Reunion (22 page)

Laura walked to the windows, staring intently into the late afternoon shadows spreading across the grounds, trying to find another glimpse of the woman she’d seen in the roses. And yet the harder she tried, the more certain she became that she wouldn’t see her again—hadn’t really seen her before—that what she’d seen had been nothing more than a lingering memory of the woman to whom the roses belonged.

Matty brushed the flour off her chest and gave a delicate sniff as she returned to her tasks.

But Laura wasn’t ready to drop the subject, at least not yet. “Matty, may I ask you something?”

“Sure, sure,” Matty said. She handed Laura a soft drink and a smile. “Sit here,” she said, pointing to a stool at the end of the work island.

Laura sat, sipping at her Coke and trying to think of the best way to ask what she wanted to know.

Matty dusted a cutting board with flour and then began rolling out dough.

“So, ask,” she said.

Laura took a deep breath. “Gabriel’s mother…”

Matty paused and looked up. “Angela. She was named right. An angel on earth, that one.”

Laura nodded. “What did she look like?”

Matty smiled. “Oh, she was a pretty thing, but the boys…Gabriel and Garrett…didn’t look a thing like her. You know how dark Gabriel is…all that olive skin, dark hair and green eyes. He looked more like my people than he did his own.”

Completely caught up in the past, Matty giggled and pointed to herself. “People used to think Gabriel was my grandson.” She sighed. “Sometimes I pretended that it was so.”

She lifted a pan from the cabinet below and began laying the rolled crust inside. “We guessed they got their coloring from their daddy’s side of the family, although no one could be sure.”

She lowered her voice. “Mr. Brent was an orphan, you know. He never knew who his people were.” Then she frowned. “Sometimes I think he felt guilty about Garrett, believing that the part that crippled one of his sons must have come from him. Angela was a real blue-blood. She could trace her family all the way back to the Revolution. They were convinced that the fault in Garrett lay with some unknown from Brent’s background.”

And then she shook off the mood. “But you asked about Angela, didn’t you?”

Laura nodded, then glanced over her shoulder once more, just to make sure. There was no one in sight. Matty smiled and changed mental gears.

“She wasn’t much taller than me, but she had the sweetest face and the prettiest smile. Her hair, when she was young and before it began to turn gray, was a golden brown. She called it puppy brown. Brent said it looked like warm honey. They were so in love.”

Blinking back tears, she looked up and then sighed. “As bad as I hated to lose them, I have to say it gave me some comfort to know that they’d gone on together. I can’t imagine one of them living without the other.”

Laura pointed over her shoulder. “The rose garden…it was hers, right?”

Matty nodded. “Oh, yes. She spent most of her time there each day, pruning and snipping and babying those things like they were people.”

She paused, wiping her hands as she went toward the window near where Laura was sitting and peered out.

“See how the gardens are divided up into sections?”

Laura nodded.

Matty’s eyes narrowed. “She loved them all, but one of them was her favorite. Some days she would be out there for hours.” She leaned closer to the windows. “Let’s see…I think it was—”

“It was the farthest one, wasn’t it?” Laura asked. “The one with the wishing well and the wagon wheel used for a trellis.”

Matty nodded. “Yes, that’s the one.” And then a thought occurred. “But how did you know?”

Laura turned. “Matty?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you seen her?”

“Seen who?” Matty asked.

“Angela. Have you seen her here…since she…”

Matty rolled her eyes and made the sign of the cross. “Do not speak of such things! It is bad luck!”

There was something in the tone of Matty’s voice that told Laura she was lying.

“Have you?” she asked, and then turned and stared out across the lush grounds. “I did…just a few minutes ago. At first I thought it was you.”

Matty grew quiet as her eyes widened in fear. “Well…maybe I thought…” And then she shook off the notion. “But I was mistaken,” she said quickly. “Angela Connor was a saint on earth. I know she is with God.” Her voice broke. “I have to believe she is with God.”

Laura stood and put her arms around Matty’s shoulders. “Sometimes I sense a lingering sadness in this house…Other times the place feels full of love. She was a good mother. If her spirit still lingers, maybe she’s just waiting for Garrett to come home.”

