Rock point collection, p.106
Rock Point Collection, page 106
As of yesterday, three of those unknown boys have been identified. The first one we matched was a boy who disappeared in June of 2013 on a school trip to Arches National Park in Utah. He was never found. The other two disappeared from the Grand Junction area. One was found wandering along the Colorado River near Palisade, nine days after he went missing in 2017, and the third boy was gone for two weeks just last year before he turned up sitting on his own front step. Both boys claimed not to remember what happened and both showed evidence of having been sexually assaulted. The cases were never connected.
They are now.
The similarities in the cases we uncovered are undeniable. All the kids fit the same general physical description, were between nine and twelve, and were avid gamers. I bet we’ll find the same is true for the kids in the remaining two pictures, once we identify those.
God only knows how many similar cases there are. How many of these kids are still missing.
There’s enough to make a case against Peter Grunsberg, but any case against Keswick is purely circumstantial.
Last night, all information we uncovered was handed over to Yeager. He planned to interview Grunsberg again today, confronting him with some of the evidence. So far most of what we found is good evidence against Peter—including the semen found on Seth’s body which turned out to be his—but there isn’t really anything concrete to tie in Keswick.
That’s what I’m hanging around the office for, a call from Damian who’s sitting in on the interview in Farmington. Hopefully with some good news.
“It’s just that…were you and Max are still planning to be here for dinner?”
Marya’s voice draws me from my thoughts and I take a quick look at my watch. It’s already five thirty.
“Absolutely,” I tell her, realizing I’m wasting time at the office when I could—should—be spending time with her.
I’ve been eating and breathing this investigation, and as much as I’d like to wrap this case up in a tidy package, so there can be some closure for God knows how many parents out there, I can’t lose sight of my own family. The one we’ve only just started building.
Time for me to adjust my priorities and head home.
If anything new comes up, there’s always the phone.
“I just need to swing by my folks to pick up Max, and run home to pack our bags. Is six thirty okay?”
“Six thirty is perfect.”
“Anything you want me to pick up?”
“Mom did groceries, so we’ve got food bulging out of the fridge. But…”
I can hear the sound of a sliding door and I’m guessing she stepped on the back deck.
“But what?”
“Do we need condoms?”
Immediately my cock stirs to life, pressing against the fly of my jeans at the promise of sliding inside her bare. “Clean as of my last annual checkup and there’s been only you, so you tell me.”
Her hissed breath before she answers has the hair stand up on my arms.
“I’m on the pill and I’m clean. There…there hasn’t been anyone in years.”
The small hesitation only highlights how fucking lucky I am she let me in. “How likely is it we can get the boys to bed right after dinner?”
“Not,” she answers on a snicker, “but the anticipation will be sweet while we watch Aquaman. I promised the boys we’d rent it.”
“You one of those women with a thing for Momoa?”
Another snicker.
“Maybe. But think, once the credits roll, all that lustful attention will divert to you.”
She laughs heartily at my involuntary growl.
“Did you pack clean underwear and socks, Kiddo?” I ask Max, as he comes barreling down the stairs.
“I couldn’t find any clean ones.”
Shit. I haven’t even thought about doing laundry lately. “Hang tight, I’ll go grab the basket. We’ll just have to do it at Marya’s.”
“Dad?” Max pipes up when I carry down an overflowing basket with dirty laundry.
“Yeah, Max.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier if we just moved into their house?”
From the mouths of babes.
Still, it’s only been a couple of months we’ve become more than just acquaintances. Although, technically, I’ve known Marya for a few years. Sure, from a distance mostly, but I’ve always been well aware of her, waiting for an opportunity.
“It would and it’s the direction we’re moving in, but a lot has happened in the past few weeks, and I think maybe everyone needs a little breather before we make that official.”
My easy-going son shrugs his shoulders. “It’s a pain, Dad. I have three beds, one here, one at Grammy’s, and now one at Marya’s, and sometimes I don’t know which one I’ll be sleeping in.”
He’s right. Of everyone, Max has been shuffled around a lot and has taken it all in stride, so I never really thought to take that into consideration, but I should. I ruffle his hair.
“Good point, kid. Maybe we should all sit down this weekend and talk about it.”
I look around our modest house and although comfortably familiar, it’s never really represented home to me. In truth, I much prefer Marya’s rambling house, more so because she’s there.
My phone rings in my pocket. The office.
“Gotta take this call, Max. Grab my keys and start hauling stuff to the truck, okay?”
“Can I start it?” he asks, a big grin on his face.
“Over my dead body.”
“That can be arranged,” the smart-ass quips with a grin, before snagging the keys from the table and making for the door.
I quickly answer the call. “Barnes.”
“You sitting down?” Jasper asks.
“Sure,” I lie.
“Grunsberg is singing.”
“No shit?”
“Nope. Got scared when Yeager shoved the pictures from his camera in his face. Told him he’s going down for all charges related to these cases and any other one we can find. Grunsberg was quick to implicate Connor Keswick. Confirmed he was sexually molested during the entire time living in Keswick’s house. According to him, he continued being a victim at boarding school until his senior year when he became predator instead of prey.”
