Trusting Danger (Danger, #2)(59)

A heaviness settled on Grayson’s chest, pressing until he couldn’t take a breath. The moment he’d been dreading had arrived, but it hadn’t occurred to him until now just how empty it would make him feel.

His aunt stood and wrung her hands as she began pacing the room. “The funeral director said to call once this happened. I’ll go do that.” She glanced at Anna before she looked back at Grayson. “We can give you some time alone with her.”

For the next twenty minutes, Grayson remained at his mother’s bedside, overwhelmed by memories—his mother holding his hand as she walked him inside the school as he was starting first grade, the Christmases she’d worked hard to make special for him, the times she’d detoured through DC on her way back home from a trip, just to spend an evening with him and Camden and cook them dinner.

Then, knowing there was nothing more he could do, he stood and reached out to cup her cheek as he whispered, “I love you, Mom.”

When he walked downstairs, he found his aunt staring out the kitchen window. She turned around as he neared, holding a crumpled tissue against her reddened nose. “Your mother asked me to give you something.”

Mary left the kitchen and returned with one of his mother’s photo albums clasped to her chest. “There’s a letter inside. They’re your mother’s words, although I wrote them down for her.” Extending it to him, she tried in vain to smile.

The room seemed to spin as Grayson took hold of the album. His vision blurred, and what energy he had left drained from his body all at once.

He hadn’t been here to speak with her one last time, so his mother had been forced to dictate a letter. He was the worst son imaginable.

Unable to meet Mary’s eyes, he mumbled his thanks and carried the album upstairs. As he set it on top of his dresser, he tried to think positively.

Watching his mother suffer these past months had been a constant source of torture for him. At least now she was no longer in pain.

He stared at the album, suddenly repulsed by it. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t read that note. Not now, in the state he was in.

Devastated, Grayson dropped onto his bed and squeezed his eyes shut. He no longer had parents. He had no siblings. Sure, he had Camden and his teammates, who were like brothers. But his mother was right . . .

He needed more than just his career.





Chapter Forty-Eight





When Alex gave her the news about Grayson’s mother passing away the night before, Claire quickly excused herself and locked herself in her bedroom. Sadness gutted her for the second time in a week, yet this time, she grieved not so much for the deceased but for who was left behind.

Scratches came from outside her bedroom door as she cried. Finally, she wiped at her face and got up to open the door, allowing Charlie to come inside. He trotted in and blinked up at her, tilting his big head. As she closed the door behind him, he nudged his snout into her other hand, snuffling and seeking her attention.

Sweet Charlie.

“You’re such a good boy,” she said, her chest hitching with a sudden sob.

With a soft woof, he bounded over to the bed and leaped on top of the covers, then flopped into his usual spot. He looked back at her and when she didn’t move, he woofed again, an obvious invitation to join him.

Claire crawled onto the bed and snuggled with her dog, resting her chin on top of his head. Willing herself to stop crying, she stroked one hand along his warm back, her erratic breathing eventually slowing along with his gentle respirations.

Soon, she was asleep.





Chapter Forty-Nine





As he drove down the George Washington Memorial Parkway along the Potomac River the next Wednesday, Grayson answered his ringing phone.

“How are you doing, Gray?” Eli asked.

“All right,” he said, but the truth was he felt like shit. Grief had taken everything out of him, and now he was gutted and more numb than anything. “Thank you for the flowers you sent.”

“Wish I could have been there,” Eli said, his voice sincere. Changing the subject, he asked, “Where are you?”

“Back in town, on my way to Claire’s.” After the last few gut-wrenching days, seeing her again was the one thing he’d been looking forward to.

As Eli spoke, Grayson knew exactly what he would say next.

“You don’t need to come back to work so soon.”

And there it is. Eli was nothing if not consistent.

Since professionalism was the only thing that would deflect his boss’s worry, Grayson said, “I want to get back to the case. How did the interrogation with Eric Sewell go in Boston?”

“They had him in interrogation for hours but finally had to let him go. He wouldn’t admit to anything.”

Grayson frowned. They could prove Sewell had been in DC during the kidnapping, but nothing else. “What about phone records?” Maybe they’d reveal a connection to Rex Gibson.

“Still waiting on those.” Eli let out a sigh. “Listen, Gray, I really think you should take more time off. Don’t you need to deal with your mom’s estate?”

“I’m not worrying about that right now.” Grayson cleared his throat. “Eli, I’m fine. I’ll check in with you later.”

It had been hard enough to get through the small funeral his aunt had arranged, plus meeting with his mother’s lawyer and banker, arranging for final bills to be paid. He’d encouraged Mary to select a few items of her sister’s that held meaning for her, a few pieces of jewelry and the like, and drove her to the airport yesterday to return to Minneapolis. Like him, it was time for her to get back to her own life.