The Immortal Gene Page 2

  “Okay, okay,” Jake cut in. “Got it.”

  Kirk laughed as Jake started the unmarked cruiser down the street.

  “Marriage is tough, bro.”

  Jake eyed him hard for a second before looking back at the road.

  Kirk raised his hands in surrender. “Just saying, man. Just saying.”

  “You’re always just saying.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jeffrey Harris backed into the Marcello driveway and got out, gym bag in hand. Once the car door was closed, he paused to stare out at the field beyond. He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. Something large bounded across the field behind the fence attached to the side of the house. The Marcellos had two huge black horses. Jeffrey figured something must have spooked them. He had no idea horses would run like that in the dark unless they were startled. One of them whinnied as it came up to the fence and stopped to look at him.

  “Don’t worry about Gracie,” a soft voice echoed from the house.

  Jason Marcello, his head stuck out his bedroom window, watched Jeffrey as he watched the horse. He would have to remember that about little Jason. He was sneaky and popped up wherever he wanted. A good boy getting up to little boy antics. Jason would make a fine son.

  “Gracie,” Jeffrey said, rolling the name off his tongue. “And the other horse’s name?”

  “Mary. She’s shyer. My parents went with religious names. You know, Amazing Grace and Mary Magdalene.”

  “Of course,” Jeffrey replied, not surprised.

  The front door opened and Mrs. Marcello stepped out. “I thought I heard you pull up, Mr. Harris. Please, come on in.”

  “Jeff is fine,” he said as he started up the long driveway, his polished black shoes clunking on the cold cement with each step, even through the plastic booties.

  “Then Jeff it is. Call me Melissa.”

  So fake sounding. Her tone, her smile. Underneath it all, this ceremonial dinner was because they thought he was dying and they ought to do the good Christian thing. It would be awkward if he were a normal guest without the cancer tag. But Jeffrey was no normal guest.

  He wiped his feet on the welcome mat at the door and stepped inside, admiring the large foyer that opened up to a center staircase. Little Jason was already on the stairs, watching Jeffrey remove his shoes.

  He stood to his full height, pushed his glasses up, and addressed Mrs. Marcello.

  “I want to thank you for the invite,” Jeffrey said.

  “Oh nonsense.” She glanced downward, then looked up too fast. Mrs. Marcello had seen the clear plastic booties clipped over his shoes but had diverted her eyes to be polite. No doubt feeling awkward, she moved around Jeffrey to slip through an alcove to the right.

  “Anything for a fellow Christian,” Melissa said as she moved away from him. “Stephen should be down any second.”

  Jeffrey smiled at Jason. He pointed at his bag and jerked his head in a come-over-here gesture.

  “Wanna see what I brought?” Jeffrey asked, his tone softer, more approachable.

  Jason’s face lit up as he scurried down the last steps and ran over to Jeffrey. Once Jason stood by the bag, Jeffrey unzipped the side pocket and pulled out a bottle of red wine.

  “Take this to your mom,” he said. “It’s a small thank you for their generosity.”

  Jason bounded away to the kitchen.

  “You shouldn’t have,” Melissa called from the kitchen. “Would you like a drink before dinner?”

  “Sounds nice. Whatever you’re having.”

  Jason returned and stopped in front of Jeffrey.

  “Want a new toy?” Jeffrey asked the boy.

  “A toy?” Jason squinted and looked at him sideways. “I’m a little old for a toy. I’m already twelve.”

  “Not for this kind of toy.”

  Jeffrey pulled out white twist ties.

  “What are those for?” Jason asked.

  “An advanced version of Hide ’n’ Seek. Turn around. I’ll show you.”

  Jason shrugged and turned around. Before Jeffrey could place the ties on Jason’s wrists, Mr. Marcello stepped into the foyer. With Jason in front of him, Jeffrey was able to drop the twist ties back into the bag unnoticed.

