Eleventh Grave in Moonlight

Broom closet it was.

Just as I’d decided to jump on the idea – and him – I remembered my latest gig. The one that he was not going to be happy about. The one that I really should have discussed with him before accepting, not that my PI business was any of his, but it had been a sensitive subject in the past. Like third-degree-burn sensitive.

Best to get it out in the open. Rip off the Band-Aid, so to speak. Cut open a vein and hope he still cared enough about me afterwards to apply pressure.

I cleared my throat and straightened my shoulders. “So, yeah, I got a new case today.”

“You don’t say.”

“I just want you to know that I already accepted it.”

He finally met my gaze, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I mean Shawn Foster. The Fosters’ son came in today.”

He stilled but gave no other clue as to his thoughts.

“He knows, Reyes. He knows he’s not the Fosters’ biological son. And the adoption agency that supposedly did the paperwork should the Fosters ever have to prove they’d gotten him through legitimate means? He knows that was bogus as well. He believes, as do I, that he was abducted as a child. Just like you were.”

I could feel rather than see the darkness slide over him like a cloak. His poker face was top notch, but he was not a happy camper shell. “He asked you to look into it?”

“He just waltzed into the office and hired me.”

“How did he know to come to you?”

“See, now here’s where it gets interesting.” I was so good at lightening the mood. Not so great with lightening my hair, though. Peroxide and I did not get along. “I’ve done a few drive-bys past the Fosters’ house since we’ve been back. You know, just to check on things. Totally, 100 percent innocent. But he noticed. I know, right? My bad.”

“I thought we’d agreed you weren’t going to look into the Fosters.”

“We did,” I assured him, jumping to explain. “And I wasn’t looking into them. I was looking around them. Like, peripherally. Shawn just happened to notice.” When Reyes didn’t say anything, I continued. “But it’s all good. Shawn and I are on the same page. He had a lot of great information. I had a lot of great information. Combine that with what you told me, and I think we could put them away, Reyes. I think we could get a conviction.”

“And you think that’s what I want?”

“Don’t you? I mean, how can you not? They abducted you, Reyes. Then they allowed you to be abducted again by a monster, if that’s what really happened, and you just want them to get away with it?”

“I want you to drop it.”

“Reyes, I’ve already accepted the case. I was hoping you’d understand. Shawn wants to know. He wants to find out where he comes from. Find out who his real parents are. What his real life would have been like. He has questions just like you did.”

“Drop the case.”

It was an order, plain and simple. And the fact that he actually thought I’d follow it was comical. Or it would’ve been if he weren’t seething underneath that calm exterior.

“No. I’m sorry, but I can’t. This isn’t just about you anymore.”

He leaned forward, so close I could feel his breath on my mouth when he spoke. “Drop the case or I’ll drop it for you.”

Oh, no, he didn’t. I narrowed my lids and set my jaw. “Try.”

Heat exploded out of him. It was an inevitable part of who he was, of what he was, but this time the heat hit me like wall of fire.

He struggled to tamp it down. I could feel at least that much in the strangling density of his emotions. He fought to regain control.

And I struggled to stand my ground. This was important. The Fosters were criminals. They needed to be brought to justice. And the moment he believed he could threaten me into doing anything against my will was the moment he and I were going to have to seriously reevaluate our relationship.

My phone rang just as he stood to leave. “Wait,” I said to him.

He stopped but didn’t look back at me.

I checked my phone. It was Cookie. “This’ll just take —”

“We’ll talk about this later,” he said, and then he strode away. Just like that. His anger leaving heat streaks on the air.

I answered. “Hey, Cook. What’s up?”

“He’s having an affair.”

I’d started to get up, too. Several sets of eyes watched me, mostly women’s, curious about Reyes and me. I sat back down. “Did he tell you that?”

Her breath hitched. “He didn’t have to. I practically threw myself at him, and he barely noticed.”

The sigh of relief I let loose made me light-headed. “Cookie, he is not having an affair. I’d bet my bottom dollar on it. Or even just my bottom. But I’ll look into it for you if you’d like.”

“I’d like. But that’s not why I called.”

“I’m downstairs. Heading up now.”

“I’m still at home. I’ve been looking into the Fosters’ backgrounds.”

“At home?”

“I go into research mode when I’m upset.”

“Ah, okay,” I said as Valerie, Reyes’s manager in training, cleared my table. “Hit me. What’d you find?”

“Well, they don’t make sense.”

“Child abductors rarely do.”

“No, it’s like they were never born.”

“So, they were hatched?” I teased. I smiled at Valerie. She almost smiled back. It was so much better than the sneer I usually got from her. I got the feeling she didn’t like me much.