All Through the Night: A Troubleshooter Christmas (23 page)

Jules had the same idea as Sam, moving toward the door. “Let's clear the room, give them some space,” he said quietly, and Alyssa stood up.

But, “Wait,” Molly said. “Don't leave. Please.” She pulled back from Jones and spoke to him. “Something's got to change. It has to. Maybe…I don't know, but, what if…Will's a gift? His being here. His knowing.” She wiped her face with her hands. “Maybe you still need to write about what happened to you.” She looked at Jules. “We
did
talk about it, about Dave's writing a memoir, around a year ago. The nightmares were so bad…” She looked at Will then. “He started making notes, writing things down, and it seemed to help.” She looked at Jones, clearly skeptical now of his honesty in regard to this topic. “Or did it?”

“It did,” he said. “Really. But then…it didn't.”

“Because you stopped writing,” she accused him. “I offered to help, but he didn't want me to read what he'd written. He said it was bad enough that I'd have to read it once—after the book was finished. But the book never even got started. And now…Apparently, the nightmares are back.”

“They may never go away.” Robin spoke up for the first time, from where he was leaning against the fireplace mantel, over near Jules. “Some nightmares…just always come back.”

Sam looked at the happy couple, and it was beyond obvious the Boy Wonder hadn't yet told Jules about
his
nightmares. Which no doubt started,
I'm a kid, maybe seven years old, and I come home and I know right away that my mother's been drinking…

As Sam watched, Jules took Robin's hand, interlacing their fingers. Once upon a time, that would've really freaked Sam out. But now it seemed as natural as Molly reaching for Jones. Or Sam reaching for Alyssa.

“If that's the case, if the nightmares never leave, so be it,” Molly said just as quietly as Robin. “We'll just have to learn to cope. But…maybe they
would
fade if we stopped hiding.” She turned to her husband. “If
you
stopped pretending you were happy.”

Okay. Now it was
really
time to leave.

“I am happy,” Davis Jones protested. “Being with you and Hope—”

“You're happy when you're home,” Molly agreed. “I know.” She saw Sam sneaking for the door, and she turned and pointed at him. “Don't you leave. I saw you talking to Dave this afternoon. You were offering him a job with your Troubleshooters, weren't you?”

Sometimes there was nothing to do but stand tall and confess. “Yes, ma'am.”

“I turned him down,” Jones told Molly. “There's no way I would do that to you.”

“Do
what
to me?” she asked. “Be happy in your work? Right now, you live for six o'clock, for the weekends. You pay our bills, but that's all you're doing. When you leave each morning, it's as if you turn out the light in your eyes.” She shook her head. “People should love what they do—they should care about it, passionately. Dave, oh, honey, you should have seen your face when Sam was talking to you about working with him.” She turned to Sam. “Does the offer still stand?”

“Of course,” Sam said. He didn't risk a look at Alyssa, for fear he'd piss himself with excitement. Jones had been on his personal dream team wish list for years now. Alyssa and Jules both teased him mercilessly about having a man-crush on the guy, and yeah, if deeply admiring a fellow operator was defined as having a man-crush, then he definitely did.

“The past few years served a purpose,” Molly was telling her husband now. “We both needed a rest—time to just be together. And that was wonderful. Those first few months…Maybe if we had all the money in the world we could do it—just both stay home all day and raise our children. But vacation's over. It's time to get back to the real world. And maybe we can help to change it, while we're at it.”

Jones was looking at his wife, a little smile at the edge of his lips. “You always were a do-gooder.”

She lifted her chin as she met his gaze. “You always were, too.” She crossed her arms. “As far as I'm concerned, the only thing left to decide is between Florida or San Diego.” She turned to Sam. “Where is the Troubleshooters office in Florida?”

“Sarasota,” he told her.

“I'm leaning toward Florida.” Molly looked at Jones. “How about you?”

He shook his head. “I don't care where I am, as long as you and Hope are with me.” He looked at Sam. “Am I really going to be able to get the clearances I need to work for you?”

Sam let Alyssa, who was, in fact, his boss, answer that one. “We'll take care of that. We'll also make your new identity more complete.”

Jones was looking at Molly again.

“Wake me up when you have nightmares,” she told him, and he nodded. “So,” she added. “Florida.” She turned to Will. “That's probably more convenient for you, too, since you'll be helping Dave with his book. Right?”

Will looked pretty damn unhappy for a man who'd just gotten exactly what he'd wanted.

Oh. Except Dolphina, with her thundercloud face, was making it pretty obvious that his personal happy ending was going to be, well, euphemistically speaking, happy-ending free.

It was then that Jules chimed in. Once again, he'd been paying careful attention to word choices. He looked from Jones to Molly and back again. “Did you say
children
?” he asked.

Molly smiled, her hand on her stomach. “Yes, that was a plural,” she admitted. “I knew when it slipped out that you were going to catch it.”

“Sweetie, congratulations.” Jules gave both Molly and Jones a hug.

Jones looked at Sam. “How's Troubleshooters' medical insurance?”

Sam tried his best not to grin his ass off. “For prenatal care? So far, so good.”

“Are any of your friends
not
pregnant?” Robin asked Jules.

It was possible it was just a coincidence, but it was right at that very moment that Dolphina burst into tears and rushed out of the room.

Will tried to follow Dolphina, but his path was blocked by Alyssa, who was ten times scarier than her former-SEAL husband. Although as Sam came to stand beside her, he was pretty damned intimidating, too.

And then there was Jules, who looked as if it wouldn't take much incentive for him to rip out Will's throat, either.

