The Borrowed and Blue Murders (The Zoe Hayes Mysteries) (15 page)

“Okay. No problem.” Gently, he laid Luke down and covered him with his dinosaur comforter.

“Put your hands in the air.” I’d watched
Law & Order,
knew how to mimic a cop.

He obeyed, carefully. Oliver ran to him, jumping and sniffing. “Hey, little guy. What’s his name?” The man’s eyes were twinkling; his voice sounded relaxed, even friendly.

Why wasn’t he scared? I had a gun aimed at his chest, but this intruder, this possible kidnapper, was asking my dog’s name.

“Who are you?” I already knew but felt compelled to ask.

No answer. Just a broad, engaging smile with dazzling teeth.

“You’re Eli.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Of course he was. He looked just like Nick and the others. But I’d been warned, knew that Eli lived on the edge, might be dangerous, so I kept the gun on him.

“And you’re Zoe. Soon to be my sister.” His eyes smiled, and he moved his arms apart as if inviting a hug. His shoulders were huge.

I kept the gun on him. “So, Eli. What are you doing here?”

“What do you think? My brother invited me.” He smirked. I knew that smirk, or half of it—it was Nick’s. “Can I put my hands down?”

“No, you may not. Why are you sneaking around my son’s room in the middle of the night?”

Eli didn’t answer; he merely tilted his head toward the dresser. Cautiously, I followed his gaze. An open camera case was lying beside Luke’s freshly folded laundry.

“Wait.” I tried to make sense of it. “You’re saying that you’re here to take pictures?”

He shrugged. “I’m a photographer.”

I’d been warned about Eli, that he was slippery. “You broke into my house to take pictures?”

“Hold on now. I didn’t break in—”

“No? Then how did you get in?”

“The key.” He said it as if it were obvious.

“What key?”

“The spare. Nick left it outside.”

Nick left it? No, I didn’t think so. Nick wouldn’t leave a key outside. Nick was a detective, didn’t believe in leaving keys around. He’d have been furious if he’d known where I left Ivy’s key.

Eli’s arms sagged, hung out to the sides instead of over his shoulders. “Look. He left it where we always kept our spare growing up.”

“Where exactly?”

“In a fake rock. On the porch.”

In the rock? Damn. Nick hadn’t left it there; Eli had found Ivy’s key

“Nick must have left it for me in case I showed up when nobody was home. So I used it. I didn’t break in, Zoe.”

“You didn’t exactly ring the bell.”

“I didn’t want to wake anyone up. I don’t have much time, and I wanted to see my nephew. He’s the first of the next generation of Stiles boys.”

Eli’s arms drooped in the air.

“I swear. I’m not here to hurt anybody. I just want to take some pictures. He’s beautiful, Zoe.”

So was Eli, his eyes playful and teasing, almost asking mine to dance.

“Beautiful like his mother.” Eli smiled, blatantly flattering me. I felt my face heat up. “Thank God he doesn’t look like his dad.”

I watched Eli, assessing the confidence of his jaw, the fiery eyes that seemed to savor some secret joke even as a loaded gun was pointed at his heart. So this was Eli, the fourth brother. The one the others were somehow in awe of. Dashing, mysterious, elusive and talented. Probably, I decided, I wasn’t going to shoot him.

“Okay then, Eli.” I lowered the gun. “I guess you can lower your arms.”

His smile widened, revealing perfect teeth. But, instead of lowering his arms, he extended them, offering a brotherly embrace. “It’s nice to meet you, Zoe. Welcome to our dysfunctional, messed-up family.”

I stepped toward him tentatively, self-consciously, suddenly aware that my hair was a mess and that I had on neither a bra nor makeup, trying to be casual about tucking the gun into the waistband of my pajamas, concerned I might accidentally shoot my butt off, awkwardly realizing just in time that if I put the heavy gun there, its weight would pull my pants down. So, fumbling first to place, then to remove the gun, I finally left it dangling in my right hand and placed my left on Eli’s shoulder. Instantly, he swooped, arms encircling me, squeezing the air from my lungs, lifting my feet off the floor as he planted a kiss firmly on the side of my head.

When he set me down again, he was beaming, and I was breathless and aware of a sore spot near my hip. I backed away, glancing at his waist to see what might have jabbed me. And, buckled securely into his belt, I saw the sleek, dangerous-looking hilt of a large folding knife.

I
STIFFENED AND STEPPED
between Eli and the crib.

