X. Masquerade
Hide your face, so the world
will never find you.
-Andrew Lloyd Webber; Phantom of the Opera
"He's so tiny," Rowan marveled, voice barely above a whisper. For the first time since her son had been delivered via C-section (four days), she was holding him in her arms.
Reid stood next to the bed, arm around his wife, the other lightly stroking the top of his son's soft head. He was tiny, four pounds and two ounces; normal for a premature baby. The past four days had been touch and go. After the baby was delivered they cleaned him up and took him away, not even Reid got a clear glance at his son. But by the next day, tests that had been administered to his son came out more favorable than anyone would have thought. Although the baby was small, born prematurely because of preeclampsia, his organs were as fully formed and functional as a full-term infant. His vitals were as spot on without a blip. One of those 'medical miracles.'
The mother was a different matter; the C-section had been particularly hard on her, mentally and physically. There were still machines around her, but there was no temperature, and her vitals (once abnormal because of the preeclampsia) were beginning to abate to their normal levels.
"Do you want to try breast feeding him?" the nurse asked gently.
"I can?" Rowan replied, and the nurse nodded.
The nurse helped Rowan and like that, her baby was suckling. Rowan gasped in surprise, then she and Reid shared an awed chuckle. They were in their own world, the three of them. Then Rowan looked Reid right in his eyes, telling him what she could not say aloud.
Reid absorbed everything Rowan told him about her 'vision' before the baby was born. And he believed her; he did not doubt it for some feverous or delirious hallucination. It was the only reason why their baby was so healthy and not anything like a preemie was expected to be. Reid understood that Rowan chose their son's immediate and long-term health over her own.
"I love you, Rowan," he said.
She smiled softly. "I love you, too."
A minute later, he said, "I know we agreed not to name him anything too eccentric, but I was thinking, maybe, Lucius would be a good name." Lucius was the name of Rowan's sixteenth century mentor. He'd gotten her through those hard months in that far-away time. "Luke as a nickname."
"Luke," Rowan repeated, caressing the baby's soft cheek with her fingers. "I like that. Lucius."
Later on that day, she was allowed visitors. Her mother and Caleb were first, and Rowan told them that Lucius' middle name was Caleb, which touched her older brother beyond belief causing his eyes to glisten with tears; though, none fell. They got to hold the baby, feather light. Two by two their family came and went, the medical staff insisting that Rowan needed her rest.
It was two weeks before Rowan was discharged with her baby. Her legs were shaky, and walking was slow going, but she got to hold Lucius 'Luke' Caleb Garwin, born September 8, 2017, as Reid wheeled her out of the hospital.
xx
Only Evelyn was present at their house when they returned. She would be staying for a while to help Reid with both the baby and Rowan. It would be difficult to juggle a newborn, a recovering wife, and household duties.
Rowan was wheeled into the house, she was happy to be home.
"We're home, Luke," she said.
Reid bent down and kissed her on the cheek and stroked his son's downy head. Evelyn took the baby, and Reid carried Rowan upstairs and helped her into the bed. Evelyn carefully gave Rowan the baby. Erwin, Tippy and Bruce Lee were vigilantly attentive the entire the time. A week ago a blanket with the baby's scent was put in their beds to familiarize them to the impending arrival of the baby. They'd missed their female human, anxious because of the jittery atmosphere. They watched carefully now.
"These are going to be your good friends," Rowan told Luke, smiling at the animals.
Reid and Evelyn chuckled.
Luke fussed. Rowan instinctively knew that he wanted to nurse and he immediately became contented when he began to suckle.
"Are you hungry sweetheart?" Evelyn asked.
"Hmm…maybe some tea, Mom?"
Her mother nodded, kissed her forehead lovingly and quit the room.
Reid sat facing her on the bed. "This is almost…unreal," he confessed.
"I know," she smiled. "I think he's going to have your eyes." Rowan was too mind-boggled to consider the genetic possibilities of that happening; but genes be damned right now. "And my hair."
The bed jostled when the animals got on, resting close. The humans knew that the animals wouldn't hurt Luke, but did not want Luke to be scared by them. Animals (at least theirs) acted very human, but in the end always submitted to be animals.
Soon, Luke fell asleep.
"I'll burp him," Reid said. Luke exchanged hands.
