Snapdragon

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next morning, Chris stood in the bathroom, looking at the four oval bruises on his neck. When he turned his head to study the bruises, he felt a twinge of pain and groaned. He ran a hand over his forehead and then his mouth. The areas were sore, but his lingering headache was worse. Hopefully the pain and bruises wouldn’t put a damper on his night with James.

Chris stepped into his bedroom, then tossed the end of a gray comforter over the pillows. His gaze was on the two sets of French doors to the right of the bed that led to the deck and the backyard. They had been the reason Chris had bought the house four years ago. He loved the natural light they let in, loved to open them and listen to the rain. But this morning, he wondered if the doors left him vulnerable.

He sighed, looking at the chaise lounge and table on the deck through the open blinds. It wouldn’t do any good to give into fear, so he pushed that thought away and decided to make breakfast.

After dressing in jeans and a maroon T-shirt, Chris went down the hall, toward the living room, which shared one open space with the dining room. They were separated from the kitchen by a wall with a pass-thru. All were decorated in light shades of brown, accented with the sunlight from the front picture window

Dylan sat at the wooden dining room table, the heaviness of his mood casting darkness into the morning. He was hunched over the laptop, so engrossed in his work that he didn’t even acknowledge Chris’s arrival. James had been right when he said that Dylan had more to worry about than their dinner date.

“What’s going on?” Chris asked.

“I’m not sure,” Dylan said as he sat back in his chair. He ran his hands over his short blond hair before stretching his muscular arms out wide. On the laptop screen before Dylan was a news article with the headline about John Darton’s arrest along with a picture of his wrinkled face and gray hair that made him seem unassuming.

Caught in the menacing glare of Darton’s eyes, Chris wondered what had led the aging man to murder. “Do you think there’s a connection?”

Dylan sighed.

The door opened in the guest bedroom across from Chris’s. Ron stepped out with his arms through a black T-shirt, then pulled it over his head, exposing his tanned six-pack before he pulled the shirt down as he approached. He grinned at Chris. “Morning.”

Chris smiled at him, then looked away. “I’m going to make breakfast. You guys want anything?”

“Eggs,” Dylan said.

“Whatever you want to fix. I’ll eat anything,” Ron said.

“Okay,” Chris said and then went to the kitchen. To his left, three white cabinets led up to a black side-by-side refrigerator. Across from it, an island stood in the middle of the U-shaped layout. A small window was over the sink, providing a view of the Dogwood trees that separated his yard from his neighbor’s.

Aware that Ron was following him, Chris went to the refrigerator to get the eggs. He shut the door and then turned around to find Ron leaning against the cabinet to the left of the stove. “Are omelets okay?”

“Sure,” Ron said. “I wanted to see how you were doing?”

“I’m sore, but I’ll be okay.” He placed the egg carton on the black countertop of the island.

“Are you going for your morning jog?”

“A run,” Chris said, “no, not today.”

“Good. I’d have to go, too, and I’d probably have a heart attack,” Ron said, scratching at the stubble on his cheek.

“You’d go?”

Ron nodded. “Bodyguard.”

“Oh.” Chris grabbed a skillet from the cabinet to the right of the stove, then glanced at Ron. “You wanna start running with me? Keep you in shape.”

“No, thank you,” Ron said, then moved closer to him. “Let me look at you.” Ron gently tilted Chris’s face so he could see the bruises, then winced, but didn’t let him go.

Chris stayed in Ron’s hold as his heart sped up. With their faces just inches apart, he wasn’t sure if Ron wanted to steal a kiss, or if he was just honestly concerned.

“I’m sorry about this guy attacking you,” Ron said quietly as he stepped back, slowly breaking their contact. “We should have been there for you.”

“I can take care of myself.” Chris returned to making breakfast. “It wasn’t my first fight.”

“I know. This time is different, though.”

Chris looked at him, shrugging.

Ron said, “He’s after you, you know that.”

“The knife through the face kind of gave that away, but being attacked really solidified it,” he said.

