Kissing Trouble (20 page)

“No, we’re saving those for later,” Julie said. “We’re going to have lunch.”

Grumbling, the three children settled around the table, waiting as Julie put hotdogs and fries onto plates. The only sound came from Wendy as she scurried off her chair and hurried to the sliding doors to peer out at the gloomy yard. She pressed small hands to the glass and mashed her nose in after it.

“It’s never going to stop raining,” she whined. “We’re going to be stuck inside forever.”

Luis took the plates from Julie and set them on the table. “Realistically, that’s not possible,” he said. “It will stop raining eventually, or else the whole world would flood.”

“And we’d die!” Rick chimed in enthusiastically.

Wendy pulled away from the window, her eyes round. “Are we going to die?”

“No!” Julie said at once. “Of course not. It
will
stop raining ... eventually.”

“I hear this weekend will be beautiful,” Mason added, making himself at home in one of the chairs.

Wendy sighed heavily and turned back to the window. “This weekend is forever away.”

Leaving the girl to sulk, Julie helped Luis set the table for lunch.

“Julie?”

It was the pitiful squeak that caught Julie’s attention. The girl had scrambled away from the window, her face deathly pale, and she was staring at the glass like it had grown jagged fangs.

Wiping her hands on a dishrag, Julie hurried to where the girl stood. Mason followed.

“What’s that?”

Julie put a hand on the girl’s shoulder and pulled her back. Her gaze scanned the soggy yard, the gray heavens and the steady drizzle washing over everything.

“What?”

“There.” Wendy pointed at the white, steel handle that pulled the two sheets of solid glass apart.

Julie could see nothing for several seconds. But when she finally did, it was all she could see.

Mason cursed behind her, grabbed Wendy and pushed her towards the table where Dustin and Rick had scrambled out of their chairs, but were being restrained by Luis.

“Get the kids out of here!” Mason snapped as he wrenched open the doors and bolted out into the rain.

C
oming out of her daze, Julie ripped her eyes away from the stain on the glass and focused on Luis.

“Take them into the living room,” she ordered.

Luis nodded and herded three protesting children out the door. With him gone, Julie pivoted around to stare at the ghastly stain marring the handle.

On the other side, Mason met her gaze. The rain was soaking through his t-shirt, plastering it to his torso like a second skin. His hair hung damp around his set features. While she couldn’t think past the horror and fear, his expression was rigid and furious.

He ducked back into the room and slammed the rolling door shut behind him. “Was that always there?”

Trembling, Julie could only open and shut her mouth in response. She managed a shake of her head, more indecisive than anything else.

He studied the clear handprint wrapped perfectly around the white bar. Some of it had been nearly washed away by the rain, but there was still enough of it left behind to leave no doubt to what it was.

“I don’t understand what this means,” Julie said at last, finding her voice. “What ... what is it?”

“Someone was trying to get in,” he murmured.

“But what is it?” she cried. “Why is it red?”

Deep down, she knew exactly what it was. There were many shades of red in the world, but blood had a unique hue that could be mistaken for nothing else.

“Call the police,” Mason instructed firmly. “Tell them to get here quickly. Their evidence is about to wash away with the rain.”

Julie didn’t need to be told twice. She sprinted for the phone and was dialing when Shaun strolled into the room, duffle bag in hand.

“What’s going on?” He looked from Julie to Mason.

His bag made a thump when he dropped it down next to Luis’s by the door and joined Mason by the glass.

Mason told him, all the while pointing to the mark. Shaun said something that Julie couldn’t hear over the phone ringing in ear.

The dispatcher that picked up was a woman and as soon as Julie gave the address, her helpful tone changed to curt and dismissive. It infuriated Julie to the point that she almost cussed the woman out.

“Someone will be there in a few hours,”
the woman told her.

“That isn’t good enough,” Julie retorted. “It’s raining. The handprint won’t be there by the—”

“Look, unless there’s a body to go along with this bloody handprint, or there’s an ax wielding maniac outside the door, we have other people who need our help. We will get to you when we can.”

The line went dead before Julie could protest. She slammed the receiver down and growled in her throat.

“What happened?” Mason asked, coming to stand next to her.

“They’ll get here when they get here!” she snapped, mimicking the dispatcher’s tone. “This is unbelievable. I hate this place!”

“Hey.” Mason took her shoulders lightly and pulled her to him.

She let herself be cradled against his chest. She burrowed there, letting his warmth—and the dampness of his clothes—soak into her. Her eyes closed and mashed her face into his shoulder.

“It’s all right,” Mason murmured into her ear. His hand lightly stroked her hair. “This was probably just another stupid prank.”

“But that’s blood,” she whispered into the soft material of his shirt. She raised her head to peer into his face. “They were trying to get in.”

“But they didn’t,” he pointed out.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” she cried. “What if Wendy was right last night? What if she did see someone with a body?”

“I didn’t see anyone when I checked.”

“Why are you so calm about this?” she demanded, feeling her desperation melt into anger.

“Because there’s nothing I can do, except wait for the people in charge to do their job.”

“You know that’s not true.” Shaun stomped to the island. “We can do something.”

“No!” Mason rounded on him. “No, we swore we were done with that.”

“With what?” Julie asked.

“Getting even,” Mason answered. “I’m not doing that anymore. Our retaliation is what caused this. It’s why I can’t go into town, why the police refuse to do anything. I’m done with that.”

“It’s the only way to get respect!” Shaun argued. “Show those fuckers they can’t mess with us.”

Mason just shook his head. “No, I won’t.”

With a snarl, Shaun threw up his hands and stormed from the kitchen. They heard his boots pound against hardwood as he hit the hallway and disappeared upstairs.