Rowan leaned back against the pillows, unable to get enough of Reid holding their son so perfectly, patting his back ever so gently while Luke's chin rested on his shoulder. Not long after, Reid placed Luke in his crib that was at the end of their bed.
"I love you, Reid," she said.
"I love you, too. This is going to be good."
"It will," she replied.
Reid stayed with her as she fell asleep. He was alone with his thoughts now. And the memory of what he had thought those first several hours of Luke's birth returned. What he had been thinking when Rowan's post-birth health was as fragile as eggshells. When he was allowed in the neonate ward (wearing all the protective gear) to see his son. Looking at him through the clear box, mind jumping back and forth between his wife and baby. Wife and baby.
The brief internal dialogue he'd had with himself. A hypothetical conclusion he'd settled on just as a vision (very much like Rowan's) came to him. And what the vision told him.
xx
"Dottie, let me make you some tea," Ginger said.
"No, sweetheart, you should be sitting down," the elder woman said. She sniffed, brought the tissue to her nose.
Everyone had left the Collins' household where Dottie's friend Trudy's wake had been held. With few post-mortem complications, Trudy was able to have her funeral forthwith, and Chase offered his home (large enough) for the late woman's wake.
"You sit down," Ginger argued, practically nudging Dottie to the kitchen chair.
Ginger was burgeoning with her thirty-one week (big) bump. She was officially on maternity leave from the library as of nine days ago. Her time had been dedicated to being with Dottie who mourned her friend.
"Both of you sit down," Chase said, coming into the kitchen. "I'll make the tea." He helped Ginger sit into the chair next to Dottie's. He still wore his suit, sans tie.
It was quiet in the kitchen. Chase didn't like seeing Dottie so sad, but her friend had just died so it couldn't be helped. He hoped the impending arrival of her grandson (that's how Ginger and Chase thought of it), and Ginger's baby shower next week would cheer her up. He took a box of tea (made by Rowan) from the cupboard and warmed the kettle.
"Are you hungry?" he asked both of them.
Ginger shook her head. Dottie said, "Oh, I couldn't eat a thing, dear. But thank you." She sighed a little. "Trudy would have called today a 'bash.' People all here just for her. Never let age stop her from," – her voice hitched – "livening up a party."
Ginger put her arm around her. "She was a great woman."
"I swore I felt her spirit pinch my cheek earlier," Chase said, and both of his ladies laughed, remembering how Trudy always used to do that to him.
The telephone ringing interrupted their reminiscing. Chase took it. "Hello?" His face clouded. "She can't come to the phone right now." Pause, then, "I'll tell her you called." He hung up sharply.
"Chase?" Ginger said.
His jaw clenched. "It was Jeffrey." He took the whistling kettle off of the stovetop.
Ginger frowned. "I told him I would be busy today." And why she would be busy. It wasn't like Ginger to be overly miffed, but this sort of niggled at her. She thought it insensitive that Jeffrey would call at this time, especially since he knew that today was the wake.
A half hour later Dottie went to her bedroom. Chase helped Ginger up the stairs.
"I should pack my hospital bag," Ginger said.
"I made a list," he replied.
Ginger's eyes widened with surprise, and pleasure. Although the path to Chase's acceptance of their baby was rocky and not without its setbacks, he was standing strong in this. He made a promise never to disappoint Ginger, and he would keep it. And every time he felt his son kick, it was like a kick in the head, telling him that this was happening, and it wouldn't be as bad as he'd originally thought. Even the decorating of the nursery had not brought on any untoward anxiety. Instead, he became obsessive about baby-proofing every inch of the house and making certain that all of the baby's soon-to-be possessions were guaranteed safe by the manufacturers.
"I'm sorry about Jeffrey calling," Ginger said when she sat down on the bed. "I don't know how he could have forgotten."
Chase just nodded. "He's been calling you frequently."
This time, Ginger did not smart at the fact that Chase was obviously checking the phone records. "I know," she finally admitted.
He turned to her. "Is it bothering you now?" There was no mocking or recrimination in his voice. "I mean, is he trying to contact you in any way but by phone? I know you don't have your weekly lunches anymore."
Ginger's eyes flashed away, then back.
"Gin?" Now his tone held caution.
"He sent… He sent me flowers last week."
