So here she was, slinking like a thief in the night, creeping across the marble floors to the door of Roger Stuart’s study. Again she paused to listen, one hand on the knob. Certain that she was alone, she opened the door, slipped inside, and closed the door behind her, thanking anyone who was listening that the hinges were well oiled.

The office was dark. Through one window, a bit of light from outside threw soft gray shadows over the room. A shiver went down her back as she imagined the room’s former occupant watching her malevolently from the next dimension, and the stirring of her usually dormant imagination almost sent her right back out of the room. Then her logic centers took hold and she forced herself towards the other end of the study.

Here, shelves of books and handsome oak inlaid cabinets lined the walls. Dar touched a few of the books, but they were mostly never read sets; the cabinets opened readily, displaying cut crystal decanters of whiskey and not much more.

She studied the desk, then turned on the desk lamp and bathed the surface in bright gold. The leather desk pad showed faint impressions, and if she looked at an angle, she could almost make out words, pressed there by a dead man’s hand.

One word caught her eye, she leaned closer, and touched the pad as she recognized—even with breaks and gaps—her lover’s name. But that was all she could make out, just the “Kerrison,”

and then part of one word, “bo.” For it to be there at all, it had to be recent.

As intriguing as that was, Dar reluctantly tore her attention from it. She pulled out a drawer and hunted through it, finding it mostly empty. The next, and the next were the same, and the fourth contained only a Bible and a folded wool sweater. “Least one of them’s useful.” But the papers she sought were not there.

She straightened, then froze, finding a pair of somber eyes looking back at her. “Ah.”

Kerry walked across the room and faced her across the desk.


162 Melissa Good

“What in the dickens are you doing?” She folded her arms.

Rats. Dar leaned a bit on the desk top. “Thought you were asleep. I was just trying to clean up a detail or two.”

“Detail?” Kerry looked around and then back at her. “About what? Why are you in here, Dar? What are you looking for?” She kept her voice very low, though not quite a whisper.

Ah well. She had been hoping to put off telling Kerry about Alastair’s call until they were on the way home. With the stress of being with her family so high, the last thing Dar felt she needed was to hear more trouble. Now, she had little choice.

“I’m looking for the papers I gave him,” Dar replied quietly.

“Alastair needs them. Otherwise, the deal is off, and I’m no longer your boss.”

Kerry’s jaw dropped, literally.

“And they’re not here. So,” Dar circled the desk, and turned off the light, leaving them in darkness, “let’s go back to bed. I can at least say I tried.”

“Wait. I thought—”

Dar took her arm. “Word got out that the senator had them.”

She nudged Kerry towards the door. “C’mon. Don’t worry about it, Ker. Whatever happens, happens.”

Don’t worry about it. Kerry felt numb. She’d woken in darkness to find Dar gone. Instinct had led her to the study, and now…

She sighed. Now, she almost wished she’d just stayed in bed.

“Okay.” It was all just too much. She wrapped her fingers in Dar’s nightshirt and let her lead her back upstairs to their room. “Were you serious about—?”

“Yeah,” Dar whispered as they nearly tiptoed down the hallway. “But it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

Dar closed the door to their room behind them and put her arms around Kerry. “Yes, it is. I don’t regret any of it, Ker. Honestly.”

Kerry looked up into her eyes and read the truth there. Feeling the tears well up and the ache in her heart shortening her breathing, she put her palm against Dar’s cheek. “It’s not okay,”

she managed to get out. “Dar—”

“Shh.” Dar kissed her forehead. “I love you. That’s what matters to me. You matter to me. ILS can go jump off a bridge, for all I care.”

Kerry leaned against Dar and closed her eyes, surrendering to her own mind’s exhaustion. It was just a sucky end to a sucky day.

“STUPID BASTARDS...LITTLE whore bitch. Fire me, huh?”


Thicker Than Water 163

Kyle was furious. He threw his car into drive and headed through the intersection, foot pumping the gas as he just missed a man walking across the street. “Get out of my way, jackass.”

It was bitter cold out, and his hands were stiff as he curled them around the steering wheel. Of all the endings he’d expected for the night, this was the last he’d have imagined. From her? The milkmaid? The woman without two brain cells to rub together?