“Jesus.”
“Oh, it gets better. He stayed in the New England states until he happened to read an article that mentioned his stepfather’s company, Contechs, had nailed a major international contract seven years ago. He came back to Colorado, threatened Keswick with exposure for a payoff, who turned around and offered him a better deal.”
“Let me guess, Keswick foots the bills while Grunsberg finds the next victim to feed their sick sexual proclivity. Both reap the so-called rewards.”
“Bingo. We may never know how many victims they’ve left out there, but apparently the law had come a little too close when he was questioned about the boy that went missing from the school trip to the park. Grunsberg was the school bus driver. Keswick got nervous and thought his stepson should get married. Less likely to stand out as a potential suspect when you’ve got a wife and kids.”
“His daughter’s college friend.”
“He remembered her family was from Grand Junction.”
“Right in his wheelhouse. She clearly didn’t have a clue what she was getting into.”
“From the way he tells it, she didn’t even know he was connected to the Keswick family. She and Sylvia lost touch.
A long entangled history but all the pieces are starting to connect.
“Did he talk about what happened to Seth?”
“According to Grunsberg, Keswick killed him when the poor kid came to just while he was being assaulted. When asked why his DNA was all over the boy, he confessed he’d been so worked up he masturbated on his body. Frustrated, he’d abducted Thomas shortly after, but Keswick kept postponing their plans, and Grunsberg finally decided to keep the boy for himself and find a ‘fresh’ one for his stepfather.”
“Liam,” I conclude.
“Yes.”
“Christ, I’ve seen the worst of the worst in this job and I can usually distance myself, but this one will leave a shadow I’ll never be able to shake.”
“I hear you, brother. One last thing; this morning Luna saw Sylvia at the Arrow’s Edge compound and asked her about Alba, the nanny. Turns out it was Keswick who told her about the family emergency. She never spoke with Alba directly.”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking? The nanny knew something or saw something?”
“Another thing we won’t know for sure unless and until a body turns up.”
Marya
I’m in the kitchen when Dylan lets himself and Max in the front door. His eyes immediately zoom in on me, and the heat they radiate has my nipples tighten and a charge shoot straight down between my legs.
It’s going to be a long night.
“Are the boys downstairs?” Max asks, yanking me back to reality.
“Try saying hello first, Kiddo,” Dylan rumbles.
“Sorry.” Max detours from the top of the basement stairs to the kitchen, where he wraps his arms around my waist. “Hey, Marya.”
I hug him close for a minute and press a kiss to his head. “I’ve missed you, Max. Head on downstairs, the boys have been anxiously awaiting your arrival. Oh,” I call after him. “And tell them dinner in five minutes.”
“Make that fifteen, kid!” Dylan yells downstairs before stalking over to me.
I don’t even get a chance to say hi before his mouth slams down on mine, his tongue claiming. Large hands lift me up under my arms and plant my ass on the counter, right next to the plates I’d already pulled down. All I’ve been able to do is curl my fingers in his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. His hips wedge between my legs, pressing the wide ridge of his hard shaft against my heat.
Fuck. How are we ever going to manage to stay dressed until the boys go to bed?
“God, I missed you,” he mumbles against my lips, when he finally lets me up for air.
Any uncertainties about where we stand after only talking a few times this past week fly right out the window. There is no doubt this man wants to be here—with me.
“I love you, Dylan,” I whisper back. “A week is too long.”
He suddenly takes a step back, looking at me intently. “For real? Because Max and I want to move in.”
It takes my mind a moment to process, but my body is already on board, judging by the butterflies bouncing around my stomach.
“Max?” I finally ask.
“Kid told me it didn’t make sense to move back and forth all the time. I happen to agree with that.”
I tilt my head to the side and look at him from under my lashes. “So moving in here would be a convenience?”
“Fuck, yeah,” Dylan says, as he smirks. “I even brought our laundry.” He grins even wider when my mouth falls open.
“You’re serious?” I snap. I’m all for combining our households, but not so I can be a convenient housekeeper.
I’m pissed and slide off the counter, trying to push him out of the way, but he cages me in with his solid arms. All I can do is turn my head away when he leans close enough I feel his breath against my ear.
“Serious as a heart attack, Sweetheart. I love you, love your boys—and Max fucking loves everyone—and I want to come home to you every day.” I feel myself melting as his lips kiss that soft spot behind my ear. “And for the record, I’m happy to take on everyone’s laundry, just don’t ask me to fold shit.”
“Tease,” I grumble, ineffectively punching his shoulder. When I turn my head, his face is inches from mine, a warm smile in his eyes.
“What do you say, Marya?”
“We need to work out logistics. I want the boys all to have their own space.”
“Agreed.”
“We have to consolidate rules, chores, that kind of stuff. It should be the same for all of them.”
“Of course.”
“If there’s anything we disagree on, we talk to each other first.”
“Always.”
He brushes hair from my face and leaves his hand against my cheek, bending in for a kiss.