"I didn't see them."
"I know. I threw them away this time." It was clear she felt badly about it. "You know those are my favorite, you always give them to me on special occasions."
"Do you think it's a coincidence that he knows the exact arrangement of them?" he asked.
After a moment, she shrugged. "I never told him what flowers I had at our wedding or anything. But…it could be a coincidence." Her eyes held some hope that that is what Chase would tell her. She didn't like these thoughts creeping in on her consciousness from time to time, even more often since that day she'd had lunch with both Jeffrey and Maria.
"Did you keep the card, Gin?"
Now she was quiet for more than a beat. Her eyes crept to the top of her dresser where she kept all sorts of keepsakes in an antique box. Despite the fact Chase was nosy about the phone records; overall, he did respect her privacy and didn't snoop, especially in her keepsake box.
He took that as assent he could look. It was easy to find the small cards. The first one, from that bouquet months ago: Ginger, I am so blessed to have your friendship. I hope these flowers bring as much light to your days as you have to mine. Yours truly, Jeffrey
Chase's pupils dilated angrily. The card from last week read: Dearest Ginger, a token of my affection for you. I have not forgotten you despite the cessation of our biweekly lunches. All will be well once the baby is born, I'm sure. Truly and Deeply, Jeffrey
His hand clenched both cards. "Ginger…" He had to take a deep breath so his words did not come out as furiously as he felt. He wasn't angry with her. "I'm sorry Gin, but friends, particularly men, do not write cards like this."
An expression of dejection came over her. "I was hoping it was…otherwise." Her head hung. "Maybe I could talk to him."
He grunted in the back of his throat, but stilled any harsh words seeing his wife's long face. Chase kneeled in front of her. "I don't think a talk is going to do it, Ginger. Putting my dislike of him aside, what he's writing is not…" He sighed. "These aren't the messages of a man who thinks this relationship platonic." He tipped his head to the side, inquiring.
Slowly, she nodded her agreement. "I must have sent him mixed signals."
"No, that's not like you Ginger. Not even unintentionally. Whatever ideas he got, he created himself." Chase, still holding the cards said, "I'll take care of this."
Her head popped up. "Chase, no!"
"I'm not going to hurt him," he defended.
"I know that," Ginger said. "But you can be…very abrasive, Chase."
He smiled. "As long as I'm not hurting him."
Her lips curved. "Can we at least wait a few days? Maybe after the baby shower?"
He didn't like it, but conceded in the end. "One thing though. Where does he live?"
Ginger opened her mouth to answer, but no reply was formed. "I… I don't know. He only said Beacon Hill."
xx
The guys paused in their card game, eyeing where the cheers of women were coming from. Reid, Caleb, Pogue, Tyler, Chase and Hunter were in Chase's den (not as elaborate as Reid's but it sufficed) while the women were upstairs at Ginger's baby shower.
"What do you think they're doing up there?" Reid questioned.
"You want to check?" Hunter quipped.
Reid's blues popped and he shook his head. "No, thanks." Even after Luke was born Rowan said she was too tired for a baby shower. (People came over in trickles, cards and gifts were everyday occurrences to their residence.) He had been to some over the years, but always for friends and always went off with the guys after the initial meet and greet. This was his first up close and personal. He figured he had three more to go after this.
"All right," Caleb sighed. "I fold."
"Same," Tyler said.
Pogue threw his cards in, then Hunter.
Chase and Reid glared at one another across the table.
"You're not very good at bluffing," Chase said.
"I'm not bluffing," Reid smirked.
Tyler checked his watch pointedly. "Some time today."
"Put 'em down, Collins," the blond said. "Let's see what you got. If you got anything, that is."
"I hope Luke isn't as cocky as you," Pogue said.
Reid grinned like the proud papa he was. Seeing his son everyday almost, could almost, make him forget the vision he'd had in the hospital. He had managed to tamp it down, not wanting to spoil Rowan's recovery, and their new lives with Luke.
"Come on, Chase," Reid prodded. "Let's go."
Chase shrugged oh-so casually, then put his cards down with simple flourish. "Royal Flush."
They all laughed at the expression on Reid's face. "Fucking kidding me," he muttered.
Tyler peeked over to see his hand, chuckled. "Full House."