Ron nodded and looked down. “That scared me,” he said quietly.

“Me, too.”

“We’ll catch this guy. We won’t let you get hurt again. One of us will be with you to make sure of that.”

Chris glared at him. “You’re telling me I can’t be left alone?”

“Yes.”

“Are you two just going to move in here?”

“Maybe,” Ron said with a shrug.

“I have a date tonight, which you two aren’t invited to.”

“We’ll have to talk about that,” Ron said as he shifted his gaze to the stove. “Maybe you should change your plans.”

Chris shook his head. “Is this just a grand scheme to keep me from dating James?”

“No, we just need a plan to keep you safe. You can go on your date, we’ll just stay some distance behind to be out of sight.”

“You forget that James is a police officer.”

“And we’re happy for him,” Ron said with a nod. “But you know Dylan and I won’t trust your safety with anyone but us.”

Chris let out a sigh. It wasn’t Ron who he’d have to talk out of that plan.

“I won’t tease you anymore, or call you Snapdragon,” Ron said.

“Wow,” Chris said, “you’re breaking up with me before we’re even together.”

“You have Hotshot now; you don’t need me,” Ron said.

“Are you jealous?”

“No,” Ron scoffed.

Chris grinned. “If you want to take me to dinner or something, I’d like that.”

“I’m not jealous,” Ron said strongly.

Chris smiled as he went to the fridge to get the butter, then returned to the stove.

“Hotshot’s going to be one lucky man to have you,” Ron said in a quiet tone.

“His name is James.”

“I just never pictured you with a guy like James,” Ron said.

“Oh?” he said, looking at Ron. “Who did you picture? You?”

A blush rose to Ron’s face. “No,” he said, looking away from Chris. “Just someone else. Not him.” His gaze returned to Chris. “He’ll put work before you, just know that. I know what jerks cops can be at home. Ask my ex-wife.”

“We’re just having dinner,” Chris said

Ron nodded. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll be okay.” He turned his focus back to making breakfast and took a bowl from the cabinet. “He still pissed?” he asked, nodding in Dylan’s direction.

Ron shrugged.

“You know he thinks we’re lying to him, that we’re dating and not telling him,” Chris said, then glanced at Ron. “He probably stayed last night to make sure we didn’t do anything.” He took an egg from the carton, cracked it on the edge of the bowl and let it drop inside, then tossed the shell into the sink.

“I wouldn’t dare cross him when it comes to you. I know I don’t pass his qualifications,” Ron said. “He tells me all the time to leave you alone. Soon as he snaps out of his mental quandary, he’ll realize we’re alone in here and he’ll be in. He is concentrating, so I give it a few minutes.”

“So true.” Chris grabbed another egg. “How would anyone know about Snapdragon, though?”

Ron shrugged. “Maybe the guy just likes dangerous-looking flowers.”

“You think I’m like a dangerous-looking flower?” he asked, resting the egg on the edge of the bowl and looking at Ron.

Ron smiled. “Oh, I know not to be deceived by your beauty.”

Chris looked away from Ron’s enchanting smile, shaking his head. “You are trouble.”

“I’d better get back to him,” Ron said, nodding toward the dining room. “Hey, if James makes you happy, then I hope it works out. You deserve to be happy.” He ran a hand across Chris’s back as he walked out of the kitchen.

There was a sweetness to Ron that warmed Chris’s heart. Since Ron was Dylan’s best friend, he’d hated to admit his own attraction to him; but after Ron’s divorce, he’d grown closer to the charming man. In moments like this, when it felt so natural to have Ron near him, he let his crush take hold. Ron was the man he compared all others to, even James.

Chris smiled as he thought about Ron when Dylan stepped into the kitchen. The disapproving expression on Dylan’s face made him lose his smile. He held Dylan’s gaze, hoping that would erase whatever Dylan believed he’d caught Chris and Ron doing.

