Darker Than Midnight (18 page)

“Yeah. I know that. But you're my attorney. Tell them you're negotiating my surrender, okay? I just need a little time.”

“For what, Michael?”

He looked at his list. “I wrote you a letter from the state hospital a few weeks ago. Did you ever receive it?”

“No.”

River repeated the word, his eyes on Cassandra's. Her hunch had been right. Someone had intercepted the note and then sent a thug to kill him. Maybe. He shook off the knowledge and forced himself to go on. “I want you to get all my medical records. All of them, everything from the Vermont State Mental Hospital, what they've been giving me, what my diagnosis was. Everything Ethan Melrose has. And everything from before, when I was shot on duty in New York. I want them all delivered to your office. And I want you to have them gone over by the best psychiatrist you can find.”

Jax frowned at him, and River covered the mouthpiece. “Let's keep your dad's hands as clean as we can,” he explained. And she nodded.

“You think you've been misprescribed?” Brown asked.

“Yeah. And then some.”

“Is that why you killed the orderly?”

“He tried to kill me. I hit him in self-defense and he cracked his head on the toilet. I didn't mean to kill him. I have the knife with his prints on it. Since then I've learned he has a record, and was working under a false name.”

“What?”

“His real name is Edward Ferdinand Martin,” he said, reading it from the cheat sheet. “The state police know it. Check with them. It's the truth.”

“Damn.”

“Do I have any money left?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you gave me power of attorney over your assets when you went in. The only thing I've taken out is the monthly payment to the hospital. The account's still open, Michael.”

“I need some cash.”

“If I give you any, I could be disbarred.”

“It's my money.”

“I know.” There was a sigh. “Listen, I can send you some. Where are you staying?”

“I thought you were supposed to be on my side?”

“Hang up, River,” Cassandra said.

He met her eyes, nodded. “Get those records, get them checked. I'm telling you, someone's trying to kill me. You're my attorney. You have to look into this. I have an unimpeachable witness to this phone call. I end up dead, it's gonna be on your shoulders in a very public way.”

“All right. I'll do it. I will.”

River nodded. “I'll check in again in a couple of days. If I find anything on my end, I'll send it to you. You have a fax number?”

“Same as the office number, just change the last digit from a five to a four.”

River nodded. “Thanks. Don't let me down.” He hung up
the phone before the man could reply. Then he looked at Cassandra. “Think he'll do it?”

“He won't dare not do it. If there's a chance you're telling the truth and he fails to act and you end up dead, he could be in deep trouble.”

He nodded. “So that's done.”

“Yeah. That's done.” She nodded at him. “So, you ready to head home?”

He looked up at the sky, at the stars. He'd been imprisoned in a mental hospital for more than a year, out only long enough for the arduous trip to Blackberry, when he'd been too out of his mind to appreciate it, and cooped up inside her house ever since. “There's a park up the road a little ways. Should be deserted this time of night. You feel like taking a walk?”

“If you do.”

“I do,” he told her. “Let's go.”

* * *

The park was deserted, and Jax was glad. They followed the winding, paved path—well, she and River did. Rex wanted no part of a paved and shoveled path when there was perfectly good snow on either side. He loped ahead of them, made a giant loop and raced back, only to nip playfully at their hands as he passed them and did it all over again.

“He must be feeling cooped up in the house,” Jax said. “He's used to running pretty free.”

“I was starting to feel cooped up myself, and I haven't been running free in a long time.”

She nodded. “I had a feeling you were getting antsy.”

“How could you tell?”

She shrugged. “I would've been. I mean, it was one thing when you were weak and too sick to do much more than wiggle. But you're getting better now. Stronger. At least, since that one setback earlier.”

He nodded when she looked him in the eye for confirmation of that.

“So I couldn't see how you could spend all day in the house and not get a little itchy to be out. Hell, I was half-afraid I'd come home tonight and find you gone.”

“Were you?”

He was gazing at her a little intently. She narrowed her eyes and looked right back at him. “You doubt it?”

He shrugged. “Seems to me it might be a relief for you to come home and find me gone,” he said.

“Now why would you say that?”

“Oh, come on, Cassandra. I'm in your space, in your home, sick and damn near helpless most of the time—”

“That's passed.”

“—and my being there is putting your career in jeopardy. Maybe…maybe your life, too.”

She stopped walking, turned and looked up at him. “You're not a danger to me. Do you understand? You're not.”

He stood still a moment, staring down at her. The wind whispered through the trees around them, and she could taste snow on the air. River's hand rose slowly and came to her cheek. It rested there like a caress, then he pushed her hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear as if that had been his sole purpose in touching her. He started to take it away, but Jax covered it with her own, and held his eyes in turn.

“You're not a danger to me.”

He didn't move. Didn't move closer, to kiss her, as she was hoping he would, even while she thought it was probably the dumbest craving she could possibly have at the moment. But he didn't move away, either. He just stood there with his palm cupping her cheek, her hand covering his and his eyes probing hers. He didn't move.

So she did.

She leaned in, tipped her head up and pressed her mouth
to his. His lips were cool and soft, and they grew softer when hers touched them, relaxing and becoming pliable and then parting when he kissed her back. His hand slid from her cheek to her nape, while the other one wrapped around her waist to hold her closer. She twined one arm around his neck and used the other to clutch his shoulder, vaguely aware that her nails were sinking in like a cat's kneading claws.

