Eleventh Grave in Moonlight (Charley Davidson #11)(48)

12

I talk an awful lot of shit for someone who can’t put underwear on without tipping over.





—T-SHIRT


By the time I got home with dinner from El Bruno’s, Ubie had gone out again, Cookie was fretting about it, and Amber was hiding in her room. I tried calling my curmudgeonly uncle, but he had yet to return the favor. He was probably mad that I’d lied to him about being home. The weirdo.

Reyes and I went over the case, and I shared everything we’d found on the Fosters and Veronica Isom. He listened but didn’t really join in the conversation. He wasn’t really a joiner. Still, he wasn’t ordering me about like usual.

I could find the positive in any situation. It was a gift.

But I could still feel his resistance to the whole idea. His reservations.

We’d just cleaned up after dinner when a knock sounded at the door.

I pretended to be surprised. “Who’d be knocking at this hour?”

Reyes narrowed his gaze in suspicion.

I hurried to the door and opened it. Shawn Foster stood on the other side, looking a tad sheepish and very uncomfortable with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Shawn, come in.” I’d invited him over, thinking that if Reyes met him, if he understood the whole situation, he wouldn’t be so upset that I’d taken the case.

Shawn stepped inside, took a quick awestruck sweep of the room, and then nodded his head toward Reyes in a silent acknowledgment. I hadn’t realized until that moment that he’d wanted to meet Reyes. His heartbeats stumbled into one another. A mixture of anticipation and excitement radiated out of him in warm waves.

“It’s so good to see you,” I said. “Is everything okay?”

His brows slid together. “Yeah, you told me to—”

“Reyes!” I said, gesturing toward him. “This is my husband, Reyes. Reyes, this is Shawn Foster. You know, the Fosters’ son?”

For a brief moment, Reyes looked like he was going to bolt. He glanced toward our bedroom as though calculating how many steps it would take him to stalk out.

I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t be so rude. Hoping he wouldn’t dash Shawn’s hopes. The same hopes he could detect as easily as I.

But Shawn had already felt it. Reyes’s irritation. He started to turn toward the door when Reyes walked forward and took his hand. A wave of relief washed over me.

“Would you like some coffee?” I asked them both.

The flash of annoyance in Reyes’s eyes didn’t deter me.

“Coffee it is. You guys sit down. Get to know each other.”

I went to the kitchen and started a pot as they sat at the dining room table. Because we wouldn’t want to sit in the comfortable seats by the fire in the living room so that our guest actually felt welcome.

“Sorry to just show up like this,” Shawn said.

Reyes shook his head, seeming a bit sheepish himself. “No, it’s fine. I’ve been meaning…”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning, too.”

Reyes nodded and then noticed the ink Shawn had on his forearm. “Nice.”

“Oh, thanks.” He held out his arm to display a gorgeous, full-color sleeve. “Got this a few years ago. My mom—Eve—almost had a heart attack.”

Reyes laughed under his breath. “So, do you know who your real parents are?”

I stilled, wondering how Shawn would take Reyes’s bluntness.

“No. That’s why I hired your wife.”

“Then you hired the best.”

Once the ice had been broken, the conversation flowed like a smooth whiskey. They talked about everything, including the fact that they were almost but not really kind of sort of brothers.

“I heard about you my whole life growing up.”

Reyes cringed. “That couldn’t have been good.”

“Nope, which made me want to meet you even more.”

Reyes ducked his head, suddenly bashful.

“How long have you known about me?” Shawn asked him.

“Few years now.”

“Did you know I wasn’t their biological son?”

“I suspected. But they kept you. They must’ve really loved you.”

The look of surprise on Shawn’s face was priceless. “Wow, you really don’t know them at all, do you?”

Reyes grinned and shook his head. “Can’t really say that I want to, either.”

“I hear that,” Shawn said, laughing.

They were getting along famously. After I served them coffee, I was suddenly so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open and there was a pillow somewhere with my name on it. I went to bed early to give them time to get to know each other, then I lay awake, listening to them talk and laugh and commiserate.

Three hours later, Reyes joined me. Or he tried to. Artemis was taking up most of his side.

He slid in, scooting her over in the process, and lay in silence for a long time while I lay in agony, waiting with baited breath. But after a while, I really did get sleepy. We both rubbed Artemis’s ears and I took his hand into mine. His long fingers laced into mine; then, just before his breathing evened out and he drifted into oblivion, he said, “Drop the case.”

A wave of disappointment washed over me until I realized I’d learned something. His reservations had nothing to do with Shawn. He liked the guy. I could tell. So there was something else eating at him. Interesting.