Chapter 48

CHAPTER 48

W e had leftover mustard chicken sandwiches for lunch—Rose is obsessive about food and since even her leftovers were good, I didn't object—and then we went back and searched the rest of the basement. We found a lot of odd stuff but no money. Then Rose said Poppy would be home soon, and we needed showers, so we went upstairs and took one together to save water. Saving the environment is important. Even more important is a wet, naked, soapy Rose, laughing with me. That was a long shower.

Then Poppy came home and we had dinner, hamburgers that Rose called "smashburgers," and I didn't care what she named them, they were damn good. There was a salad, of course, the Malones were heavily into greens, and french fries, and we just ate and talked about the search, and Poppy and I fought over the last of the ketchup, her laughing the whole time, and Rose looked at me with so much favor that I realized I was fitting in here too well.

We needed some distance. I'd just stay down here tonight. Keep watch.

But when we'd spent some time searching the front of the shop, which was me looking in teapots and anything else with a lid and Rose cleaning off shelves and sorting stuff, she leaned into me and kissed my neck, and I took her upstairs. There's a limit to my self-denial, not to mention my Rose-denial. We heard Poppy in her bedroom talking to somebody, probably Darius from the sound of it, so I pulled her across the hall to my bed— Oz's bed, not mine—and we explored some new ideas. Very open-minded woman, Rose.

But when she fell asleep, I went downstairs and moved a chair between the kitchen and store again, in the hall next to the stairs on Rose's side. That way I could react to someone coming in from the front or rear. Maggs settled down at my feet. I leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes, trusting Maggs to alert me. I didn't believe Herc or Serena. I'd believe she was backing off in about ten years if we hadn't heard from her again and someone had driven a wooden stake through her heart, then dragged her corpse into daylight where it burst into flame. And I saw it with my own eyes. Then did a DNA test on the ashes.

My hope was that whatever Herc had threatened her with had been sufficient. In a way, it made sense since Herc had the same file she was so desperate to keep hidden. And there was no upside to us revealing it if we found it. But if common sense ruled in the world, there would have been no need for my former profession.

I woke to Maggs on her feet, pointing to the stairs. But she wasn't growling and her hackles were down.

"Max?" Rose was coming down the stairs wearing some short pink pajamas, her hair a mess. She looked delicious. "What are you doing?"

"Keeping watch," I said.

She looked troubled. "You said that the Serena problem was solved for now."

"I hope it was."

"You really think Serena is going to do something? I've got no idea where that microfilm is and even if we find it, what can we do with it?"

She sounded off balance, a little frantic, so I stood up and put my arms around her, mostly to reassure her but also because I really wanted to hold her. "I don't think Serena knows what she's going to do next. I think the Norman as Junior's father thing was a shock for her."

Rose relaxed against me. "That would be a shock for anyone. Everybody now knows she had sex with Norman."

"It was a long time ago," I pointed out.

"There's no ‘long ago' enough for Norman."

I told her briefly that Herc and Serena had chatted but not much more, mainly because I didn't know much more. And I'd picked up that the less I mentioned the name "Herc" around her, the better.

She let go and pulled me toward the kitchen. "Want some tea?"

I followed her in, wanting her more than tea. Maggs remained in place, head nestled inside the cone, eyes closing. She was tired too. Too much excitement and playing with happy kids. She was losing her edge, which might be a good thing.

Rose didn't turn on the light, just went to the pantry on instinct to get the teabags. I followed her in, stepped beyond her, farther into the pantry, and wrapped my arms around her waist again. She was soft and warm and I wanted more of that. She leaned back into me with a sigh, and I had a moment of complete peace, which was not like me.

That, of course, was when someone punched out the glass on the back door, the only sound the soft tinkle of glass hitting the floor as a hand reached in and turned the lock.

I tried to let go of Rose to draw my pistol, but my hand knocked into the shelf and Rose pushed back against me for some reason. Through the pantry door, I saw a man enter, an assault rifle tight to his shoulder, the laser sight painting a nice red dot on my chest.

Then the darkness next to me was rent by the muzzle blast from Rose's shotgun, and the roar echoed in the hallway. The intruder stumbled back, his rifle falling to the end of the sling, and then he was gone, backward through the door.