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"Brilliant one my b.u.t.t," Libby muttered. "This bad girl thing is harder than it looks. And true bad girls don't get married, they have flings. And if you're so proud of yourself, Ty, you can be the one to show Mom and Dad the pictures."
Tyson choked on his eggs. Kate patted his back and Sarah handed him a gla.s.s of water. "I don't know the first thing about talking to parents. I didn't have a lot of practice. I'm thinking you'll be better at it, Libby."
"And if we do get married-and I'm stressing the if, as you haven't asked me yet-I want an ironclad prenuptial agreement stating that your money isn't mine."
"That's just bulls.h.i.t. Once we're married, everything I have becomes yours. That's the way it's supposed to work. As for asking, if I asked, you'd have the opportunity to say no and I'm not taking any chances. The potatoes are dynamite, Kate. Does Libby cook like this?"
"No, I don't," Libby snapped, hands on hips.
"Hence the reason you need my money. You can use it to pay for the cook," Tyson said, striving to look practical.
Libby glanced over at Joley, the smile fading from her face. "I don't know what to do. It feels wrong to me to let this happen."
"Let it go, Libby," Joley advised. "Maybe we should concentrate on thinking who might have done this."
"Irene received around fifteen thousand dollars for her story and pictures of Libby and Joley from a magazine. If she did it once, and she admits she has many bills, she might try again. This story was probably worth a fortune," Tyson said.
"I tried to get the source," Joley admitted. "I even promised Kingsley an exclusive if he gave up the source, but he refused."
"Not Irene," Libby said. "She was so upset."
"That was guilt," Tyson pointed out. "Pure guilt. Harry Jenkins is out to get me. If he can ruin our reputations in the scientific and medical communities, maybe that would score him a victory."
"He goes on the list, too," Sarah said.
"And Edward Martinelli," Elle added. "Remember the pictures of Libby healing Tyson in the hospital? They threatened to put them in a magazine."
"Good grief." Kate frowned. "I've never heard of so many people out for blood. Anyone else?"
"Sam doesn't like me," Libby ventured, not looking at Tyson.
"And Sarah doesn't care much for me," Tyson added with a careless shrug, "but somehow I believe she'd think more in terms of toads than scandal rags."
"I'm imaginative," Sarah said. "And you're beginning to grow on me."
Tyson found himself smiling. Even happy in spite of the unfortunate and bizarre events. There was something about the acceptance into Libby's family that made him feel different. Libby made him feel whole. They made him feel accepted. The easy teasing was strange, but he found he enjoyed it. "Well, considering that Libby loves her family and I intend to be a permanent part of it, it's probably best you learn to appreciate my finer points."
"You have finer points?" Sarah challenged. "What are they?"
Tyson grinned, not in the least offended, and pa.s.sed the empty plate to Kate. "Aside from the fact that I adore your sister, I'm a walking encyclopedia and every family needs one."
"That certainly will come in useful for me when I'm researching for a book," Kate said. "Very helpful stuff, Sarah."
"You know anything about security systems?" Sarah asked.
"Some. I can brush up. Mostly I've always had an interest in electronics."
"Is there anything you can't do?" Libby asked, feigning exasperation.
"I minored in quite a few subjects," he explained. "I get bored easily, once I'm fairly familiar with something. I can't sleep very well and if I read something I remember it, so I spend a lot of nights reading textbooks."
"Wow," Joley exclaimed, her smile wide and for the first time, real. "You really are a geek, aren't you? I've never really known a geek very well-with the exception of Libby, but she doesn't count because she's my sister."
"So out of all the suspects"-Sarah brought the conversation back on track-"which one does your gut say is responsible for getting these pictures in a magazine?"
He hesitated, a slight frown on his face. "That's a good question, Sarah, and I wish I had an answer. I'm used to people not liking me, but as far as I know, I've never had anyone want to kill me or smear my reputation. Someone tampered with my motorcycle and I think whoever took those pictures had to be the one who rigged my bike."
Sarah looked at Libby. She put her hands in the air. "The only one I can think would be after me personally is Edward Martinelli and I've never met him. I guess I need to talk to the man. At least face-to-face I might be able to judge if he's really trying to kill me."
"You're not serious," Tyson said. There was a warning note in his voice.
"Be still my heart." Joley clutched her chest and fell backward on the couch. "Who knew the scientific types could go all caveman on a girl?"
"It's annoying," Libby protested.
"It's s.e.xy as h.e.l.l and you know it," Joley said.
"I'd like to see someone get caveman with you, Joley." Libby nudged her hard. "You'd flatten the poor guy. He wouldn't know what hit him."
Joley grinned, not bothering to deny it. "The thrill would still be there for one small second before I annihilated him. I do love a strong man. You go, Tyson."
"Stop encouraging him in Neanderthal behavior. Just because you're kinky doesn't mean the rest of us are."
