Young Truths (Young Series) (15 page)

Marcus sighs, sitting back in his chair. “I’ve been digging deep on this one, Matt, but the deeper I go, the less sense it makes. Your house is outfitted with one of the best fire suppression systems I’ve ever seen in my life; my FBI building doesn’t even have systems that good. Logically, the system should have alerted you, your security team, and the four nearest fire departments the moment the temperature suddenly rose and the smoke was detected. From what I understand, that was not the case, which leads me to believe that someone was tampering with your system.”

I stare at him for a few moments. “Not possible. I’m the only one with access to it—well, Leo had access, too, but we both know he isn’t screwing with it.”

“You’re not the only computer genius in the world, Young,” he informs me. “Someone could have hacked into it and disabled it. The point is, someone knew about the system and how to disable it without alerting anybody. I’m not going to lie: that scares me. A lot. Because that means there’s a huge possibility someone close to you is fucking with you again.”

This should bother me far more than it actually does; if someone got close enough to disable my fire systems, they’ve probably been close enough to get at my family. And this time, I have absolutely no idea who to even consider naming as a suspect. I thought that list ended with Leo and Natalie; clearly, I’m wrong and I really hate being wrong. “What else?” I ask dully.

Marcus raises an eyebrow at my nonchalance. “That’s all I’ve got on the fire. I’m still looking into a few things, like how someone managed to get past your security team that night when they took Samantha and Tyler into the panic room. I’ve seen the video; there’s no footage of anyone on the property that didn’t belong there.”

“Is this your way of telling me the security team you so carefully assembled for my family is behind this?”

“No. Believe me; I’d know if they were behind this.”

“If it wasn’t them, who could it have been?” I challenge. “You said it yourself; no one who wasn’t supposed to be there was there.”

“That’s not what I said,” he corrects me. “I said there’s no
footage
of anyone being there. This could have been someone who knows the camera blind spots and managed to evade being seen.”

And just like that, the feeling of contentment I had after my conversation with Samantha this morning is long gone. “Has there been any word about Frank Marone?”

Marcus shakes his head. “Nothing since he was sighted trying to visit Natalie,” he answers. “But we’re keeping an eye out. And speaking of which...” He reaches into the bag he brought, removing a stack of what look to be surveillance photos. “We got results from that gas station camera where the SUV was sighted. Does he look familiar?”

I take the black and white photos, and try to look past the graininess of the images. From what I can make out, the person of interest is completely unfamiliar. Unlike the people I’m used to dealing with, this guy isn’t exactly fashionably dressed. Even Frank and Natalie looked as though they were headed out for a night on the town the night of Tyler’s kidnapping. This guy is wearing ripped jeans and a plain t-shirt, and he looks average. A baseball cap is pulled down over his eyes, but from what I can make out, he’s got light-colored hair and a medium-build. “No,” I answer quietly once I’ve gone through the different angles of the photos. “Never seen him before.”

“That’s what I figured,” Marcus says with a sigh. “Still no idea who he is. Wherever he goes, he pays in cash so we can’t even trace credit cards. Like I said, the license plates are fake and unless we get a lucky break, it’s going to be nigh on impossible to figure out who this guy is.”

I sit back in my chair, wondering if there will ever be a time when Marcus comes to visit with good news rather than added frustrations. I’m momentarily distracted when my phone buzzes. I groan irritably when I see Lucy’s name once again on the caller
ID and reject the call.

Marcus raises an eyebrow at me. “Everything all right?” he asks evenly.

“One of my exes keeps calling,” I say in exasperation.

“An ex, huh?” Marcus says. “Those seem to be popping up all over the place for you lately.”

I know what he’s thinking and shake my head. “It’s not that kind of situation,” I assure him. “Or at least, I don’t think it is. She called sometime after the fire and left a message asking me to call her back, that it was important. I’m not overly eager to return her call since this is the same woman my father was so desperate for me to marry and I’ve got enough drama in my life right now without adding that to it. Weird thing is the original call was from an unknown number.”