“Come look at these,” Dylan said as he turned to lead him to the dining room. Several photographs lay on the table, scattered between the laptops and file folders. Dylan collected them and then handed them over to Chris. The first image was of Ron kissing his cheek, the familiar threat scrawled across the front.

“I received one like this the other day, before the set-up last night,” Ron said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Chris asked.

“I just thought it was Terry trying to get at me, that it had to do with the divorce or that she was pissed at me,” he said quietly. “I was wrong.”

Chris looked at the remaining pictures. Although he couldn’t see the young woman’s face clearly through her tangled, bloodied hair, he knew she was the victim they’d found the night before.

“Jennifer Matthews,” Dylan said. “She disappeared Wednesday night.”

In the next picture, Chris recognized Charity Grobin, who had been found in a motel room Monday night, stabbed. She appeared to be looking at the flowers around her, only her eyes were vacant. “Where’d you get these?” he asked, trying not to think too deeply about the fear and pain the young woman had experienced.

“They were left on the windshield. I found them this morning,” Dylan said.

“Here?” Chris gasped.

Dylan glanced at Chris as he tightened his jaw. “I checked the video on the security cameras and there’s just the guy in the mask, like last night. He ran off, probably to the same car.”

A sickness rolled through him. “How could we not know he was here?”

“I was awake all night,” Dylan said. “I never heard a thing. The porch motion light came on, but I didn’t see anything when I looked. He must have run off quickly, like he just meant to terrorize us.”

“It worked,” Chris said.

Dylan nodded.

Chris looked at Ron. “Who could be doing this?”

“I wish I knew,” Ron said.

Chris laid the photos on the table as he let out a frustrated sigh. “So, what do we do now?”

Dylan walked away from him, rubbing his face as he muttered, “Shit.” He turned to look at Chris. “You know the Darton case.”

“How could I forget?” Chris said. “You two were stressed out over catching him for months.”

“Well, there was also another man accused of the murders who we didn’t arrest: Charles Garoutte.” Dylan looked at Ron, then at Chris. “There was evidence against him, but the prosecutor didn’t feel we had a case and our superiors didn’t see one, so he wasn’t arrested.”

“Do you think he was guilty?” Chris asked, looking at each of them in turn.

“No,” Ron said.

“The case looked good, but it wasn’t real,” Dylan said.

“Wasn’t real?” Chris said.

“We were all pretty confident he wasn’t involved,” Dylan said. “He was the type who wanted his fifteen minutes of fame and attached himself to the case.”

“He was a bastard,” Ron said.

Dylan nodded.

“Okay. So how do we get from two years ago to these two women’s deaths and snapdragons?” Chris asked. “Did Darton leave snapdragons?”

“No,” Ron said. “He usually bought random flowers on the way to his victim’s place, anything pretty.”

“Gentleman,” Chris said with a nod. “The Gentleman Killer.”

Ron nodded.

Dylan let out a heavy sigh. “All we have to go on is that maybe Garoutte was guilty. Maybe Darton didn’t do it or didn’t act alone.” He shrugged. “Darton is still in prison. We’ve lost the trail on Garoutte, though.”

“It’s not the cops who are getting the photographs and the threats, it’s us, all three of us,” Ron said. “Maybe someone’s bitter about us catching Darton and wants to see if we can do it again.”

“And if the killer wanted to hurt us,” Dylan said, “you’re connected to both of us and could be who he sets out to hurt.”

Chris turned to Ron. “Who would know that you call me Snapdragon other than us and your family?”

Ron shrugged. “I could’ve called you that at any time and not even realized I said it.”

“You tell me all the time that you love him,” Dylan said, with his usual disgust.

“I do not,” Ron said.

Chris looked at him. “You do?”

“No,” Ron said.

“The point is,” Dylan said, “it is possible that you said or did something.”

Ron let out a frustrated sigh.

“All that matters is that we stop the killer. Why were these women victims?” Dylan took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “If it’s not Garoutte, then it’s a copycat with a serious intent to hurt us.” He met Chris’s eyes as he quietly added, “Hurt you.”