  “So glad you could make it,” Stephen said. “I had to take a call in my office.” He shot out his hand.

  Jason moved to the side as Jeffrey shook hands with his father.

  “Easy drive up?” Stephen asked. “Easy to find?”

  “Very easy. Your directions were perfect.”

  Stephen placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “What were you two up to?”

  Jason playfully squirmed out from under the hand. “We were going to play an advanced version of Hide ’n’ Seek.”

  “You were?” Stephen appeared surprised.

  “An old trick I learned years ago,” Jeffrey said. “You wanna play?” he asked Stephen in a child’s voice.

  “You two go ahead. I think I’ll look in on Melissa and see how she’s doing with dinner.”

  “It smells amazing, whatever it is,” Jeffrey said.

  “Roasted duck with an orange marmalade and soy sauce glaze. Melissa’s version of it is simply delicious.”

  “Then I cannot wait for dinner.”

  “C’mon, Mr. Harris.” Jason pulled lightly on his sleeve. “Let’s play.”

  Jeffrey pretended to be pulled sideways and made an apologetic gesture to Stephen as the boy led him toward the stairwell. Little Jason seemed younger than his age. Like his mental growth had been stunted along the way.

  “I’ll be in the kitchen,” Mr. Marcello said.

  Then they were alone. Just the boy and his new father. About to play a game.

  Jeffrey brought the white twist ties out of the bag again and held up two.

  “Place these on first,” he whispered.

  “How?” Jason asked.

  “Turn around. I’ll do it.”

  Jason turned around and offered his hands to Jeffrey. One final look toward the alcove that led to the kitchen, then with deft hands, Jeffrey wrapped the boy’s scrawny limbs tight and clamped the ties so nothing short of a pair of scissors could release them.

  “Ouch,” Jason cried. “Too tight.”

  “That’s needed,” Jeffrey whispered in Jason’s ear.

  He spun Jason around, walked him over and sat him down on the second stair. Jeffrey moved behind him.

  “Hey, what are we doing?” Jason asked. “Aren’t we going to play the game?”

  “Soon. First, I have a game for your parents.”

  “You do?” Jason twisted his head as he tried to look at Jeffrey. “What kind of game? It better be good, because my parents don’t play many games.”

  Jeffrey rifled through his gym bag until he came up with the Magnum. It was the deadliest weapon in the bag and one he had never been forced to use. He removed four more twist ties and two ball gags, then placed everything on the stair beside him.

  “Oh, they’ll play this one. It’s a family game called The Gathering.”

  “How do you play that?” Jason asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  He was ready. The safety on the gun was off. Twist ties beside him. Gym bag open. Child secure. Reading glasses high on the bridge of his nose. All was well in the family that he was about to make his own. Now he just needed the parents so he could begin the game.

  So he could make them his family.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Marcello,” he called. “Could I see you out here a moment?” He leaned down to whisper in Jason’s ear. “You’re going to love this part.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jake dropped Kirk off at his car behind the O.P.P. building and drove home, the image of the Maytag man’s face scrawled on his mind the entire way.

  Cindy’s car was in the driveway. He pulled up behind it and cut the engine. In the silence that followed—except for the intermittent tick from the cooling engine—Jake thought about their upcoming honeymoon.

&n
bsp; The wedding was planned for the end of March. They would fly to Rome immediately after the ceremony. For two weeks, they would tour Rome, Pompeii and Venice. Since Jake didn’t have his parents around and Cindy’s dad had died years ago, the entire cost of the wedding and the honeymoon was coming out of Jake’s pocket. That cost had ballooned, but he’d agreed to go forward with it as this would be his only wedding.

  The bank had the paperwork for a second mortgage on the house but he had to wait until the end of the week to learn if it would be approved.

  If it wasn’t, there would be no honeymoon until after the summer, possibly September or October. There just wasn’t enough money in law enforcement. After living expenses, there was enough left to live comfortably and go on vacation once a year. But a large wedding with a hundred guests and a honeymoon was simply too much to tackle all at once without a little help from the bank.