“Have you considered that it might actually
be
important?”

“Yes. But I’ve also considered that it might be something trivial that will only piss off my wife when she finds out my ex is suddenly trying to make contact again. The thing is she works for my father. So this could be anything from her wondering if he’s okay health-wise to wanting to break-up my marriage. And honestly, I don’t want to talk to her about any of it.”

Marcus sighs. “In my experience, when you’ve got trouble surrounding you and someone from your past pops up out of the woodwork, that’s not something you want to just ignore. Especially if she’s leaving you messages telling you how important it is to call her back. Even if she is trying to get between you and Samantha, that’s something you need to deal with, or you’re going to have real problems.”

Why is it that everyone around me is a fucking know-it-all today? “We’ll see,” I say noncommittally. “I should head over to the bookstore. Sam asked me to help with a shipment.”

Marcus watches me closely for a few moments as though he’s itching to say something, but in the end, he merely nods. “I’ve got to get back to work, anyway.”

We stand and start towards the door before he stops. “Oh, I almost forgot. I’ve got something of yours in the car—well, something for Tyler.”

I raise my eyebrow in question and follow him outside. “The security team passed it off to me when I was at the house last night. They said it was dropped off by your sister the other night when you and Sam weren’t home.”

“My sister?” I ask. “Claire?” I can’t imagine why Claire would leave anything with the security team rather than letting herself into the house. She’s one of the very few people with full access when we’re not home.

“No, one of the others. Haley?”

“Holly,” I correct, my confusion mounting.

He nods. “That’s it.” We reach his car and he retrieves a shoebox-sized parcel wrapped in birthday paper. “Out of habit, I ran it through an x-ray machine before bringing it out here. It’s some action figure I’ve never heard of—I’ve got all girls so I’m more familiar with Barbie dolls than monster toys these days.”

It would be amusing that he felt the need to run a present from my sister to my son through an x-ray machine, if it didn’t seem completely necessary right now. “Thanks,” I say, taking the present. “I’m sure Ty will love it.”

A minute or so later, I’m waving at the retreating car, Tyler’s toy still in hand. I roll my eyes at my older sisters. They couldn’t be bothered to attend my son’s birthday party nor did they bother dropping off his present in person. I’m sure Samantha will be relieved to know she evaded an encounter with them, though it amazes me the lengths they’ll go to avoid my wife.

As I head back into the apartment, my eyes find my cell phone again. This has to be the fifth time Lucy has called me since yesterday, though she hasn’t left a message since the first one. Whatever her reasoning for calling, she’s certainly spiking my curiosity. I glare at my phone for a few minutes, hating that I can’t seem to get Marcus’s words out of my head. This isn’t normal behavior for her and if there is something wrong, obviously I’m the one who she thinks can help...

“Dammit,” I grumble, snatching up my phone and pressing the button to call her back. After two rings, however, it goes to voicemail. Rolling my eyes, I debate on leaving her a message, then decide if it was really important, she would have answered. Now I’m suddenly eager to see my wife. I drop Tyler’s belated birthday present on the counter, grab my jacket, and head out.

Having Matthew with me while I’m working could have gone one of two ways. One, he could have driven me to the very brink of insanity. Or two, it could have been wonderful and fun. Luckily for both of us, the result was the latter. He might hate not being able to work in his own building, but he’s put that effort into helping me at the bookstore unloading deliveries, helping with customers, and even going on lunch runs for Bonnie and me. The only downside so far has been the attention he’s been getting from female patrons who seem more interested in looking at him than browsing books.

This is day three and I’m surprisingly sad knowing in a couple days he’ll be going back to his normal day-to-day routine. I’ve been reminding myself that this will be my last week at the bookstore before the baby is born, so I’ll be in his shoes soon. Bored out of my mind, forced to take it easy, nobody to commiserate with. I suddenly feel guilty for making him stay away from his work this week, doctor’s orders or not.