Matty shuddered. Unlike the fears she’d been having on her own, the idea made sense. Both Brent and Angela would have been heartbroken over what had happened to Garrett. Maybe Laura was right.

“Were you afraid of Angela Connor in life?” Laura asked.

Matty shook her head. “Oh, no, never!”

“Then why would you fear her sweet spirit?”

Matty stilled. She’d never thought of it like that. She looked at Laura and began to smile.

“You’re right,” she said softly, and hugged Laura tight. “You’re absolutely right.”

A door slammed in the front of the house.

“Gabriel’s home,” Matty said, and gave her eyes a quick swipe as she hustled back to her dough.

“Are you going to be all right?” Laura asked.

Matty nodded, shooing her away. “Of course I’m all right. Go head off that man before he finds his way into my kitchen and eats up all of my baking.”

Laura left, her mood still pensive as she headed toward the front of the house. She could hear Gabriel calling.

“I’m here,” she shouted, and impulsively started to run.

When she saw him, she gave a small leap. He caught her in midair, laughing and hugging her and turning her around and around until they were both staggering and dizzy.

Gabriel put her down reluctantly, still pressing kisses all over her face. “A man could get used to a welcome like that,” he growled.

“And if you got used to it, then what?” she asked.

Suddenly the laughter stopped. There was too much riding on the answer for either one to crack jokes. Gabriel tugged on a loose curl at the side of her cheek.

“I’m afraid to make promises I won’t be able to keep.”

Laura started to look away, but he cupped her cheek, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “It isn’t that I don’t want to make promises, but right now, I can’t count on anything but living in the moment. Until Garrett is safe, no one is safe. Understand?”

“More than you know,” she said.

It hit him then what she meant. Just looking at her now and realizing what Garrett could unintentionally do made him sick. His stomach knotted. My God, how could he live, knowing his own brother had killed the woman he loved? He pulled her close.

“I’ve got to get you out of this house—out of this city. Until Garrett is found, you’re not safe.”

Laura knew he was right, but there was no way on earth she could leave him. Not now.

“Until Garrett is found, no one is safe,” she argued. “Besides, maybe I can help.”

Gabriel frowned, resisting the urge to shake her. “Laura, please. Get on the first plane home tomorrow. When this is all over, I will come to you, I swear.”

She pulled out of his grasp and walked toward the windows.

“Damn it, Laura, didn’t you hear a single thing I said?”

“I heard you.”

Gabriel sighed. “What are you doing? Are you expecting someone?”

She turned. “Maybe…maybe not. At any rate, I can’t leave, even if I wanted to.”

“Why the hell not?” he muttered.

She looked back out the windows. “I have to help Garrett find his way home.”

He was so stunned by what she said that for a moment he couldn’t think. When he finally reacted, it was out of dismay. “What do you mean,
you
have to help? Why does it have to be you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, it just does.”

Gabriel threw up his hands in disgust. “Who said?”

Matty called from the end of the hall, interrupting their argument and changing the conversation, for which Laura was glad. There was no way she was going to tell Gabriel what she had seen, or, for that matter, what had been happening ever since she arrived.

“Gabriel…Laura…I’m leaving now,” Matty called.

Gabriel shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks, gave Laura a glare, and then strode down to the end of the hall to bid Matty goodbye. Laura took advantage of the situation to bolt for her room. But Gabriel wasn’t through. The moment Matty closed the door behind her, he went up after her.

She spun as her door slammed against the wall. It was Gabriel.

“You listen to me,” he growled. “I don’t want you—”

Laura pretended a calm she didn’t feel and glanced at her watch. “We’re supposed to meet Kirby Summers at six. That’s a little bit less than an hour. Can you make it?”

A little confused as to where the conversation was going, he frowned and thrust out his jaw. “He didn’t call me.”

Laura’s voice was muffled as she pulled a clean shirt over her head.

“I didn’t hear you,” Gabriel said, as he yanked it the rest of the way down for her.

“I said,” Laura repeated, “he didn’t call us. I called him.”

Gabriel frowned. “Whatever for?”

“I need to see the evidence they have on the murders, and he wanted me to come down and look at some pictures. So it’s time.”

He blanched. “Whatever for?”

