Brown and de Luca Collection, Volume 1 by Maggie Shayne

Author:Maggie Shayne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA Books
Published: 2019-09-04T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWO

I walked into the little diner like a model walking into a shoot, slow motion, wind in my hair, sun glinting off my pearly whites. In my head, anyway. In real life I’m sure it was a lot less impressive, especially considering that the wind in my hair had turned into a wet November gust, and there was no longer any sun to glint off anything.

It was mud season. October had been spectacular to my brand-new eyes. I’d devoured October. November was just brown. The trees were leafless. There was no snow yet. The ground was barren. Mud season came twice a year, I’d been told. It would return again in March.

Then I saw him, and my mind went as barren as the surroundings. He was standing in front of a booth talking to a waitress when he looked up, met my eyes and smiled. Those sexy dimples flashed at me, and I almost threw up a little from the sheer nervous energy break dancing in my stomach. I know, stupid. I realized I was grinning like a loon and tried to stop, but it wasn’t possible, so I just hurried to the booth and slid into it before he could try to hug me. Because if he hugged me, I was going to go into convulsions or something.

He stood there a second, then sighed and sat down. “Hello, Rachel. Nice to see you again. You look fantastic. How have you been?”

I looked up, catching the edge of sarcasm in his voice. He had the prettiest brown eyes. Like melted chocolate, with those thick lashes you expect on a little boy, not a grown man. He could get any woman he wanted with lashes like that.

“I’ve been good,” I said. “Busy.”

“No more dreams?”

“Not a one. I presume that means no more murders.”

“Not by any of my brother’s organ recipients, anyway.”

I gave a quick look around us when he said that, because really, no one knew but us that his dead brother had been a serial killer, or that a couple of the people who’d received his donated organs had continued his crimes, or that I had seen those crimes being played out in my dreams, presumably because I’d received his corneas. No one knew. And if they did, they wouldn’t believe it.

Both the guys who’d carried on Eric’s crimes were dead. One had taken himself out, and the other had almost killed us. But in the end, we won. End of case.

“How about you?” I asked, ’cause that was the thing to do when you hadn’t seen someone in a while.

“I’m good. Busy. Tying up the last few loose ends so I can move on. Looking forward to that. Moving on.”

“I’ll bet. What about the boys?” His nephews, sons of a serial killer who had no idea what their father had been.

“Jeremy’s depressed. Josh is…well, Josh is Josh.”

“Jeremy’s sixteen. Isn’t that a synonym for depressed?”

“Seventeen. His birthday was last week.”

“Wow. Hard to believe. And how about their mom? She have the baby yet?”

“Any day now,” he said.

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