"No," Sarah denied. "We are."
"You're not helping," Libby said, glaring at her sisters. "Ty, don't listen to any of them. They're all little Hagathas."
He burst out laughing, the sound startling him. He was in the middle of a group of crazy sisters and they were talking sheer nonsense and he was actually enjoying himself. He'd never felt part of anything-not even at the fire station in the midst of the camaraderie. He was always too odd. The Drakes didn't seem to care that he was odd. Even Sarah was coming around. "Hagatha?"
"That's what we call each other when we're being, er, witchy," Libby explained. "Speaking of witches, Hannah must be at the hospital with Jonas again. How's he doing? I planned on seeing him not tomorrow, but the day after. That should give me plenty of time to rest before I give him another boost."
Tyson's gaze narrowed on her face and the smile faded. "What do you mean by giving him a little boost?"
Libby frowned at the edge to his voice. "Jonas was very seriously injured. By rights he should be dead."
"He would be if Libby hadn't healed him," Kate informed him. "Even Elle and Hannah together could never have saved him. Only Libby."
"And it nearly killed her," Sarah added soberly.
"Which is precisely why she doesn't need to be doing it again," Tyson said. He scowled at them. "Jonas is in the hospital getting excellent medical care. My understanding is that he's out of danger and is expected to make a full recovery."
"In time," Libby interrupted.
"A full recovery," Tyson repeated. "You don't have to risk your own health to speed up his recovery process. You saved his life. That should be enough, and I'll bet, if you ask him, he'd tell you not to take the risk."
"It isn't the same thing," Libby explained. The commanding note in his voice might be a thrill to Joley, but it was beginning to set her teeth on edge. Tyson wasn't joking. He meant what he said and he was, without so many words, attempting to forbid her to further aid Jonas.
"Jonas is family, Ty," she reminded him quietly. "I would never let him suffer if I can help him, any more than I would one of my sisters or you."
Tyson opened his mouth to protest, but closed it abruptly as realization swept through him for the first time. His ribs didn't hurt. He couldn't remember when they'd stopped hurting. His arm and hand no longer ached. When had she done that? Without any fanfare, without any discussion, Libby had completely healed him... from the smallest bruise and scratch, to torn muscles and cracked ribs. And he hadn't even noticed.
"Libby Drake." His gaze narrowed on her face, his features settling into hard lines. "Come here."
Joley let out a groan. "My heart can't take this. I'm ready to swoon!"
In spite of his resolve to stop Libby from endangering herself, Tyson couldn't stop the laughter from exploding out of him. Not mild amus.e.m.e.nt, but full-blown belly laughs. Joley was just too dramatic with her eyes dancing with mischief and her infectious smile. She looked so much like Libby, and he found he was rapidly developing a fondness for her, which was no small thing considering he simply didn't like that many people. She was outrageous and loved to tease, but she also genuinely loved Libby. And her absolute resolve to protect her older sister had won his respect and admiration.
He forced a tough expression. "You're cramping my caveman style, Joley. She isn't going to take me seriously if you keep that up."
Libby made a face at him. "I'm never going to take you seriously, if you keep it up. I can't remember a time in my life anyone dictated to me. You're so bossy."
"And he really means it," Joley said. "Isn't that cool? This is going to be so fun to watch, you being bossed around by science man."
"Science man?" Tyson echoed. He shook his head. "Are you always like this?"
Libby laughed, that lighthearted sound that always lifted him up toward the sky. "We're being very good at the moment, so we don't run you off. We get much, much worse."
"That's a scary thought." When had the atmosphere in the home gone from horror, shock and tears to laughter? He was beginning to suspect the true magic of the Drakes was their closeness, and their strength together rather than some mysterious supernatural force.
"Wait until Kile starts asking you how to make bombs. She likes blowing things up. And don't give her any information, either," Sarah added, "because she's lethal enough as it is."
Elle teased with the others, but her eyes never laughed. He found himself a little worried about Libby's youngest sister. He looked around the room and wondered how he got there. In all his fantasies, he'd never considered he'd ever be a part of, or accepted by, the Drake sisters. His worst and very secret nightmare had been that Sam would have managed to date one of them. Not Libby. Tyson couldn't even allow that to happen in his nightmare.
It was acceptance he craved and hadn't even realized it until that moment. He thought he was above that need.
Libby brushed her hand over his jaw, and he wrapped his arm around her, bringing her down to his lap, struggling for a moment not to be overwhelmed by unexpected emotion.
"What is it, baby?" she asked, her voice low and intimate and caressing.
He felt the sound of her, the touch of her inside him. She could disarm him so easily with her voice; her touch. It didn't bode well for his caveman image. "I like your family." His tone was huskier than he intended and to cover the surge of emotion, he brought her hand to his mouth and nibbled on her fingers.
Libby looked around the room at her sisters. "I like them, too."
