Beneath the Cracks Read Online Free Page B

call me Chris.  Or
Christopher, if you prefer."
    Headlights shined up the drive and
illuminated where we stood in the doorway.
    "That'll be Johnny, Helen.  Not
everyone is aware of his position in law enforcement."
    "Understood."  I mimed locking my lips
and tossed the key over my shoulder.  "Shall we wait for
him?"
    "You wait.  I can find my way
inside."
    Orion parked his car and walked toward me as
if I were the sole person standing on a vast and desolate
landscape.  He indulged in a slow perusal, close enough that I
could smell the scent of soap on his skin.  His hair was
longer than I remembered.
    I rubbed my chin.  "This is new."
    "The goatee?"  It was darker blond than
his hair and added roguish appeal to his face.  "It's that
time of year, Doc.  The weather turns cold and men's thoughts
turn to keeping warm."
    "We should probably join the party. 
Everyone else is inside already."
    His fingers manacled my wrist before I could
turn away.  "Or you could tell me why you haven't called in
all these months.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm thrilled to
rate an invite to this impromptu gathering tonight, but I've been
worried about you.  Guess I was hoping we'd have a chance for
a private meeting before dinner with the gang."
    The warm hand sent a cold chill through
me.  I shivered.  Moonlight peeking out from behind puffy
clouds magnified the blue in his eyes.  My nerve endings
hadn't forgotten the effect his touch had on me.  My stomach
hadn't forgotten how to summersault under the intense gaze
either.  I looked away quickly.
    "Maya told you I've been busy."
    His thumb caressed the inside of my
wrist.  "She also said you're fine.  She didn't tell me
that your hair is longer and chestnut now, or that you don't look
at the world through harried eyes."  Johnny leaned close and
brushed his lips against my temple.  "You look beautiful,
Helen."
    "We should really…"
    "Go inside," Orion sighed.  "If I must
share, I must share."
    He kept his word – sharing me with the other
guests.  While Maya fluttered around with hors d'oeuvres trays
and wine refills, Johnny drifted from the great room to the
kitchen.  I wondered how far he'd wander in curiosity about
the new house.  I slipped into the kitchen after him while
Maya played hostess and chatted up the other guests.  I
wondered why they were really here.  Morbid curiosity about my
house?  About me?  Were they aware of the bloody images
of Datello's suffering at my hands playing on a continuous loop in
my blackened brain?
    Orion was standing in the family room,
staring up at a balcony that opened to the recreation room
above.  I wasn't sure he was aware of my presence until he
spoke.
    "You could put a massive Christmas tree in
here."
    "I could, if I celebrated Christmas."
    "Oh, you've got to with a place like
this.  Damn.  I can't believe how incredible the house
looks.  It's hard to believe this was all ash and charred
timber a few months ago."
    "They did use new materials to build the new
house."
    "I like it.  It's very…warm.  Very
you."
    How little you know me .
    "Do you use the fireplace?"
    "Yes.  It's a little chilly here for my
tastes."
    Johnny chuckled.  "Washington has its
share of brutal winters.  It doesn't generally snow in
Darkwater Bay."
    "No, it's just cold and damp and foggy year
round.  We have a saying about summer back east.  It's
not the heat, it's the humidity.  The same applies to the
cold, or so I've learned.  I think I've cleaned out Macy's
winter stock of leather getting ready for when the temperature
really drops."
    "I have a confession to make.  When
Maya told me you were too busy to call, I thought she was giving me
some sort of gal-pal brush off.  I was wrong.  This is
really amazing what you've done."
    "I like it.  It's very different
from…"
    "What you had in D.C.?"
    "Yeah.  We had an old brownstone that
we spent what felt like forever restoring.  There's definitely
something to be said for painting on a