Reid threw his cards in the center of the table. "Screw that." He grabbed his beer and drank.
A cell phone rang. Chase took it out of his pocket. "Hello?" His eyes went dead. "Do not call here."
The guys looked at one another, the temperature had definitely dropped some twenty degrees. Reid cleared his throat pointedly. "You have your wife's phone?" So he deduced as the phone's cover was lavender.
"That asshole calling," Chase seethed.
"The one who's in love with Ginger?" Tyler said. He explained, "Maria told me about what happened some weeks ago."
"He calls," Chase blurted forcefully. "He knows she's busy."
Hunter contemplated this. "Is he becoming overly attentive?"
"He sent Ginger her favorite flower arrangement, twice. The ones from our wedding. And she doesn't remember telling him. A few months ago he knew about her gyno appointment, and she hadn't told him that either." He didn't even stop to think that he was confiding personal things to them, it was coming naturally to him.
"Has she talked to him?" Caleb asked.
"I won't let her," Chase said. "I tried to though. I walked up and down Beacon Hill, where he said he lived, but I couldn't find anyone who knew him. His number on caller ID is 'unknown.'" Chase ran a hand down his face.
"What's his full name?" Hunter questioned.
"Jeffrey Rosenberg."
The telekinetic nodded sharply. He took out his cell phone, pressed a button. "Beta? Yeah. Get me anything you can on Jeffrey Rosenberg, lives on Beacon Hill. That's all I have. Right. Thanks."
"Beta?" Pogue spoke.
"It's his nickname," Hunter said. Beta was on his 'team,' the techie of the group (also a long-range teleporter). He was the one who had found background information about Nicholas Larson (alias Maxwell Holden) ten years ago. "He can find anything about anyone," he told Chase. "We'll get him."
Chase stared at him. "Why?"
Reid sighed and groaned at the same time. "Does anyone else want to spell it out for him this time?"
"I guess it's my turn," Pogue said with ironic disdain, not prone to long-winded colloquies. Addressing Chase, he said, "I know you've only had Ginger and Dottie for a long time. But, you see, you're stuck with us. So when one has a problem like this, especially when it comes to our wives, we all do." His arched his brow, challenging. "Got it?"
"Eloquently put," Caleb said, half-grinning. "As always."
This still made Chase dubious. But all five of them were looking at him with no opposition in their eyes. "Sure. Yeah."
"Great," Reid said. "Glad we got that cleared up."
Another burst of laughter and female squeals came from upstairs.
"Hope said something about a stripper," Pogue mused. "I think she was messing with me though." One just never knew with his wife…or the others, for that matter.
"Judy said the same thing. They're in cahoots," Caleb said. "But they wouldn't…it's a baby shower."
"What do we know about baby showers?" Tyler asked.
"You want to check?" Hunter said.
More shared glances. Then a collective head shake in the negative.
"Why do our wives torment us with talk of strippers?" Reid thought.
"Yeah, they know you're all overprotective, possessive Neanderthals," Hunter said.
"Hey!" Reid exclaimed. "What's this coming from a person who was jealous of a very suave sorcerer from a netherealm spending so much time with Gabe?"
"Outside of work," Hunter protested, jade eyes flashing. "Saracen didn't get all chatty with Michael, only Gabriel." Then he realized that he was ranting, exactly what Reid had expected. Jealousy was a foreign feeling for Hunter, but…he was human (sort of) after all.
"Sore spot?" Chase inquired to Hunter, a glint of good-natured mocking in his eye.
"Anyone says another word, they're free-falling," Hunter warned.
xx
He had to collect himself. Jeffrey was glad the old man downstairs wasn't home for the week otherwise he'd be calling the police for the racket Jeffrey had just made. How dare he tell me to not call? Ginger was his friend, his dearest, truest friend. He could call her whenever he pleased! Jeffrey had half a mind to inform Ginger of her soon-to-be ex-jailer's behavior. Perhaps that would make the parting easier on her.
Thinking about his plans calmed him down. He picked up the shattered phone he'd hurled at the wall back on the coffee table. Breathing in time he reclined on the couch, allowing himself a perfect view of all the photographs of Ginger.