She stopped feeling the cold wind when his mouth pushed hers open and his tongue traced her lips. Her hips arched against his as her entire body pressed closer, tighter. And he was reacting the same way, holding her more fiercely, kissing her more deeply, until he was bending her backward over his arm and she was holding on for dear life.

Rex barked, loudly and repeatedly, then wedged his head between their bodies in search of attention.

Jax opened her eyes to find River staring at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. He blinked, seemed to shake himself as he got his footing, lifting her upright again, holding her until he was sure she was steady.

“I d-didn't…” he stammered. “We shouldn't…”

She looked at him. “I know where you're going with that and you can just stop. You're not going to hurt me, River. You wouldn't.”

“Cassandra, I loved my wife.”

The words hit with a little more sting than they probably should have. She averted her eyes quickly to try not to let it show. “Hey, of course you did. Probably still do. That's not what this is about.”

“No. No, I'm not saying…” He took her arm. “Cassandra, what I mean is that I loved her and maybe I killed her, anyway.”

“You didn't.”

“But what if I did?”

“River, even a lunatic needs a motive. Come on, there was nothing. You were getting along, expecting your first baby.”

He shook his head. “Things were far from perfect.”

“Like how?” She turned, slipped her arm around his waist and started them walking back toward the car.

He sighed. “She hated living out here, for one thing. Just hated it. Too far from everything, too little to do, and then there was dealing with my blackouts and memory loss. It was a lot.” He lowered his head, shook it slowly. “She probably would have left me if it hadn't been for Ethan.”

Jax looked up quickly. “Ethan again, huh?”

River nodded. “I was already seeing him a couple of times a week. We managed to convince her to go, too. I think being able to open up, do a little venting about her frustration, helped a lot.”

Jax was studying his face as they walked. The salt that had been scattered on the paved trail to keep it free of snow crunched under her shoes. “River, why did you feel the need to see a therapist twice a week? You didn't have a mental problem.”

“No, but there was the stress. It was a lot to deal with. Enforced retirement, being basically disabled. The lost time I could never really get back. My uncertainty about my marriage. To tell you the truth, I was getting ready to let her go.”

“Let her go—you mean divorce her?”

He nodded. “She never would have left me. Too much guilt—abandoning her disabled hero-cop husband wasn't something Steph could have done. Ever. So I figured I'd let her off the hook. The therapy seemed to help her feel better about herself, but she just kept getting more and more distant from me. I really thought it was over. After all that time.”

“How long were you married?”

“Only seven years. But we were together a lot longer. Hell, ever since I figured out girls didn't smell bad, really.”

She made herself smile. “Childhood sweethearts?”

He shrugged. “Stephanie was every guy's dream girl back
then. She flitted from one of us to another like a little bird too full of energy to alight very long on one branch. Had us all pretty crazy before graduation. But I was the lucky one who ended up marrying her a couple of years later.”

Jax nodded. “So then, she knew Ethan, too?”

“Yeah. She knew him as long as I did. That made it easier, you know? Having Ethan and Victoria in Burlington made the transition from living in New York to living out here a little bit more bearable.”

“Victoria?” Jax asked.

River nodded. “Ethan's wife. She's a sweetheart.”

Blinking, Jax said, “He's still with her, then?”

“Hell, as far as I know. Why?”

“Just curious.” She lowered her eyes. “So what happened then? After things were looking so grim for you and Stephanie?”

He gave a sad, wistful smile. “Everything changed. She came to me one night, told me she was pregnant, and that we were starting over, she and I. She said she was determined to make our marriage work, even apologized for letting it get so far off track.”

Jax watched the emotions cross his face as he spoke. She saw worry, and then heartbreak, and then joy and relief all chase each other through his eyes. “I thought everything was going to be all right. And then the next thing I know, the damn house is burning, and for some reason she's inside, and I'm out on the lawn with a freaking gasoline can at my feet and gas all over my hands.”

Jax nodded slowly. “And matches, right?”

He looked at her.

“You had matches. Or a lighter or something.”

“No.”

“No? Not even in your pockets?”

“No.”

“Or on the ground nearby?”

“Doesn't prove anything, Cassandra. I could have tossed them into the fire after I set it.”

“Seems like if you'd done that, you'd have tossed the gas can, too. But you didn't. It doesn't make a lot of sense, does it, River? I mean, you're not a smoker—weren't then, were you?”

“No.”

“How did you get outside?” she asked.

He seemed to search his memory. “I couldn't sleep. Went out for a walk. At some point, I must have blacked out.”

“Um-hmm. So when you went out for that walk you wouldn't have had matches or a lighter on you. And it was on the walk that you blacked out. So where did you get the gas? Where did you get the matches? And where did they go?”

He blinked slowly. “I don't know.”

She nodded, drew a deep breath. “The wing that burned…I understand it was guest rooms, mostly.”

“And a big family room, and a two-car garage,” he stated.

“So what was your wife doing in that wing? Where was she when you left her for your walk?”

He frowned. “In our bedroom. The one at the top of the stairs.”

“So what made her get up and go into the other part of the house?”