Then there was silence broken only by the soft rush of rain hitting the roof and windows.

“Do you think I should hunt the person down and teach him a lesson?” Mason fixed her with his questioning gaze.

Julie shook her head even without thinking about it. “No.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied by her response. “I’m done with those days, Jewels. I’m not a little kid anymore. That’s not how I want to be known.”

She took his hand. “I know.”

The gesture seemed to surprise him. He lowered his face and surveyed their joined hands with interest. His head tipped to the side a moment before he twisted his wrist and threaded his fingers through hers.

“You should get ready,” she told him. “I think the rain’s going to pick up soon and you won’t be able to put the tent up if it gets too heavy.”

Her words penetrated whatever thought he appeared to be having. His head came up, his expression dogged. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Not after that.”

“But Shaun...”

“Let Shaun say whatever he wants. You’re more important than some stupid camping trip.”

Her heart jumped in her chest and she felt a warm trickle work its way up her body.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“For what?”

She lowered her gaze to the collar of his shirt. “For being relieved.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “That I’m not going?”

Julie nodded.

He chuckled, pulled her closer, and pressed a kiss just between her eyebrows, smoothing the wrinkles there. “I never wanted to go in the first place.”

With a short exhale, Julie leaned into him and closed her eyes.

T
he police didn’t arrive until two hours later. Sheriff Reynolds was at the head, wide brim hat collecting rain. He yanked it off and shook it once he was under the front porch awning. Behind him, two officers stood quiet and solemn, like they didn’t think this worthy of their time. One of them had a field kit on him.

Julie ignored their hard looks and widened the door for them to enter.

“Ms. Brewer.” Sheriff Reynolds stomped in first, knocking mud and dirt across the floor with his boots. “We heard you had a situation.”

Julie nodded. “Thank you for coming.”

No one said anything. Nor did anyone bother removing their boots as they followed her down the hall and into the kitchen.

Mason had pushed the patio umbrella against the window, using the fabric to block most of the rain from completely washing away the handprint. But still, most of it was already gone.

“What are we looking at, Ms. Brewer?” Sheriff Reynolds asked, his shrewd gaze moving over the wall of glass.

Either he was deliberately avoiding the fact that there was an umbrella against the window, or he thought that was normal.

“Right there.” Julie pointed straight at the handprint.

The two officers moved in, eyes squinting.

Sheriff Reynolds never budged. He twisted his frame around the officers and moved a short distance away, digging out his notepad.

“When did you discover the item in question?” he asked.

“A little after lunch,” she answered. “I was in the kitchen making cookies—”

“Why so late?” He tipped his head back and peered down the length of his nose at her. “We might have had more of a print if you had called us earlier.”

Her teeth creaked under the force of her gritting. “I didn’t notice it until that time. I called you immediately ... two hours ago.”

The sheriff tapped his pen on his open pad. “Miss. Brewer, do you know who the handprint belongs to?”

Julie frowned. “Of course not. I wouldn’t have called you if—”

He took an unexpected step forward, dropped his voice. “You can tell us if it was one of those boys,” he told her quietly, his gaze drilling into hers. “If they’ve threatened you—”

“They had nothing to do with this!” she snapped, jerking back. “We don’t know who did it.”

The officers were prying open the door and moving the umbrella aside to examine the print better.

“Ms. Brewer—”

“Sheriff,” she interrupted sharply. “Mason isn’t the kid he used to be. He’s trying to change his life. I think you should give him the benefit of the doubt.”

The sheriff seemed to consider this a moment while he studied her face.

“Ms. Brewer,” he said finally. “Do you know how long I’ve been doing this?” He didn’t wait for a response. “A damn hell of a long time. I have been shot, stabbed, and nearly run over more times than I can count. In this line of work, you don’t ever know what sort of person you’re going to come up against, but I have learned one thing. Do you know what that is, Ms. Brewer?”

Julie shook her head.

“That they never change their spots.” He searched her eyes a long moment before continuing. “They might claim they aren’t what they used to be, but trust me, they are always the same. Mason Brody and Shaun Ryan, hell, I’m surprised they’re not doing life in some maximum prison for being serial killers.”

Julie stared at him, appalled. “That’s a bit of a leap,” she said. “A few dumb kids pulling stupid tricks—”

“That’s how it starts, Ms. Brewer. A few stupid pranks, then they’re boosting cars, breaking into houses, and eventually ... murder.”

Julie sucked in a deep, calming breath. “Sheriff Reynolds, I grew up with Mason and Shaun, and believe me when I tell you, I have no love for Shaun. I might even think he’s the antichrist—” This got a snort from him. “—but I know Mason. He’s not capable of hurting anyone.”

The sheriff’s eyes widened. Then he burst into a fit of broken laughter, like his lungs weren’t used to it.

“Ms. Brewer.” He straightened, wiped a tear. “I can give you a list as long as I am of people Mason Brody has hurt.”

“I meant physically,” she muttered.

“Me too.” He glanced in the direction of his officers dusting and peeling prints off the glass, seemed to consider something, then looked back to her. “Ms. Brewer, I think you’re a decent person and I think you’re just trying to do your job and enjoy your summer with those kids, so I’m going to give you a bit of advice.” He folded his pad and tucked it and the pen into his breast pocket. “Leave and forget Mason Brody. You are in the middle of something you will never be able to control and you will get hurt.”

Julie swallowed hard. “Who is doing this and why can’t you stop them?”

He watched her with something akin to pity on his wrinkled face. “I would have to arrest the entire town. It would be the only way to stop this.”

She left him after that and moved to brew a fresh pot of coffee while the officers hovered around the glass.