I take in a deep breath before I lay out my last condition.
“And my boys have to be on board.”
I know this might be the one thing holding us back from making such a big move, but it’s important to me. They’ve been through a lot of stuff they had no control over, they deserve to have a voice in this.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I should’ve known that would be his response. He’s a fantastic father, not only great with his son, but with my boys as well. Of course he would have their best interests at heart.
“In that case—yes. I say yes.”
He lets out a loud, “All right,” lifting me off my feet and swinging me around.
“Can we eat already?” Harry’s voice interrupts, just as our lips touch for a celebratory kiss.
With a groan Dylan sets me down on my feet and I turn to my youngest. “Yes, call up your brothers.”
Brothers.
The word slips out without thinking, but I guess that’s what the four of them will be. I look at Dylan and he winks.
“Why don’t you ever make pot roast, Dad?”
He turns to Max. “Because I wouldn’t know where to start. But your dad grills a good steak and pretty damn juicy hamburgers.”
“Mom’s burns our burgers,” Theo volunteers, and I shoot him a dirty glare.
“I do not. I just like them a little crispy.”
The guys collectively snort. I groan when I realize I’ll be dramatically outnumbered in a house with five men.
Dylan just grins. “Your mom can do the fancy cooking, I’ll man the grill.”
“Sweet,” Liam says, shoving back his chair.
“Scrape plates before you put them in the dishwasher,” I remind him, like I have to remind the boys every night. “Liam has dish duty tonight. You’re on tomorrow, Max.”
I’m testing the waters, but he simply says, “Sure.”
“Can we watch Aquaman now?”
I quickly look at Dylan before I answer Harry, and receive a slight nod. “Actually, guys, we’re having a family meeting first.”
Theo groans and is echoed by Liam in the kitchen. Harry looks curious and Max grins at his dad.
“About what?” my firstborn demands to know.
“Something we all need to be present for, so let’s give your brother a minute to finish up so he can join us, okay?”
“Hurry up, Liam,” Harry eggs him on.
He’s done in record time, and I’m pretty sure I’ll need to check the dishwasher filter for the remnants of dinner before it gets clogged up again.
“Here’s the scoop,” I start, feeling a little nervous. “Dylan and I are together.”
“Duh,” Theo shares, earning him a scolding look from yours truly.
“We’d like to be together all the time,” I forge on. “In fact, we’d like for all of us to be together all the time.”
“You want us to move?” This from Harry who looks a little worried.
“No,” Dylan answers for me. “You’d stay right here, but Max and I, we’d like to move in with you guys.”
“I’m taking the basement,” Theo announces matter-of-factly. “Max can have my room.”
“Wait, but—” I’m interrupted by Harry.
“Cool, but we’ll need an extra beanbag downstairs.”
“I’m sure something can be—” This time it’s Max who cuts me off.
“I have a gaming chair in my room.”
“Sweet,” Liam says, pushing away from the table again and starting an exodus.
“Hey, guys, hold up,” I call out before they all disburse. “So what do you think?”
“Sounds good to me,” Theo says, shrugging his shoulders before he saunters into the living room, grabs the remote, and drops down on the couch.
“I think it’s awesome,” Harry shares, following his older brother and sitting down beside him.
“It was my idea, so…” is Max’s contribution as he too disappears into the living room.
Liam is the last one and my biggest concern.
“Liam?” I prompt him gently. “We want you to be honest, honey, if this is—”
“I’m okay with it,” he finally says.
“You sure?” Dylan asks. “Your mom is right, we want you to be straight. That’s why we’re asking you.”
“Of course I’m sure,” he answers, moving away to join his brothers when he looks back over his shoulder and grins at Dylan. “You’re our 10-CODE.”
I feel arms surround me from behind as blink against my emotions and try to swallow down the basketball-sized lump in my throat. Before I can turn and burrow my face in his chest, Harry calls out.
“Mom?”
“Yeah, Bub.”
“We’re gonna need a much bigger couch.”
EPILOGUE
Dylan
“Oh my God, Dylan. I’m so close.”
Marya squirms under me, working hard for the maximum contact I’m holding back.
We woke up this morning to an empty house. A rare treat.
All four boys are having a sleepover at my folks. It was Clint’s idea, claiming it would be the last chance to sleep in the tree house before the snow predicted for Christmas this coming weekend hits. We made sure the kids were outfitted with long johns and down sleeping bags, and Clint had a small space heater he hooked up to keep the worst of the chill off. Overnight temperatures were expected to be slightly below freezing, but the kids had all been excited at the prospect.
It was Marya who was up at the crack of dawn calling Ma to see if they’d all survived. They had and were waiting for the pancakes she’d been in the middle of cooking. Then this afternoon, they’re taking the boys on the Polar Express, a Christmas-themed ride aboard the Durango & Silverton train. By the time they get home tonight, I expect they’ll be well and worn out.
I found her in the kitchen, prepping a pot of coffee. It didn’t take me long to coax her onto our new massive sectional sofa that can comfortably hold all six of us.