Chris bowed his head.

“We need to see if any flower shops sold any snapdragons recently,” Dylan said.

“The killer could be growing them to avoid attention,” Ron said.

Dylan nodded.

“So we track down Garoutte,” Chris said. “See if he’s the suspect again. Give the cops a lead.”

Dylan nodded. “He’s about the best suspect we have,” he said, but his words held a tone of uncertainty. “There’s not a lot of people who still think about the Darton case. The only detectives left from the first case are Hotshot, Skinner, and Reynolds.” Dylan looked at Ron. “What if it’s Hotshot?”

“No,” Chris said.

“He worked the case with us,” Dylan said to him. “He knew the details about the case that weren’t made public. We got the credit for catching the killer and stole his thunder. He didn’t get any recognition. As important as his career is to him, he could set this up to solve it and be a public hero.”

“He’s not a killer,” Chris said.

“It is odd that he’s suddenly in your life,” Dylan said. “He knows you mean a lot to both of us. He could target you to hurt us as payback for the case. He might even know about the nickname. Ron is known for his nicknames.”

“James didn’t target me,” Chris said. “He’s single again, that’s all.” He let out a huff. “I can’t just have a boyfriend, can I?”

“Not if he’s a killer,” Dylan said.

“He’s not,” Chris said. “We’ve been friends for several years. So, what, two years later, he sets this all up and starts killing when his career is so important to him? And you know he’s guilty because he’s meeting me for breakfast and goes running with me, which is typical serial killer behavior.”

“It could be. Maybe he snapped?” Dylan shrugged. “Maybe he just needed time to plan? I don’t know. I just have to look at all the possibilities.”

Chris looked away from them, thinking Ron probably shared Dylan’s thoughts about James.

“We just have to keep you safe,” Ron said quietly.

“You two can’t be around me all the time,” Chris said.

“This creep knows where you live, and security or not, we can’t trust that you’re safe here alone,” Dylan said with an angry tone.

Chris took a step back from his brother, looking out the front window instead of Dylan’s tense expression.

Dylan took a few more steps, then turned toward Ron. “The bastard was here, probably studying the house for any weaknesses in security.”

Ron sighed as he rubbed his eyes. “He knew we were here. Maybe he hoped we’d see him and pursue him to get us out of the house.”

“Has your security been tested?” Dylan asked Chris. “Anyone tried the doors or windows or walked around the yard?”

“Not that I’m aware of. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong.”

“So, what was the goal?” Dylan said, pacing slower. He took a few more steps before he stopped and met Ron’s gaze. “Maybe he just wanted to let us know that he’s watching us.”

Ron said, “Playing a game.”

“It’s just a game, and it’s going to get worse before it gets better.” Dylan took a few steps forward, then turned and walked back. He looked at Chris. “I don’t think you should stay here for a while.”

“Where would I go?”

“Anywhere,” Dylan said with a shrug. “Out of state would be great.”

He laughed. “Like I could just move to Florida and live with Aunt Patty?”

“Yes,” Dylan said, his face lighting up. “That’s perfect.”

“No. You two will just have to solve this like you always do,” Chris said.

“And we will solve this,” Dylan said, “but we’re going to keep you safe first, and that means you’ll do what we tell you. I’m very serious about that.”

Chris scoffed.

“You have a gun here, right?” Dylan said.

“Yes, but—”

“Keep it handy.”

With a sigh, Chris shook his head. Maybe it was a good idea to stay at Aunt Patty’s, but he’d only feel safe with Dylan and Ron near him. “You’re just not going on my date with me tonight.”

Dylan nodded, but Chris suspected his brother was just giving him the reaction he wanted. Frustrated, he left them and returned to the kitchen to make the breakfast he’d never started. As he cooked, he listened to Dylan and Ron making plans in the living room, but he tried to ignore them. He grabbed his phone and texted James, saying that there’d be four for dinner, then hoped James didn’t text back that he was canceling.