Jeffrey had nearly everything in order. The supplies, the cleaning of the cabin finished. The chloroform, he needed that. But not too much, he didn't want their baby (a now settled delusion in his mind) to be compromised. Jeffrey had also purchased books on how to deliver a baby at home. It wouldn't do to have a third party when his Ginger went into labor. It would just be she and him. Then they would wait a while for her to recuperate before leaving Massachusetts forever.
xx
"Let's see, Ginger's due date is November the first…" he thought aloud. "Of course, due dates aren't always accurate, so…" He was taking her the last week of October. That would be good.
Ginger would be frightened at first, but once she was convinced of his undying devotion and love (and the wisdom of cutting ties with Dottie and Chase) she would calm.
"Twelve days," he whispered with a smile. "Oh, Ginger, Ginger…"
xx
"Today was a fun day," Ginger said happily.
"Yeah." They'd just taken a shower together, now Ginger reclined on the bed with her feet in Chase's lap as he massaged them.
"And I think it cheered Dottie up, like we'd hoped," she added. The three of them had opened more presents after their guests had left. Someone had bought a t-shirt that read: Grandma's favorite.
Neither wanted to spoil the moment by speaking of Jeffrey. Ginger had seen her call log after the shower, Jeffrey had phoned. And Chase was on the road to finding more about Jeffrey Rosenberg with the help of his friends and Hunter's contacts. Even before the baby shower was over, 'Beta' had returned Hunt's phone call to tell him that 'Jeffrey Rosenberg' had died some thirty years ago. Then before they left, Hunter asked if Chase had anything with Jeffrey's fingerprints. Chase still had the cards, but several people had already touched them, so how helpful it would be he didn't know.
Chase would tell Ginger later on. Right now her eyes were closed, and she had a light, contented expression on her face.
"Ooh!" she squealed, hands splayed out on her stomach. "That was a strong one."
Chase put his hand where hers was, and was rewarded with another thump from his son, he couldn't help but grin.
"You know, it's good to see Luke so healthy, and Rowan getting there," she said quietly after her son settled. "I'm so glad our baby is healthy."
"The both of you," he agreed.
"Chase?"
"Hmm?"
"Why do you think bad things happen to good people like Rowan and Reid?"
He thought about that. "I don't know. But those bad things are never permanent with them. They make it through."
"Like us."
He looked at her with love. "Like us, Gin."
xx
When Beta called Hunter back a few days later about the fingerprints, the news wasn't so favorable. Like Chase (and Hunter) thought, the card had been handled by several people so the prints were mixed up. Of course, being who they are, the knowledge of others who could do something more about isolating the prints was at hand. Hunter asked Beta to send them on, and see what those 'others' could do.
In the mean time, Hunter could not just sit back and let Jeffrey Rosenberg, or whoever the hell he was, twitter around in his own warped reality. The Shepherd decided to stake out the flower shop that Jeffrey frequented at. It was simple for Hunter to pose as a law official (not to mention the fact that he was very charming, to both sexes) asking to see the security tapes from the past two weeks. Nothing on that front though. Their security cameras automatically recorded over every twenty-four hours.
He wished he had a picture of Jeffrey to flash around. Anything to help him get closer to the whack job.
"Nothing," he said to Rowan three hours later.
Rowan set his favorite sub sandwich in front of him, and kissed him on the cheek. "Something will break." Hopefully before Jeffrey saw Ginger again, if ever. She was pretty sure that Chase wasn't going to condone that.
"All right, baby's changed," Reid announced, coming into the kitchen.
Rowan smiled. She loved seeing Reid hold Luke. The blond passed her son over to her and she sat down.
"Hey, little man," Hunter greeted, shaking his small hand. He grinned at Rowan. He was glad to see her looking more refreshed with brighter eyes and an easier gait that did not leave her lightheaded after five minutes. He looked at the animals. "Luke's already got three major fans."
"They no longer sleep around my ass," Reid said as he sat down. "They prefer sleeping at the end of the bed as close to the crib as they can get."
"They like having their own little human," Rowan added. "Hmm?" The top of Luke's head was soft and warm against her cheek. "Another year or so, he'll be able to walk around with them."
"Oh, God, what's he going to do, help Bruce Lee hide his toys?" Reid chuckled.
"Maybe in a couple more years Luke will have a little sister's toys to hide," Hunter joked.