“Bitch.”

He knew what was behind it. No question. The little dyke whore daughter was behind it. She’d gotten to mommy dearest; probably brought up that old story about what he’d done to her.

Stupid kid.

It hadn’t even been memorable. At least for him. Just another nubile conquest, and he’d even convinced himself she’d enjoyed it. She’d been lusting after him anyway, right? Yeah.

“Stupid bitch,” he repeated, cursing himself for the nth time for not getting back into the country just a week earlier. The sum-mons from the senator had sounded so important, so urgent. Stuart had wanted him there immediately.

Could it have been for the contracts? Lately, he’d started to get the feeling Stuart was putting him off, avoiding him since he’d been pushing that investigation so hard. But the sudden call had reassured him he was still in good graces, still needed.

Still important.

Well, at least he’d found a nest egg. Kyle patted his briefcase.

With what he had in there, he could blackmail himself into retirement, and to hell with it.

The road curved in front of him and he followed it, the snow covered fencing on either side whipping past as he sped up, enjoying the power of the car’s engine.

He never looked in the rearview mirror, so he never saw the cold blue eyes that rose up from behind him, or the long arm that reached across his body to grab the steering wheel. He merely felt a huge hand wrap around his mouth, cutting off his scream of alarm as the car swerved and plunged off the road in a moment of icy nightmare.

A huge, dark tree rose up in front of him and he couldn’t avoid it, the steering wheel held in an iron grip even as his foot came off the gas and he tried to brake. The front of the car imploded, crushing him from the waist down, in a wave of pain so intense he almost passed out. Almost.

The hand removed itself, and he screamed.

“Ah could jest leave your sorry ass here jest like this,” a voice said in his ear.

“Asshole! You bastard! Augh!” Kyle tried to turn to see his 164 Melissa Good attacker, but he was pinned in place. “You son of a bitch!”

The blue-eyed wraith chuckled. “Yeap. Ah am an asshole, mister. Lotsa better men than you found that out.” Andrew clamped a hand on Kyle’s jaw and slammed it shut. “But I ain’t no bastard, like you are.”

“Gprfm.” Kyle struggled impotently.

“Ah just wanted you to know, ya’ll piece of scum, that what you done way back when to that little girl just come home to bite your ass,” Andrew whispered into his ear. “Got anything to say

’bout that?” He released Kyle’s jaw.

“I enjoyed every fucking minute of it,” Kyle spat.

“Thought so.” Andrew took hold of Kyle’s jaw and savagely yanked it to one side and slammed the top of Kyle’s head with his other hand. A sharp crack sounded in the car over the hissing of the demolished engine.

Then it was quiet.

“May t’Lord God have mercy on ya’ll,” Andy said, after a moment of silence. “’Cause He’s a better man than me.” After a slight delay, he slammed his shoulder against the back door, slid out of the car, and cocked his head as he heard sirens in the far, far distance.

A house overlooked the crash site, and there were lights on.

He could see silhouettes in the window, and a door slammed nearby, accompanied by the crunch of someone running in the newly fallen snow.

In the other direction, a thick blanket of white formed an unwritten page, and towards the road, headlights approached, their brilliance dancing off the soft surface.

Andrew paused, then looked up and studied the branches for a moment before he crouched and leaped, grabbed a branch, and pulled himself up into the tree. A dusting of snow fell under him, then it all went silent again.

AS SHE WOKE the next morning, Kerry half remembered her dream. It had been something about rabbits. Her eyes drifted open and bemusedly regarded the colorful fabric she was lying on, recalling that every time she dreamed of animals, it was always one of those really weird dreams that made no sense and usually involved her being naked.

She wondered briefly what a psychologist would make of them—especially the one with the talking bears. A smile spread across her face and she turned her head a little, and took in the room with a vague sense of the unreal.

It seems brighter in here today, she thought, eyeing the window Thicker Than Water 165

which now let in the pale winter light.

Wonder what time it is. Kerry closed her eyes and snuggled closer, reflecting on how much a good night’s sleep could do for a person’s outlook. She felt much more centered, and she considered that perhaps it was because she’d faced the worst and endured. She’d been tying herself up in knots imagining what her reception would be like, and now…