Eli, still beaming, looked puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

I remembered the brothers’ stories. Eli was elusive about his work, but they joked that he might be a government agent, working undercover, or he might be a hit man for the Mafia. Either way, I decided to postpone discussing the knife.

Just then, Luke gurgled a complaint. We were disturbing him. Wordlessly, I took Eli’s arm and led him into the hall, Oliver trailing along with us. Eli was taller than Nick, who was over six feet tall. I had to strain my neck to look up at Eli, and when I did, I blinked and looked away. His gaze was too intense. His eyes, focused on my face, actually radiated heat. They seemed to beam through my skin, melting my thoughts, and, as my face sizzled, it occurred to me that these eyes were the opposite of Nick’s. Nick’s were cool icy blue. I felt Eli studying me, and even in the dim light, I grew painfully aware of every unplucked eyebrow hair, age line, blemish and clogged pore on my face. I wanted to excuse myself, at least long enough to slather on some mascara. But I was being ridiculous. This man was not here to flirt with me; he was Nick’s errant rascal, possible criminal kid brother. And he had a lot to explain.

So, bracing myself for the steamy impact of eye contact, I craned my neck, riveted my stare and let my mouth rip in a hoarse whisper. “Okay, Eli. Now that we’ve gone through the ‘beautiful baby’ crap, why don’t you tell me the truth? Like why you’re wearing a weapon in my house.”

Again, his eyes laughed. “Weapon?” All innocence. “Oh. This?” His hand went to his belt. “I always wear it.”

“Bullshit, Eli. You’re dressed like a damned cat burglar. You sneak into my house in the middle of the night—”

“Zoe, it’s not even midnight. That’s hardly—”

“—And you creep around, picking up my baby—”

“—the middle of the night.”

“—in secret instead of calling ahead and arranging a visit like a normal person.”

“Look, I just wanted to shoot some candids.”

“So tell me, if you’re here to take baby pictures, why are you wearing a knife?”

“I always wear that knife. Ever since the military. I’d feel naked without it.”

Uninvited, thoughts of him knifeless and naked flashed in my mind, and I blinked, forcing them away. More than Tony or Sam, the man was a clone of Nick, a newer and improved, scar-free version. Eli carried himself like Nick, only younger and saucier, and approached me knowingly, as if he could see into my head. Like Nick did.

Eli sighed, moved closer and placed his hands solidly on my shoulders just as Nick did when he wanted me to calm down. And Eli’s touch, his grip, was confusing, too familiar. Too much like Nick’s.

“Zoe. Believe me. I’m not going to hurt anybody. I didn’t want the others to know I was here. I wanted to surprise them. And, since I’ve blown it, I might as well tell you—I’ve been putting something together for you and Nick. Kind of a wedding gift.”

“The pictures?”

He nodded, attempted a sheepish expression that came across wolfish. “A candid photo study.”

Candid? Wait. “So you’ve been following us? Like a stalker?” My neck was aching from looking up at him.

His eyes sparkled, but he squirmed almost imperceptibly. “No, nothing like that. Just, when I’ve had the chance, I’ve stopped by and taken—”

“You mean you’ve been here before? What are you saying? You’ve been sneaking around here, peeping on us?” I felt self- conscious, undressed. And I was furious, ready to draw the gun again. “What are you, some kind of pervert?”

“No—I mean, well, yes, I’ve been here before, but no, I’m not a pervert. At least I don’t think I am. I mean, maybe some people might think I am, but that’s because they’re prudes. Look, I’m not sick or anything. I haven’t been peeping—just taking pictures. For you and Nick. Come on, Zoe. Trust me.”

Trust him? As he spoke, his face became Nick’s, and I heard Nick’s voice echoing: Trust me. How often had Nick said to me those very same words, wearing that same puppy dog expression? It was uncanny how the two resembled each other. But Eli was still talking.

“…Only a few times. I swear . . .”

But I didn’t pay attention. I was wondering if Eli’s presence had been what I’d sensed lately when I was alone. Maybe it hadn’t been my imagination, hadn’t been Bonnie Osterman or any of the other former patients. Maybe it had been Eli who’d been tailing me, waiting for the perfect shot.

“…I wanted it to be a surprise. I guess that was stupid. I’m sorry that I scared you—”

Eli stopped mid-sentence, his eyes flaring an alert. A moment later, Oliver bolted down the stairs, yapping, and I heard the key in the lock, the front door opening, Sam’s hoarse voice in the middle of some story. The brothers were home.