“Maybe it will help us find Garrett.”

Gabriel erupted. “Damn you, Laura! Have you lost your mind? You haven’t been listening to anything I’ve been saying. I don’t want you more involved in this mess. I want you out of it entirely.”

Laura flew back at him, giving as angrily as she’d been forced to take.

“And damn
you,
Gabriel. You haven’t been listening to me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you, and I’m not leaving Garrett. When your uncle Mike called me to come help you, I thought he was crazy, and I was certain I was nuts for considering the trip. I had no expertise to help you work through your problems. I deal in the intangible, not in ill health. But I knew the moment I talked to him that I had to come. I trusted my instincts that it would eventually be revealed.” She thought of Angela, of hearing sobs in her dreams, of hearing footsteps in the hall, and of seeing her walking in the garden. “There was a reason I was meant to come here, and now I know what it is. There will never be peace in this house again until Garrett Connor comes home.”

I
t was thirty minutes after six when they pulled into the OSBI parking lot. Kirby Summers was leaning against his car, obviously waiting for their arrival.

Laura nodded as they got out of the car. “Sorry we kept you waiting.”

Kirby shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. After the day I’ve had, this is a piece of cake.” He led the way back inside and then up to his office. “So, what’s the big deal?”

“Don’t look at me,” Gabriel said. “This is her call.”

Laura didn’t bat an eye. “You wanted me to look at some pictures, remember? I’ll do it—if you’ll let me see all the evidence. I need to see the evidence on the Prince Charming murders.”

Kirby grinned. “That’s a good one.” But when no one else laughed, he paused. “You’re not serious?”

She nodded.

“Aside from the fact that it’s highly irregular, why would you want to see pictures of dead bodies and a map full of pins?”

“To find Garrett.”

The grin slid off his face. “You can do that?”

Laura shrugged. “Please.”

He turned away from the desk and led them into a small room nearby.

There were pictures on the walls, and more pictures on the table. Laura scanned the photos of the crime scenes with a practiced eye. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen things like this. It wouldn’t be the last.

Tucking a curl behind her ear, she began with victim number one and started looking at photos. Every now and then, she would reach out and touch one. When she did, she would close her eyes rather than focus on the picture. By the time she got to the last victim’s photo, she was swaying on her feet.

Gabriel was worried, but even more, he was angry. “Damn it, Laura, this isn’t going to—”

It was as if Gabriel hadn’t even spoken. She interrupted suddenly, getting Kirby’s attention by pointing to victim number one.

“The stereo. It was too loud.”

She moved to the second victim’s photo.

“It was the dog whistle. They found it lodged down the victim’s throat, didn’t they?”

Kirby was stunned. “How did you know that?” he muttered. “It wasn’t in the papers.”

She didn’t answer and instead moved to victim number three. “Here it was the dog that died first. He had to stop the sound of the dog barking.”

The skin crawled on the back of Gabriel’s neck. He remembered that dog—its obnoxious, high-pitched yap. He dropped into a nearby chair. Poor Stevie. He must have gotten in the way.

“What about this one?” Kirby asked, pointing to the homeless woman they’d found in an alley. “She didn’t have a dog. She didn’t have a stereo. In fact, she didn’t own a damn thing that someone else hadn’t thrown out first.”

Laura shook her head. “You’re still missing the point. Garrett isn’t trying to kill these people, he just has to stop the pain. Noise hurts him. Not a little, not even somewhat, but in a way that short-circuits his brain. It’s not something he can help, and enduring it is impossible.”

Kirby slapped the wall beneath the photo of Bella Cruz. “Then what?” he shouted. “What did she do that caused her to die?”

Laura glanced up at the photo, her gaze moving past the woman’s body to the train tracks just visible in the background.

“The woman was just standing in the wrong place. It was a train whistle. It screeched. When Garrett went crazy, she screamed. I think it all gets jumbled up in his mind.”

Kirby swore beneath his breath. “And number five?”

She pointed to a smaller shot below the one of Henry Loo’s body to his vandalized car.

Gabriel stared at the dents in the car body for less than five seconds before it dawned on him, too.

“Car alarm,” he said softly, glancing at Laura for confirmation.