Rowan smiled. "I bet he'd love to have a little sister someday."
Only Hunter saw the flash of surprise on Reid's face, maybe even a little discontent. Maybe the hypothetical about Rowan being pregnant again brought out the last several months' stress of Luke's pregnancy. But Hunter thought there was something more in Reid's blue eyes that made the blond turn away from the sight of his wife and baby; needing a moment to collect himself.
"He's falling asleep," Rowan said quietly. "I'm going to go put him down." The dog, cat and ferret followed her.
After a moment of silence, Hunter asked, "You okay, bro? You zoned out."
Reid blinked. "Yeah. I'm good."
He nodded softly. Hunter knew he had to diffuse the tension otherwise Reid would become broody. "So, what are the odds of Chase getting to Jeffrey before the cops?"
Reid's brow rose, then he laughed. "Why can't he just kill him?"
"Jeffrey's human, not some warlock or demon we can just vanquish."
The blond pulled a face. "Damn authority."
xx
One week later the proverbial cup ran over. The 'others' Hunter knew isolated a fingerprint from the card, unleashing a plethora of information straight from a true crime novel. It was the middle of the night when Hunter heard his fax machine coming awake from another room. Gabriel groaned.
"It's rude to fax people at three in the morning," he muttered in his French accent.
"I got it," Hunter replied, rubbing his eyes.
He forgot about sleep when he began to peruse the data that Beta had faxed him. Police reports spanning back ten years, news clippings, and a high school photo of Jeffrey Rosenberg, birth name Ward Jacoby.
"Shit," he said under his breath.
Josephine Till. Twenty-four years old, six months pregnant, filed a restraining order against Ward Jacoby, age 25; after he began to ruthlessly stalk her. He was convinced they were in a romantic relationship and that Josephine's husband was the interloper. A couple of months before her due date, Josephine was kidnapped. Law enforcement and her family searched tirelessly (for both her and Ward), but they were not found. At least, Jeffrey 'Ward' wasn't. Three weeks after her abduction, Josephine was discovered dead.
After that, Ward Jacoby changed his name.
Hunter suspected that 'Jeffrey' wasn't Ward's first alias.
There were a few more stories like Josephine's.
Two years after Jeffrey's first (known) victim came Janice Pivens. Pregnant, married. A restraining order was filed. Five months pregnant she was abducted. Two months later found dead.
Three years later - Rhona Freeman. Pregnant, not married. Restraining order. Deceased.
One year after Rhona, Lacey Davis.
Two more years, Carlene Black, the only surviving victim of Ward Jacoby.
"Now, two years later, they still haven't caught Jeffrey," Hunter thought aloud to himself.
"Cher?" Gabriel padded into the room, wondering what was keeping his boyfriend. The Cajun sorcerer found him on the couch with papers strewn across the coffee table. "Bad news?"
"You have no idea, Gabe."
xx
Chase told Ginger he was going out with the guys after Hunter called him. News of Jeffrey? Chase had not been expecting good news, but Hunter wouldn't go into further detail over the phone. So when he pulled up in front of Hunter and Gabriel's place, there were already vehicles present.
"Bonjour," Gabriel greeted when he opened the door.
"Hey," Chase replied. He followed Gabriel to the living room.
"Finally," Reid said. "Hunter wouldn't tell us anything until you got here."
Tyler back-handed the blond in the arm. Pogue, Caleb, and Hunter rolled their eyes.
Gabriel said something in French to Hunter and quit the room.
"So, what'd you find out?" Chase asked, sitting down next to Caleb.
Hunter looked at all of them, finally setting his jade eyes on Chase. He gestured towards the folders on the coffee table. "Jeffrey's real name is Ward Jacoby." He watched Chase closely as he explained about Jeffrey. It wasn't surprising that the atmosphere in the room became considerably colder.
All of them let out a breath when Hunter finished. Heads shook as they perused the papers.
"This is…" Caleb said, partly inspecting it from a lawyer's point of view.
"I need to find out where he lives," Chase said sternly.
"I have no way of finding that out," Hunter said regretfully.
Reid said, before anyone could suggest it, "And we'd need something of this whack-job's before we could scry for him."
"We should call the police," Caleb said, receiving dubious glances from all.