There have only been a handful of moments when I wasn’t pleased to have him so nearby and every one of those moments followed mysterious phone calls that he receives, but doesn’t answer or return. I know exactly who is calling him, but I’ve been waiting for him to tell me, rather than jumping to conclusions and making accusations. From what I’ve been able to tell, though, he hasn’t called her back.

I’m trying not to linger too much on any of it. With about a week left before my due date, I’m having more trouble sleeping now than throughout the rest of my pregnancy. During the hours that I’m supposed to be sleeping, my daughter has taken it upon herself to practice her gymnastics routine, which seems to now consist of cartwheel after cartwheel. I suppose this is why my doctors have insisted that I take some time off. As it is, I’m very much looking forward to the moment my daughter is born. Not because I’m desperate to see her and hold her—though that is all true—but because I might get some rest for a change. Between Matthew, Claire, their mother, Bonnie, and whoever else wants to lend a hand, I’ve been ensured that I won’t be lifting a finger. Aside from not sleeping and having my stomach kicked at from the inside out, I’m drained. Maybe it’s because of the fire and everything else around us, but my brain, body, and emotions all seem to have gone on strike.

I’ve seen the concerned glances Matthew has been giving me over the last couple days and I think that, more than anything else, is why he agreed not to go into work this week. He hasn’t said as much, but I know he’s worried about not being with me if something happens to me or the baby. He missed Tyler’s birth, though no one can really blame him for that, given how very early our son decided to make his debut, and now he’s determined to make up for that. It’s actually very sweet how attentive he’s been lately. Even Bonnie seems to be enjoying it, though I think she’s more amused than anything else.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Matthew asks quietly as we drive to pick Tyler up from school. He’s been sending me worried glances all day and more than once I’ve seen him speaking quietly with Bonnie and both of them looking at me in concern.

“For the hundredth time this hour,” I say in quiet exasperation, “yes, I’m fine.”

He glances over at me briefly and I expect him to come up with some argument about how I’m far from fine. I’m well aware that my color is paler than normal and that I haven’t had much of an appetite all day. I’m inclined to blame a slight cold I’ve been fighting for weeks; if my husband has his way, I’ll be checked-in to the hospital within the hour. Claire has even told him it’s normal for me to feel like this towards the end of my pregnancy. It was worse for her when she was pregnant with her twin boys and told Matthew to just be happy I’m not taking my misery out on him.

With a sigh, he nods. “I need to head into work for an hour or two tonight,” he says. My gaze turns to him sharply and he rolls his eyes. “Just long enough to sign off on a project we’ve been working on for months. The moment I’m done, I’ll be home.”

“Fine,” I murmur, too tired to really come up with any sort of argument.

We pull up outside of Tyler’s school and he puts the car in park. “If you want, I can take Ty with me so you can get a bit of rest,” he suggests. “I’ve kind of wanted to show him around YT anyway; just haven’t had the opportunity.”

I manage a smile at his childish hope and eagerness. Of course he wants to show his building off to his son... “That sounds fine,” I tell him. “As long as you bring home dinner.”

He chuckles. “Anything for you,” he promises. “You sit here; I’ll get out and wait for Ty.”

I don’t argue as he gets out of the car. For once, Olivia is being calm so I take what little time I have left of peace and quiet to close my eyes. It’s not until Matthew is gently shaking my shoulder that I realize I’ve actually fallen asleep and we’re outside the apartment. I glance out the window and Tyler is already at the apartment door, waiting for us. “I didn’t even hear you two get in the car,” I yawn.

Matthew smiles softly. “You were completely gone and we didn’t want to wake you,” he says. “Come on, I’ll get you settled before we head out.”

Within half an hour, I’m lounged on the living room couch, staring sleepily at the television. I could probably sleep until noon tomorrow, but just as I get comfortable, Olivia wakes up from her own nap. I scowl not so playfully at my belly. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with letting Mommy get some sleep,” I grumble, rubbing the spot she just kicked. “You’re going to spend the next few months keeping us awake as it is; the least you can do is let me sleep now...”