She nodded.

Kirby threw up his hands. “This is crazy. Are you telling me that this man could go off at any moment like a two-dollar bomb?”

“He has…and unless we find him soon, he will again,” Laura said, and then moved to the map on an opposite wall. She looked for a few moments and then turned to Kirby.

“These pins represent where the bodies were found, right?”

“Yes, for all the good it does us,” Kirby said. “So far, we haven’t found a pattern that would tell us anything.”

But Laura saw a pattern, and it was just as she feared.

Gabriel saw her tense. She saw something the rest of them were missing. His hands were firm upon her shoulders as he lowered his head, his voice soft against her ear.

“What is it, baby? What do you see?”

She wanted to throw herself in his arms and not turn loose until all this was over. But she couldn’t. She’d come here for a purpose, and she wasn’t leaving until they believed her, one hundred percent.

“Look,” she said, pointing to a location near a pin flagged, Victim Number One. “Gabriel, isn’t that the hospital where you were staying?”

“Yes, Saint Anthony’s,” Gabriel said.

Laura was talking, but more to herself than to the men. “That’s only a few blocks from where the first victim died.”

Gabriel stilled, his mind already racing ahead to the point Laura was trying to make to Kirby.

“Victim number two was found in Johnson Park, right?”

Kirby nodded, following the direction in which Laura kept pointing. “Yes, but I don’t see—”

“You will,” she said. “Victim number three was Mrs. Husser’s houseman, right?”

Kirby nodded.

“Did you know that she was one of Gabriel’s clients, and that he’d been there that very day before Stevie died?”

Kirby reached for his notes. “Uh…I think we knew that.”

Laura continued to point, moving her finger across the map to the place where Bella Cruz had died.

“This alley is in a direct line between Sadie Husser’s home and the restaurant where Henry Loo died.”

Kirby stared. “Yes, we’d seen that, but there was no connection between—”

“Oh, but I believe there is,” Laura said. “Henry Loo was one of Gabriel’s clients, too. At least, he would have been, if he hadn’t died.”

Kirby spun around, staring at Gabriel as if he’d been struck.

“You? He’s following you?”

“We think so,” Gabriel said. “At least, Laura thinks so, and I’m beginning to believe she’s right.”

Kirby’s mind was racing. “So you’re saying that all we have to do is put a tail on you and stake out the places you’ve been?”

“No,” Laura said. “It’s easier than that.” She picked up a new pin and stuck it in a spot on the map.

Kirby took a step closer and adjusted his glasses, trying to read the small print.

“I’ll save you the bother,” Gabriel said. “That’s my home. Laura thinks Garrett has locked on to me as a means of finding home.”

“That’s absurd,” Kirby muttered. “There’s no such thing as a psychic link to—” He flushed, too late, remembering what Laura Dane was all about.

She grinned. “It’s not really a psychic link. It’s more like a special connection that identical twins often have with each other. I don’t know…maybe Garrett’s ability is stronger than normal to compensate for his lack of communication skills in other ways. Gabriel didn’t have the same ability, or he would have realized years ago that he had a twin, and Garrett never had the need to communicate with Gabriel earlier, because his parents obviously filled the need for whatever love Garrett was capable of accepting.”

Kirby stared at Gabriel, trying to imagine what such a thing would be like.

“But all that ended when my parents died,” Gabriel said. “Then Garrett was removed from Reed House, probably against his will.” He shrugged. “I guess the only thing he had left was instinct. Once I started coming out of the coma, he tuned in on me.”

Kirby picked up a file and flipped it open before tossing it on the table.

“That’s the administrative head of Reed House. We got her today on possession.”

Gabriel stared into the face, trying to see behind the artifice to the woman beneath. He couldn’t see anything on her face but fear.

Laura moved past him, then laid her hand on the file. A few seconds later, she looked up, stunned by what she’d
seen.

“He wasn’t the only one,” she said.

“What are you saying?” Kirby asked. “Who wasn’t the only what?”

“Garrett. He wasn’t the first one who left. Only they didn’t leave. She threw them away. She threw all of them away.”

