now.”

“Oh.”

He looked tender, forbearing, and pained.

How should she interpret all that?

Luther put an arm around her shoulders. “There’s no reason for us to stay down here. Let’s go get some fresh air.”

Because he looked like he needed it, Gaby agreed. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

Ann was at the other side of the room with two other detectives. Luther walked over to her. “We’ll be out front if anyone needs us.”

She surveyed him with a critical eye. “I’d prefer you head on to the hospital to get checked out.”

“I’m feeling better by the minute.”

“We need to be safe. You can’t remember anything, and what if it isn’t a drug? What if you have a concussion?”

“I wasn’t hit in the head.”

“All right, fine.” She tried a different tack. “It wouldn’t hurt to get a blood sample, just in case the drug is still in your system.”

“I guess it can’t hurt. I am still sluggish and a little on the queasy side. If you want to line up someone to drive me, I’ll go.”

“I’ll have Sergeant Faulkner take you. If the doc gives you the okay, you can come back then. God knows we’re going to be here awhile.”

After that agreement, they both looked at Gaby.

She frowned. “What?”

Luther gave her a suspicious once-over. “It’s odd, given how I feel, that you don’t seem at all adversely affected by the drugs.”

So now she recovered too quickly? Nitpicking jerk. “I guess I’m hardy, huh?”

Ann’s expression pinched. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it, Gaby.” She shared a look with Luther. “Go on outside. The stench in here is enough to try even the hardiest stomach. Sergeant Faulkner will be right with you.”

Once they reached the steps, Gaby nudged Luther. “When Ann first got here, she spent a lot of time clinging to you.”

“She’s a friend, and she knew I could have died. That’s all there is to it.”

“She’s a really touchy-feely friend, isn’t she?”

Luther sat with a groan, not giving her concerns much attention. “You were offended by it?”

“No. I know she’s got a thing with Morty.” She joined him on the top step. The clear, star-studded sky blanketed the area. It amazed Gaby that a night so beautiful could shadow such evil. “From what Ann said, I guess they’ll be here for a long time?”

Luther leaned into a post. “Maybe all night. It’s important to collect evidence in the proper way. They’re hoping to tie the other deaths to this scene. Even in the worst situations, it’s good to give victims closure.”

“With all that blood and stuff in there, that shouldn’t take long.”

“They’ll get search warrants and go through the whole house.” Luther paused. “You know, it’s possible they might find more bodies inside.”

“They won’t,” Gaby said, before she thought to censor herself. She made haste to cover her error. “Oren was too cagey for that. I have no doubt he’s killed others, but they’re dumped somewhere, someplace where they might not ever be found.”

Just then, several men brought out the plastic-wrapped corpses to transport to the county morgue.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?”

Luther watched her through the darkness. “What is?”

“The house is so beautiful—and it hid the basest evil imaginable. If you ask me, they should burn this place to