Chapter Fifteen.
TYSON stopped abruptly on the walkway to the Chapman home, pushing Libby behind him. "The front door's open," he whispered. "Sam would never leave that door open. Go back to the car and if I'm not out in a couple of minutes, get out of here and call the sheriff."
He squeezed her fingers to rea.s.sure her and slipped inside his house. Faintly, he could hear raised voices and he followed the sound through the house into the kitchen. The door to his laboratory was wide open and he could hear Sam cursing.
Tyson hurried down the stairs to find Harry Jenkins bending over Sam who was on the floor. There was blood on Sam's face, one eye was black and swollen nearly closed. Tyson reached for Harry's collar and jerked him backward, tossing him hard against one of the many tables bolted into the floor. Harry yelled something unintelligible, but Tyson was on him, yanking him to his feet.
"Stop!" Sam yelled. "No, Ty. It wasn't him. Martinelli's men were here."
Tyson reluctantly let go of Harry to turn back and help his cousin off the floor. As Ty gripped Sam and drew him up, Sam's eyes went wide, the only warning, but Tyson whipped his head to one side. Even with the quick movement, Harry clipped him on the jaw with his fist.
"You son of a b.i.t.c.h, you sent the cops after me," Harry accused him, backpedaling as Tyson came at him again. He held up both hands. "You deserved that. They held me for hours. Do you have any idea how humiliating that can be? You're the one who should be locked up."
Tyson glared at Harry. "This time maybe they'll throw the key away. What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"
"What do you think? You had the cops haul me out of my hotel room in front of everyone and take me in for questioning. I had to call the lawyers from the lab." Harry took a step toward Tyson. "You went too far this time."
"How'd you get down here?" Tyson asked as he inspected his cousin's face.
Guilt crept into Harry's expression. "I wanted to see what you were doing. I have the right to see."
Sam rubbed the bridge of his broken nose. "I caught him down here with a baseball bat. He was about to have a go at your computer when Martinelli's men jumped me. Harry hid under the table while they pummeled me." Sam righted one of the chairs in front of the four computers and sat down. "Martinelli means business, Ty. I think he might have me killed if I don't do what he wants."
"I hid under the table because they had guns." Harry defended himself. "It wasn't my affair. I wasn't about to get shot over some gambling debt."
"You're a real humanitarian, Harry," Tyson said, contemptuously. "You don't mind breaking into my house and vandalizing my work, but you won't aid Sam when someone is a.s.saulting him."
"It isn't your work," Harry objected. "It's my work. And I'm not letting you steal it this time."
Tyson ignored Harry's outburst as he examined Sam's puffy face. "How many of them?"
"Two. There might have been a third looking out. I had the feeling they were hoping to find you home tonight, not me. I was running late for work, but I came down here to get the dishes and throw them in the sink. I knew you'd forget. Then Harry showed up with his baseball bat and Martinelli's crew came a few minutes later."
"Who broke all that gla.s.s?" Tyson stared Harry down as he asked.
"Not me," Harry denied.
"Martinelli's men were smashing things," Sam confirmed.
"Why didn't you just pay them off?" Tyson asked. "The equipment down here is worth a fortune, not to mention if they destroyed any part of my research."
"I offered the money to them, but they said no, the deal was Martinelli would forgive the debt if Libby talked to him. I tried to explain I didn't have any control over Libby, but they seemed very aware that you do." Sam leaned his head into the heel of his hand. "I've got to get to work, Ty. Look at me."
"Harry, get out of here and don't come back to my home. If you do, I'm having you arrested. You might also consider updating your resume because the next time. I talk with Edward, your name is going to come up."
Harry's face turned bright red. He huffed out his breath, choking as he tried to respond. "You can't do that. You wouldn't dare."
"Not only can I, Harry, but I'll take great pleasure in it. Get the h.e.l.l out of my house. And leave the baseball bat."
Harry spit on the floor. "You're disgusting, Derrick. You'd do anything at all to be the big man. Well, I know all about your little love nest and I saw the papers with the pictures of you starring in your own p.o.r.n movie, having a threesome with some hot little rock star. I'll bet the doc doesn't know you're two-timing her."
Sam waited until Harry had stormed up the stairs before he lifted one eyebrow. "p.o.r.n movie? Threesomes? Why the h.e.l.l wasn't I invited? I used to have all the fun, now you're turning into a regular playboy hustler." He flashed a wan grin, then flinched when it pulled on his swollen, cut mouth.
"Yeah, that would be me, playboy of the century," Tyson replied, wrapping his arm around his cousin. "Let's get you up the stairs. Did they break anything?"
"I don't think so, but I'm as sore as h.e.l.l."
"I'll bet Libby's already called nine-one-one. I left her outside and told her to call if I didn't come back right away," Tyson said. "d.a.m.n, that's all we need, the cops showing up and asking about gambling debts."