  How would he break the news to Cindy if the loan wasn’t approved? The biggest dilemma he faced was whether or not he should tell her now or wait until he heard from the bank. If they approved his request, there was no reason to worry her.

  But what about full disclosure? He’d never kept anything from her in the past. This was a big deal. This was her wedding, her honeymoon, as much as his. Yet she hadn’t been brought in on the small details, like whether or not they were even going to Italy.

  He opened the car door, the cool November air rushing against his face. He shivered as he headed for the front of the house.

  Cindy should know. He had to tell her. They could learn the bank’s position on Friday together. She’d understand. It was only fair. The policy of truth had to always trump any debate he had on whether he should talk to Cindy or not. She was going to be his wife. If they couldn’t handle something as trivial as money now, how would they handle terrible news from a doctor later in life?

  Athina, their German Shepherd, bounded toward him as he stepped inside, tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. Athina had been in the K-9 Unit before she’d retired with full honors to live out her life with Jake and Cindy. She was a good dog, well-trained, and kept watch over the house, but her eyesight was fading. It pained Jake to watch Athina deteriorate. After all the service she had given the department, the least he could do was love her until the end.

  Once Athina had moved in with them, Cindy had grown even more attached than Jake as she was the one who spent the most amount of time with her. It made Jake’s heart swell to watch Athina lope around the house, following Cindy wherever she went, sleeping at her feet. But Athina recognized Jake as the alpha, which afforded Jake a different kind of love, even though he was home less than Cindy.

  Two large front paws connected with Jake’s chest as Athina jumped up and tried to lick his face. Her past police training wasn’t always evident when excitement took over.

  “Okay, girl.” Jake wrapped his arms around her and knelt down. “Daddy’s got you.”

  Cindy stepped out of her home office where she designed knitting patterns for magazines. She’d been doing this off and on for years, until suddenly two years back, her work had gotten noticed and Vogue, along with a few other publications—Jake couldn’t always keep them straight—had called upon her for sweater and scarf designs, and socks that could handle stone floors. Scandinavian wool had come in last week for that project.

  “Hey honey,” Cindy hugged his neck while Athina dropped back to all fours. “Missed you. Late night calls?”

  “Is that wine I smell?”

  “Red.” She kissed him, long and hard. “Want some?”

  He nodded, staring at her eyes, then her lips.

  She kissed him again, easing her tongue out. He tasted the wine immediately. Then she pulled back.

  “There,” she said. “You just got some.”

  “I thought maybe I’d use a glass, you know. Although the method you chose works just as well.”

  She turned and stomped to the kitchen. When she looked over her shoulder, he caught the glint in her eye. She loved to toy with him. There was no denying its effectiveness.

  By the time he’d hung up his jacket, she was back with a goblet half full of red. He followed her into her office, which consisted of an easy chair for her knitting, a TV where she watched her tutorials, and a drafting table where she planned and created her designs.

  “That Scandinavian wool working out for you?” he asked.

  “You remembered,” she cooed. “I love that about you, Jake Wood. You listen.”

  “What else is a future husband supposed to do? A man needs to be a good listener.”

  She held up her wine and they clinked glasses. They drank. Should he tell her or wait until Friday when he would know if the loan was approved? In his heart, he felt she needed to know, but didn’t want to cause undue worry.

  “I love the sound of those words,” Cindy said. She dropped into her easy chair. “Future husband.” She stared off into space, lost in thought, a blank expression on her face. “We’re getting married in four months and we’re going on the best trip of our lives.” She blinked, then faced him. “Remember, I want to tour all the knitting stores in Rome I can find. At least two per day.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll research them and plan it into our daily itinerary. All you’ll have to do is join me.”

  “Looking forward to it,” Jake said, watching her from the door. He realized in that moment he wouldn’t say a thing until Friday. He just couldn’t. When he knew whether they were going or not, that would be when she would know.