Eli stood still, silent.

“They’ll be ecstatic that you’re here.” I touched his arm. “You’re all they talk about. You’ll have to tell me if any of their stories are true.”

He still didn’t move, but his eyes flickered that he’d heard me.

“Come on, Eli. Let’s go see them.” What was the big deal? “Forget about the surprise. You’re busted anyway—I found you. Come and see your brothers.”

He lowered his gaze, gave me a hesitant smile. Eli had reverted, become a picked-on younger brother. I tugged at his sleeve, but he resisted, his hand covering mine, and he leaned over, whispering.

“My whole life, Zoe, I never could be cooped up.”

“Okay.” What was he talking about? His hand was firm, almost urgent in its touch.

“I needed to meet Nick’s son and I’d never miss the wedding. Nick’s always, well—I love the guy. That’s why I’m here.”

“Nick loves you, too, Eli. Just wait—he’ll go nuts when he sees you.”

I took my hand away and ran to the top of the stairs, calling softly so I wouldn’t wake up Molly.

“Nick? Hey, Nick.”

Nick was in the kitchen, and Sam was still talking—something about a rabbi and a priest in a bar. I went down a couple of steps, calling again. “Nick—”

“Hi, Zoe—I’ll be up in a sec.”

Sam continued his story. Apparently, I’d interrupted his joke just before the punch line.

I went down a few more steps, calling again. “Nick. It’s important. You guys need to see something—”

Two voices erupted in laughter—but where was Tony? He wasn’t with them. Nick stuck his head out the kitchen door, half his face grinning. Before his shooting, he and Eli must have been identical.

“Come here—” I gestured. Suddenly, Nick’s grin inverted, became a puzzled scowl.

“What the hell, Zoe? What’s with the gun?”

The gun? Oh. I’d forgotten. I was still carrying it, still had it in my hand. Nick came toward me, reaching out for it.

“I have a surprise for you.” I grinned.

Nick took the gun, a question in his eyes.

“Eli.”

“Eli?” Nick’s eyebrows popped up.

“He’s here.”

“Here? Where?”

I nodded, grinning. “Upstairs.”

I was still nodding, my head bobbing up and down, yes, Eli was here, yes, upstairs, as Nick raced to the stairs, followed by his half-in-the-bag brother Sam, and the two of them collided, stampeding up the steps past me, calling Eli’s name.

E
LI, OF COURSE, WAS GONE
. No real surprise. He’d taken his camera, his knife, his Cheshire cat smile and glowing ember eyes and snuck out of the house, probably the very second I’d left him. Quietly, trying not to wake the kids, Nick searched every room upstairs, every closet, even under the beds and in the bathroom cabinet. But, of course, there was not a trace of Eli. I was angry, felt set up. But although they were frustrated, Sam and Nick seemed to take the disappearance in stride.

“No sign of him.” Sam’s belch smelled of beer. “What did you expect? They train guys like him to disappear from a lot tougher places than this.”

But I couldn’t accept that he was gone. “He was just here. How could he—poof—disappear?”

“This is only the second floor, Zoe. It’s not the top of the Empire State Building. He went out a window.”

But he couldn’t have. Nick had checked the windows. “Then how come they’re locked? From the inside?”

“They have devices that fasten the latches, that’s how.”

They? Who were “they”?

“Unless”—Nick tried to look scary—”he’s still here. Invisible. You know, the government might have him working on some experimental cloaking device—”

“Hush up, Nick.” Sam chewed his cigar butt. “If you’re right, Eli’s here listening. And if he realizes you know his secret, he’ll have to kill you.”

Half of Nick’s face smiled, the same smile Eli had worn. Nick put his arm around my waist, led me downstairs, asking questions.

“So, what happened, Zoe? What did he say? How was he?”

“Tell us everything. I haven’t seen that kid in what—six years?”

“No, it hasn’t been that long.”

“Well, when was the funeral?”

Funeral? Nick’s arm tensed around me; he glared at Sam over his shoulder.

“What? She knows you were married and your wife died. It’s not against the law to mention it, is it?”

We’d arrived at the bottom of the steps, and Nick, his eyes spitting anger, spun around to face Sam. Before Nick could speak, I slipped between them. “Of course I know.” I also knew that Nick’s dead wife had shot him in the face, that he’d been suspected of killing her. I knew the whole story. So what was upsetting Nick?

“It wasn’t the funeral, Sam. The last time you saw Eli. You know it wasn’t the funeral.”