The Line

Peter spun me around in his arms. “I like the sound of that, you know. You calling me your boyfriend.”

“I kind of like the sound of it myself,” I responded and rose up on my toes to kiss his lips. I let my kiss linger, and then pressed my head into his chest. His T-shirt felt soft against my skin.

“Peter.” I heard Maisie’s voice call out as she descended the stairs. I turned just enough to see her coming down, Jackson following on her heels. Maisie had changed from her funeral clothes into a black cocktail dress. So she had chosen to go formal for the evening. Next to her, I would look totally underdressed, but next to her, I would always come in second place anyway. Even in an old gray T-shirt and cutoff shorts she was astoundingly beautiful. Dressed like this, it didn’t seem possible that any straight man could resist her. Flawless skin, a small straight nose, and heart-shaped lips that looked great even with no lipstick. Her honey blond hair hung loose, falling for a moment over her sapphire eyes. She brushed it back with her hand.

“Hello, Maisie,” Peter responded. I didn’t want to see his reaction to her—I was sure he’d be as dazzled as any other man—but I couldn’t help myself. I turned to look at him. And in his eyes I saw nothing other than an honest friendliness. Then he looked back at me, and I saw fire. Something rushed from my head all the way to the soles of my feet, and if he hadn’t been holding me, I could very well have keeled over.

“Jackson. Good to see you,” Peter said, his eyes still locked on me. I turned to face the staircase when I heard Jackson’s name. His beautiful features were twisted into a combination of jealousy and barely suppressed rage that I would only have expected if he’d walked in on Peter and Maisie going at it.

Maisie read something in my expression and turned in time to catch what I had seen on Jackson’s face. She swiveled around quickly, pretending not to have noticed, but I knew her too well. I had seen her angry often, and this kind of anger, the cold kind, was the most frightening. “If you are hungry, Peter, there are a ton of leftovers in the kitchen,” she said, descending the rest of the stairs. “You should hurry on back and have some before Iris chases you out of here, though. Family business is going on tonight, and Iris is very limited in her definition of family.”

“I was kind of hoping we could get you out of here for a bit,” Peter said to me. “Mom and Dad asked if we’d stop by the tavern for a while tonight to see them.”

“Nothing doing, son,” Jackson boomed. “Haven’t you heard? Killer on the loose and all that?”

“No, I haven’t heard anything. What’s the hell’s going on?” he asked, addressing me as if we were the only two people in the room.

“The police caught the man they think killed Ginny,” Jackson answered for me. “Some guy named Burke. But he escaped.”

“They aren’t sure he’s through with us yet,” Maisie said. Her mouth pulled into a slight frown and her eyes focused on an empty point a few inches in front of her. Perhaps she was trying to scry, trying to foresee any future danger.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Peter exclaimed, pulling my attention back to him. “How did he escape?”

“Detective Cook said that he just plain disappeared,” I answered.

“He disappeared?” Peter asked. A slight shake of his head and arched eyebrows illuminated his incredulity.

“Poof,” Jackson responded. “Right out of his cell. Mother Jilo done worked her Hoodoo.”

“Mother Jilo?” Peter looked to me for an explanation.

“Burke is her great-grandson,” I responded.

That seemed to be explanation enough for him, although I sure would have liked more information for my own account. I wouldn’t feel right about anything until I knew whether Mother Jilo was responsible for Ginny’s death. “But if they couldn’t keep him in jail,” he asked, “how do they plan to keep him out of this house?”

“My thinking, exactly,” Jackson responded. “That’s why I am going to be staying here until they catch the bastard again. Keep an eye on things.”

“You will have to run that by Connor,” I said. “He and Aunt Iris may have their own opinion—”

Maisie interrupted me. “Connor and Iris have agreed to allow it.”

“But with the ‘family business’…?”

“They aren’t very happy about it, but we’ve told them, Mercy. We’ve told everyone now.” Maisie held up her left hand, proudly displaying the ring she had been wearing around her neck.

“Congratulations, you two!” Peter exclaimed. I knew he was genuinely happy for Maisie, but I suspected he was even happier that Jackson had been officially claimed. I knew it gave him more hope about our own relationship. He let go of me and stepped forward, offering Jackson his hand.

Jackson leaned away from Peter, and looked at him through narrowed eyes. There was no warmth on his face as he gave Peter’s hand a single pump. “Thanks,” he said, letting Peter’s hand fall.

Maisie’s face froze as she took note of Jackson’s lack of enthusiasm. “Yes, thank you so much,” she said. “We are very happy not to be keeping it a secret any longer. We waited for a while out of respect for Ginny, but it seemed like the family could use a little good news.”

“Good news? Hell, I say it’s great news!” Peter said. He reached out and pulled Maisie into a hug, nearly lifting her off the ground. “When’s the wedding?” He was beaming.

“We haven’t discussed that yet,” Maisie responded. She seemed a bit put off by the degree of his gusto.

“Let her go,” Jackson said, but Peter didn’t seem to notice the other man’s threatening tone. Still smiling, he released Maisie from his embrace and took me into his arms, rocking me a little from side to side. Jackson’s expression of annoyance hardened into a look of hate. I’d never thought that Jackson was capable of looking ugly, but the set of his jaw combined with the loathing in his eyes changed him.

“Hello, Peter.” I heard Ellen’s voice call out from behind us. She was coming from the direction of the library.

“And good-bye, Peter.” Connor was right on Ellen’s heels, and his protruding stomach was practically pushing her along. Iris circled in front of him, shaking her head. “Really, Connor, there’s no need to be rude,” she said and then she addressed Peter. “I want you to know you are always welcome here, my dear, but I am afraid you have chosen a bad time to come calling. We’d love to have you back for dinner tomorrow, but we have things that the family must attend to tonight. I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, ma’am. I do understand, and I do not mean to intrude, but Jackson was telling me about this Burke guy. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to stay so that I can help keep an eye on…things,” he looked warmly at me, making it clear that I was his only concern. “I promise I won’t interfere with whatever it is y’all need to handle tonight. I’ll stay out of the way. I just want to be nearby in case I’m needed.” He paused and put his arm around my shoulders. “I think Mercy would like me to stay.” He looked to me for confirmation, and I realized that I did want him near. I was confused all right, but one thing I knew was that Peter always had—and always would—make me feel safe.