But it was Robin who grabbed Will by the front of the shirt and uttered words that at first made him laugh. Bad move. But it was just that
Did you get Dolphina pregnant?
was the last question he'd been expecting to be asked here tonight.

“You think that's funny?” Jules asked him with outrage in his voice, and Will knew if he didn't talk fast, he was going to get the hell kicked out of him by two very angry gay men.

“No, it's not funny,” he said. “And no, I haven't…We haven't even…No. I mean, unless Mommy was wrong and you
can
make babies just from kissing.” He sighed. “Just hit me anyway, guys. We'll all feel better.”

“I think it's time for you to go,” Jules said. “You got what you wanted. I'll make sure Jones has your contact information. Oh, and after you leave here? You decide to change your mind and write an article exposing Jones?”

“I won't,” Will said.

“Good,” Jules said, leaving all threats silent but strongly implied.

Damn, but this had gone completely wrong. Will had been so proud of himself, too—especially at the party. Everything had been going so right—starting with him finding a parking spot right outside Laser-Mania's front doors. Maggie had had a great time, and Will had, too.

The teasing he'd gotten from the SEALs had been good natured and friendly. He'd even managed a face-to-face with an old nemesis—Troubleshooters operative Jim Nash, who'd been one of the many men to share Will's ex-wife Jackie's bed. Will had met Nash and his pal Larry Decker several times while chasing a story, and seeing Nash had always pissed him off. But today, Will's blood pressure hadn't been even slightly elevated as he'd greeted the man.

He'd felt nothing. Nada. Not even a hint of the old animosity.

Because Will was having dinner on Sunday with Dolphina. At her place.

He was, without a doubt, on top of the world.

But not anymore. And it was his own stupid fault.

Robin now handed him his coat. “Maggie's welcome to stay. We'll drive her home later—say, 9:30?”

“Thank you,” Will said, humbled by their generosity. “Yeah. I just…I need to, you know, talk to Dolphina before I…”

Jules looked at Robin, who slipped out the door. He came back almost right away. “She's not interested in talking to you.”

Will nodded. “Okay.” He put on his coat, as if he were just going to walk out the door without an argument, without a fuss. Just walk away from the best thing that ever happened to him…

But Jules had him by one arm, Sam by the other as he went out into the foyer, as if they knew he was just faking his passive accord. And Will knew that Dolphina was out here somewhere—Robin had come out and back in so quickly. She was probably sitting on the top of the stairs that angled up and around, maybe on the second floor landing.

“Dolph, I made a mistake,” Will called, knowing that she could hear him, hoping that she would listen. “I lied and I shouldn't have. I did it because I was afraid you would get in trouble. I wasn't thinking—I was just trying to protect you, and…it was stupid. If I could do it again, I'd do it differently. All of it. I'd tell you to lock your computer before going upstairs, because I know myself, and I couldn't not look. I should've told you what I found out about Jones. I should have told you what I was hoping to do. I should have been honest with you about everything…”

The door closed behind him with a gentle click, and Will found himself out on the porch, in the cold.

Honest about everything—not just about the way she made him feel.
You're the one…

If Dolphina had heard him, she didn't respond.

And she didn't respond.

Will stood there a long time, his hands in his pockets, before he turned around and finally dragged his sorry ass home.

 

S
UNDAY
, D
ECEMBER
9

“Do you…ever have nightmares?”

Jules looked up from the file he was reviewing as Robin slipped into bed, next to him. He'd brought an entire box of paperwork home on Friday, even though he knew he wouldn't have an extra second of time all weekend long to read any of it.

But the last of their guests were finally gone. The party had been a raging success—despite the Will Schroeder goatfuck. And who could know? Molly might well have been right—the Jones/ Schroeder collaboration could well work out as a double win.

Plus, it had been fun to see Sam walking around like he'd just won the lottery, having successfully recruited Jones. He'd been so happy, he hadn't seemed to mind knowing that, had Jones wanted to, he could've beaten Sam and Alyssa at Balls. But only, Jones had humbly said, because he'd been sitting there for hours, watching them play game after game, with the area set in that specific configuration. Change the gaming area—and he probably wouldn't have stood a chance.

Or so he claimed.

The evening had improved greatly after Will had left the house, although Dolphina had never quite returned to full speed. Still, the tree had been trimmed, the pizza consumed, carols sung, cookies baked. All that, and—thank God—by driving Maggie home, Jules had conveniently “missed” the viewing of the promo for
Shadowland,
Robin's new TV series.

“Sometimes,” Jules answered Robin's question about nightmares, tossing the file onto the floor, ready to give Robin his full attention and finally do it—talk about his feelings of jealousy. He'd gone so far as to poke his head into the bathroom while Robin was brushing his teeth and had said, super casually,
When you're done in here, I've got a question for you about the rehearsal dinner, and…there's some other stuff.
Yeah.
Some
other stuff. “They're not really nightmares. They're more…disturbing than scary. Like my father'll be there, and I'll know in the dream that he shouldn't be, that he's dead. And I'll wake up a little weirded out.”

Robin had propped himself up on one elbow, head in his hand, his eyes serious. “That's it?” he asked. “You've lived through a lot of really bad shit…I mean, this past Thanksgiving alone…”

“I don't dream about things like that very often anymore,” Jules admitted. “I don't know why. I mean, yeah, I've lived through some nightmare scenarios…” The worst had been that terrible, awful day last year when he'd believed that Robin had drowned. He reached out and touched Robin's arm. “Maybe I'm just really good at letting it all go.”