Page 55 of Booked for Murder

My mother glared in my refrigerator. “You’re going to make us eat takeout, aren’t you?”

“I have pasta in the cupboard, but most of the types I have need milk, which Bradley drank after trying to eat my favorite food.”

The twin sighs from the kitchen broke me, and I giggled.

“This is not funny!” my mother complained, stomping her foot.

“It’s hilarious, Mom. I basically live in poverty, and you’re the kind to want to make masterpieces at home. Sorry, but I’m just not equipped for your wonderful cuisine.”

My mother pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and dialed a number. “She’s hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. When you’re out looking at coffee makers, get a pot and pan set. I can’t work in these conditions, Bradley. How can I cook for my little lady when she has a few packages of processed chemicals with unnatural flavorings in her cupboard? Do you even own a pot, Janette?”

I pointed at the appropriate cabinet with my lone frying pan and single pot.

“She has the cheapest frying pan money can buy, and I’m taking this pot home with me so I can break it at my leisure. If you bring everything over tonight, I’ll cook for you and that poor bodyguard of yours, but this cannot be allowed. This must be fixed.”

I held out my hand for my mother’s phone. “Let me talk to him, Mom.”

“Hold on a moment, apparently, my daughter wishes to speak with you.” My mother marched into the living room and gave me her phone.

A quick check of the display confirmed she’d called Bradley. “While it’s true I have a cheap frying pan and a pot about to make my mother cry, my kitchen does have limited space. Don’t encourage her too much.”

Bradley chuckled. “I’m a whole five blocks away, and the store that I’m at has pots and pans. It’s no problem to pick something up to make your mother happy. I’ve been around your mother often enough to know she’ll go on a rampage if left unsatisfied. There’s a grocery store across the street, so I can replace your milk and get anything else you need for dinner. I can even come back after Ren drags me to this damned dealership we have an appointment at later.”

“I could go for a roast and vegetables that normally go with roasts, and whatever the hell spices go with a roast.”

“I can do that. You know what? I’ll just call the dealership and pay for whatever the hell vehicle Ren is making me buy and pick it up in the morning. That’ll save me that errand. Anything you want while I’m at the grocery?”

The thought of Bradley going to a grocery store stunned me, and I spluttered. While I floundered, my father took my mother’s phone out of my hand. “My daughter seems to be having difficulty coming to terms with the situation. What was your question? Ah. I see. Use your best judgment, and we’ll text you if we need any specific ingredients. You can restore Janette’s sense of normality discussing the realistic ways to kill people through exsanguination when you get here. It’ll make her feel useful. All right. Be careful, and we’ll see you soon.” My father set my mother’s phone on the coffee table. “Roast is on the menu, the boy is going to check recipes online to make sure he has everything, and you will substitute the butter for something that won’t try to kill him.”

“I can work with that.” My mother returned to the couch. “Be honest with us, Janette. Do you think you can catch this killer?”

“Well, I’m certainly going to try. I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to get my shooting skills back up to the level needed to qualify. I used to be good, but I’m out of practice now. I haven’t touched a gun since the accident.”

“While we won’t be a direct part of the cell, we’ve volunteered to support your team. Our house makes a good place to host meetings, and we have a good security system installed. Mr. Hampton insisted on it, and he uses our property line for exercises with his security teams. One team tries to infiltrate our property while the other team tries to stop them.”

I frowned. “But why? Mr. Hampton doesn’t work in securities.”

“He does now. He wants to train entire teams of people like you were trained to guard Bradley. That will allow him to work the private security sector, which is a pretty hot market, especially with the killings. He doubts even the Secret Service could have stopped Senator Godrin’s death, but if there’s a way, he wants to find it. He might ask you to help with the training. You can tag people without hurting them—or them noticing.”

I grimaced. I’d developed a way of forming unique blood blisters to mark someone in a non-lethal fashion. The blisters, which I could place in any shape, could serve as definitive proof of presence at the scene of a crime. As far as I knew, I was one of the very few who had the finesse required to leave such a mark without also doing permanent damage to my target. “My brands.”

“Yes.”

“Not without a lot of practice first. I’m too rusty for that, Mom.”

“But if they can catch you branding them, they might be able to prevent another murder. That’s the ultimate goal with this, right? To prevent more killings.”

“And find out who did it and why. That’s also important. We don’t know anything yet.”

“We know enough.”

“We do?”

My mother’s smile had a cold edge to it. “We do. We know that whoever is behind this wants people to know they are willing to kill for their cause. We know the victims are all associated with a rather unpleasant bill being pushed by select politicians. That gives three realistic options.”

Since when had my mother been the kind to speculate about such brutal murders? “You never thought I’d done it, had you?”

“Of course not, baby.” My mother’s smile turned sad. “Don’t get me wrong. You’ve killed. You’ll kill again. But you’re not the kind to kill without fully accepting responsibility for the life you’ve taken. I saw you after the first time you killed to protect him. You knew what you’d become, and it changed you. It was only a few weekends after that you started sneaking off to volunteer at the hospital. To you, saving lives could almost undo the ones you ended in the line of duty. I might be an old woman, but I’m not blind. You have a chance to stop more death, so you’ll do everything you can. We can’t help you as much as we’d like. We just don’t have the skills or magic, but there are things we can do, and we’ll do that. Our home should be safe enough for you to work. We can listen. And when the rest forget you’re human, we’ll remember.”