Kirby frowned when Laura suddenly changed from singular to plural. “All? What do you mean by
all?
”

Laura looked puzzled, not realizing what she’d done. But Kirby was on to something. After the interview he’d had with Althea Good earlier, this news was beginning to make sense. He headed for a phone.

Gabriel stepped in front of him. “What’s going on?”

“That woman—the one who told Dr. Wallis that Garrett had been transferred—if I was a betting man, I’d be willing to bet that when we do a little more digging, we’re going to find out that more people are missing than anyone knows.”

Laura dropped into a nearby chair. The ugliness of what she’d just seen left her weak and shaking.

“I don’t get it,” Gabriel said.

“It’s simple,” Kirby said. “She’s an addict with a very expensive habit. You said someone was still cashing Garrett’s checks, although he was no longer there. How much would you like to bet me that there’s more than one patient whose records won’t jibe with the truth?”

“Sweet Lord,” Gabriel muttered, staring down at the face in the picture and trying to imagine the desperation behind such horrible deceit.

“I know,” Kirby said. “It’s awful. Unfortunately, in my line of work, I see awful more than I see nice. We can, however, take comfort in the fact that she’s already behind bars. And if my suspicions are true, we can start trying to find the people she dumped.”

Gabriel looked up. “Now if we can just find Garrett before anyone else has to die…” He glanced at Laura and then back at Kirby. “Can you put a guard on Laura? If not, I’ll hire private security.”

“Why her specifically?”

“Gabriel, don’t,” Laura said. “It was only a dream.”

Gabriel continued as if she hadn’t uttered a word. “Because she saw her own death.” Then he looked at her, and his eyes were dark and filled with pain. “She saw herself dying at my brother’s hands. I can’t make her leave, but I won’t let her die, no matter what she
saw.
”

“I can get police protection for your property, but I don’t know for how long.”

Gabriel nodded. He’d figured as much. “Do what you can,” he said shortly. “And I’ll do what I have to.”

“I’ll get on it right away,” Kirby said, as he walked them outside.

“There is one thing I might ask,” Gabriel continued.

Kirby waited.

Gabriel’s voice was low and full of pain. “Don’t hurt him,” he begged. “I think Dr. Wallis would back me up when I say that you could take him by the hand and walk him all the way back to Reed House without a problem if you chose, but if you turn on sirens or fire guns—or if anyone starts screaming and shouting at him to give up—you’ll have a bloodbath on your hands.”

Kirby paled. The image Gabriel presented wasn’t pretty. “I’ll do what I can,” he said. “But if he presents a danger to others, they will use any means possible to bring him down. Five people are already dead because of him.”

“No,” Gabriel said shortly. “Five people are dead because of Althea Good, not because of Garrett. He can’t help what he does. She knew what he was like, and she still didn’t care.”

Kirby nodded. “Where are you going?”

Gabriel took Laura by the hand. “To prepare for Garrett’s homecoming.” His eyes were bright with unshed tears. “It’s been a long time coming.”

It was just past midnight when Laura woke. Reluctant to open her eyes, she lay without moving, waiting for sleep to reclaim her. Something brushed against her cheek. She nestled deeper into her pillow and felt it again, soft and warm, like a breath. She smiled to herself. Gabriel’s breath.

She sighed and then rolled, expecting to feel the solid strength of Gabriel’s body next to her. But there was nothing beside her but cold sheets.

Again something brushed against her cheek, gently but persistently. She opened her eyes and then sat straight up in bed. Gabriel’s covers were thrown back. He was gone. His pajamas were lying on the back of a chair, and the jeans and T-shirt he’d been wearing were missing. She touched her cheek. It was wet…wet with tears. This made no sense. She hadn’t been crying. Where had the tears come from?

A shudder ripped through her body as understanding dawned.

Angela! She was trying to tell Laura something.

Within moments, Laura was out of bed and reaching for her robe.

Gabriel moved throughout the house at a slow but methodical pace, turning off the security alarms and unlocking all the doors. When he was through, he headed outside. His stride was certain, his shoulders braced. As he walked, he became aware of his body in a way he could never remember being aware of it before—of the friction of his clothes as they rubbed against his arms and legs, of the texture of the night air as it moved against his face, of the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. In the simplest form of the word, he was conscious of just being alive.