"So, what?" Chase argued. "He could see his face on the news and be aware that the police know the general area he's in?" He shook his head. "I am not letting this asshole just run off; especially, while he's still obsessed with my wife."
Caleb stared at Chase, then nodded. "All right."
Chase was surprised. He'd expected Caleb to oppose him vehemently; he was the lawyer after all. But there was just calm acceptance of Chase's decision. Acceptance from all of them that Chase wanted this to go a certain way. However, the 'way' wasn't entirely clear to Chase. If he wanted to get rid of Jeffrey, he would need to find him.
xx
The wind blew harsh against Jeffrey's cheeks. He shut the door to his van and walked to his motel room.
He had paid his last rent yesterday, cleaned out his apartment, and all his belongings (except for his albums and keepsakes) were back at his cabin. He'd made up the back of his van for Ginger. The ride would take a few hours and she would need to sleep off the chloroform. When she was suitably conscious, he would let her ride up front with him.
Right now, he was sleeping in a cheap motel. His nerves were frayed in expectation, nothing could go wrong. Deep down, he worried that Ginger would turn out to be like the rest of them. Fearful. Screaming, putting up a fight. Making demands. Then promising that they would do anything, anything, if he would just let them go. They wouldn't tell a soul.
No! No, she's not. Ginger is different, he told himself as he stepped inside the dank accommodations, locking the door behind him, along with all of his doubts.
xx
As much as Chase wanted to keep it under wraps, he should have known that the two women he lived with would see passed his façade of calm. He hadn't said where he was going with the guys, but to Ginger and Dottie, something had occurred wherever it was Chase had gone to. He managed to elude their stares until after dinner when they usually sat in the living room together to watch TV.
"Chase," Ginger said firmly.
"Dumplin', did you have a falling out with one of your friends?" Dottie asked.
"No," Chase replied.
"Well, what is it?" his wife questioned, brow furrowed in concern. "I know you, Chase, something happened."
He was quiet, glaring back and forth between them, pondering how he could make it out of this without mentioning Jeffrey, and then realizing that he couldn't without telling a whopper of a lie. Damn it, he hated being put in a position like this.
Chase sighed. "I don't want to upset you, Gin," he told her.
Her shoulders stiffened, she looked at Dottie; the older woman glanced back at her softly, but unknowingly of the goings-on.
"Tell me," she said.
He scratched his bristly chin, stalling for time. "Hunter made a call to a friend of his… Jeffrey Rosenberg, that isn't his real name. In fact, the real Jeffrey Rosenberg is dead."
Ginger gasped, as did Dottie.
"What is this?" Dottie said in a hushed manner, coming to sit next to Ginger.
Chase didn't want to give them the gory details, so he made a long, disgusting story short. "I won't let him hurt you, Ginger," Chase promised.
Her mouth was partially opened in shock, eyes wide, face ashen. She was squeezing Dottie's hand for all it was worth. "How could he…"
He put his arm around Ginger, kissed her temple. "It's going to be all right."
"B…But, he knows where we live! He knows my phone number!" she exclaimed.
"Sweetheart, shh…" Dottie comforted. "You have to breathe, sweetie, for the baby now, hmm?"
Ginger nodded after a moment, taking deep breaths, though still frightened. How could she have been associating with a murderer all this time and not have known it? She was in a psychiatric hospital for four years and she couldn't tell a psycho when he was standing right in front of her?
Dottie said she was going to make Ginger some tea and left the living room.
Chase hugged Ginger to his side, stroking her hair. "It'll be okay, I promise."
She sniffled. "I'm so stupid Chase. How could I not see it?" Then, "Is Hunter sure? Is his friend sure?"
Chase nodded. "Yes, he's sure. I'm sorry, Gin. I didn't want it to be this." He hadn't liked Ginger befriending Jeffrey, but that had been pure jealousy on his part. He had not wanted Ginger to be betrayed.
Her bottom lip trembled. She hugged her abdomen protectively. "Our baby."
He cupped either side of her face to make her look at him. "He will not hurt you. I will not let him hurt you. Understand?"
"Yes." She sniffed. "I don't understand how he could…"
"You can't understand, Gin. You're too good to understand that much evil." Chase kissed her gently.
Ginger was still sniffling when Dottie returned with her tea. Chase helped Ginger upstairs, and Dottie set the tea on the nightstand.