  “And Jake, don’t worry. This isn’t about me and what I do. This trip is our honeymoon. It’ll be about us. I just want to visit a few stores, see how they do it over there.”

  “I’m looking forward to it, too. When I think about you wandering through a knitting store, touching everything, I see myself wandering through a large bookstore, touching all the books. That’s passion. I love that about you.”

  “As I love that about you,” Cindy whispered.

  She set her glass aside and got up from her chair. In two steps, she stood in front of him, her hands on the top button of his shirt. The image of the Maytag man’s face flashed in his mind and he blinked. Cindy stopped.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Just work. And Luke.”

  “Luke?” She continued unbuttoning his shirt, then stopped. “What about Luke?”

  “You remember he asked me to join him?”

  “In Brazil?” Cindy took a step back.

  Jake nodded. “Did he call today?”

  She shook her head. “Isn’t he working for that ultra secret company up north or something?”

  “Fortech Industries. And they’re not ultra secret, per se, they just handle government contracts.”

  “Which means top secret. Anyway, what about Luke?”

  “I hadn’t given him an answer yet.”

  “We have the money?”

  It was Jake’s turn to ease back. With the wedding coming, how much did she know about his money situation?

  “Luke offered to pay for everything. Three days in Brazil, then back.”

  “You want to go?” she asked.

  “Not really. But I got from Luke that he wanted me to. More like, he needed me to. And I owe him.”

  Cindy stepped back inside his personal space and placed her hands on his shirt. “Let me help you with that,” she said, without waiting for a reply. “I have an idea. I think I can get your mind off work with what I have planned.”

  “I’m sure you can.”

  She opened his shirt. He sipped from his glass, feeling a little guilty that she didn’t know their exact financial situation. He should’ve told her. She needed to know that a second mortgage was necessary. Even after their honeymoon, his mortgage payments would increase for a while. How would she handle that?

  His pants opened at the waist. Cindy slid them down past his knees, then stopped at the ankles. His libido hadn’t responded yet, but he was sure she could chang
e that soon enough.

  As she opened her mouth and applied it to him where he stood in the doorway of her home office, she proved him right. After a minute, he lifted her off the floor and carried her to their bedroom where they moved rhythmically until they finished together, their fingers entwined in a tight grasp, skin glistening in the nightlight by the bed.

  “I love you, Jake Wood,” she whispered in his ear as he lay spent on top of her. “I will always love you.”

  Somewhere in the house, Athina barked once.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Stephen and Melissa Marcello emerged from the alcove by the front foyer and stopped when they saw their son sitting on the stairs in front of Jeffrey, Jason’s hands behind his back.

  “Glad you could join us,” Jeffrey said. He raised the .357 Magnum so they could see it, but kept it behind Jason, out of his line of sight. “We’re going to play a little game.”

  Melissa gasped and held a hand over her mouth. She stepped toward her son, but Stephen grabbed her arm and steadied her. His face had hardened, turned to stone, awash in an angry red. Classic case of a hysterical mother and a thinking, planning father. Jeffrey had seen it several times.

  “My baby,” Melissa called out. “Don’t touch my baby.”

  “We’re going to play a game,” Jason pleaded in his good-natured voice. “It’s okay, Mom.” He tried to turn around to look at Jeffrey, but Jeffrey stopped him. “It’s okay, right, Mr. Harris?”

  “Of course, Jason,” Jeffrey said. “It’s just a little game. Everything will be fine if your parents are interested in playing along.”

  Melissa looked down at the plastic booties on his shoes by the door, then met Jeffrey’s eyes.

  “What do you want us to do?” Stephen asked.

  Jeffrey dug in his bag and pulled out a handful of twist ties. He threw them toward the Marcellos. Then he took off his glasses and set them on the stairs beside him, careful to keep the gun handy while doing so.