"I was stupid, Dottie."
"Heaven's no, Ginger!" she exclaimed. "Don't go thinking poorly of yourself now." She tsked and shook her head. "None of this is on you, you hear me?"
Ginger exhaled a quivery breath, nodding simultaneously.
"Drink your tea now," the older woman prodded.
Ginger took a sip. "This would go good with some oatmeal cookies."
Dottie smiled. "Be right back."
Chase sat on the bed next to her. "I'm sorry, Gin. I didn't want you to know." He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
"No," she swallowed. "It's better that I do." Pause, then, "I need to change my cell phone number."
"I'll do that first thing in the morning."
"And our home number!"
"That, too," he said.
She sighed again. "He was so convincing. I looked him right in the eye, Chase. How come I didn't see?"
xx
"Well, you are not to get anywhere near this, young lady," Evelyn Danvers decreed firmly, but quietly as she held her firstborn grandson.
Rowan pursed her lips, "They only need to find him, Mom." It would be rather simple, it would just take an extra few steps considering she didn't have anything of Jeffrey's; then the guys could take it from there. It would be nice to get back into the swing of things after so long without working.
"Reid," Evelyn said, catching his entrance before Rowan. "You are not to let her get near this."
The blond chuckled. "I wasn't planning on it."
"This is ridiculous," Rowan claimed.
Evelyn handed Luke to his mother. "It most certainly is not. Sweetheart, I know you're feeling better but the doctors still want you to take it easy."
Rowan sighed, looked down at her son whose blue eyes were clapped on her, and conceded to her mother's words grimly. Reid set a cup of tea down in front of her, shared a commiserating glance with Evelyn.
"We got it taken care of, Row," he said with a kiss on the cheek.
"Well…" Evelyn surreptitiously checked her watch, regretting that it was time for her to go as she had an appointment with clients. She was thinking about cutting back on work, wanting to spend more time with her children and grandchildren. "Love you, sweetheart."
"Love you, too, Mom. And drive safe, it's going to snow, and the roads are already icy."
"I will."
A few minutes later they were left alone. Reid joined her on the couch in the sitting room as she nursed Luke.
Reid put his arm around her. "I know you want to go back to work," he said sympathetically.
She half-shrugged. "Yeah, but…I should stay home for a while longer." And she meant that, she didn't want to be away from Luke just yet. The baby stopped suckling, subsequently letting out a small burp.
"Ah, that's my cue," Reid said. Luke was given to his father for burping.
Tippy jumped on Rowan's now vacant lap, purring. Bruce Lee was on the back of the couch by her head, and Erwin at her feet. She pet Tippy, while leaning her head on Reid's unoccupied shoulder. "I'm still worried about them."
Reid said he agreed. He wouldn't wish that situation on anyone. He'd had his fair share of times of almost losing Rowan, both to supernatural and non-magical forces. But they were still here, together; with a baby and three furballs.
xx
Ginger had a huge craving for Rocky Road ice cream and there was none left in the house. With a huff she stood in the kitchen contemplating her next course of action. Call Chase (who was having a meeting with his editor) and wait for him to pick some up on his way home; or call Dottie (who was helping Trudy's family sort through her things); or go out and get it herself. She opted for the third scenario. She'd go to the store and back within a half hour. She left a sticky note on the fridge where Chase or Dottie was sure to see it, then headed upstairs for her jacket. She hummed an idle tune, and did not hear the front door open.
xx
Finally, Jeffrey thought.
His heart was racing, brain pounding with expectation. He had the cloth lightly dabbed with chloroform, enough to sedate Ginger and not hurt their baby in the process. He tsked when he saw that their alarm system wasn't on. But the door was locked, which he unlocked with the key he had copied months ago.
Quietly, he slipped in the house. He heard Ginger's footsteps upstairs, hid behind the corner of the stairwell. Her humming was mellifluous. One by one she descended the steps, getting nearer to him. Jeffrey smoothly stepped up behind her when reached the landing.
"Hello, Ginger," he said, then promptly pressed the drugged-soaked cloth over her face.
Sorry I was a bit longer in updating than usual. Things have been mind-boggling at school. :)
Thanks for the continued reading. Would love to know what more of you think. :D