Many times she seemed to have conversations only she was privy to, smiling and nodding her head, rolling her eyes and gesturing, sometimes laughing out loud.
Sometimes he heard the piano just to find her sitting there playing, and when she noticed him in the doorway she’d stop and badly fumble an excuse as to why she couldn’t continue.
He always felt a shifting, the air expanding and contracting around her in these cases, as if something changed.
Millicent was no help. She knew something, but apparently had been sworn to secrecy. As a member of the Tribunal, Taz could guarantee whatever she asked would be granted in this regard.
He’d have to watch.
And wait.
It was a Monday, and Taz had the house to herself, she thought. When she’d asked Matthias if he minded if she took the day off, he hugged her.
“I think that’s a great idea. I need to go in to the office for a while.”
“That’s fine. You were right. I need some time off.”
He didn’t even think about saying, “I told you so,” and she loved him for it.
Rafe’s Mustang was overdue for an oil change, something Rafe was religious about. Now she understood the great protest in Yellowstone, and then again at home when she wanted to take it someplace to have it done. This was his baby. He didn’t like anyone else touching it unless absolutely necessary. She drove to the auto parts store, got everything she needed.
“I use synthetic oil, Taz. That brand there,” he said as her hand hovered over the bottles on the rack.
“How many?”
“Get eight. Won’t use that many, but I like having extra. There should still be two filters at the house as long as Albert didn’t forget anything. We’ll need to order more.”
Back at home she laid out the tools, prompted by Rafael, and found a filter. Taz popped the hood.
“Don’t forget to put a new washer on the drain plug.”
Alone at home, it was more natural for her to answer him out loud. “I’m perfectly capable of doing this, you know.” She didn’t mind Rafael’s backseat wrenching. It was nice having him to share this with.
“I want a new washer. I put one on every oil change.”
“You know it doesn’t need it, right?” she asked, reaching for one.
“Humor me, baby girl.”
“All right, got it. See?”
“Good.”
She dragged the floor jack over to the car and knelt down.
“Don’t forget the jack stands.”
“I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this before.”
“I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“I won’t get hurt. Jesus, Rafe, would you relax? It’s an oil change, not an engine overhaul.”
She was too engrossed in her conversation and activities to notice Tobias walking toward the garage.
Taz pulled the jack stands into position and got them ready. “There, are you happy?”
“Good.”
“Can I jack it up now?”
“Smart-ass.”
“You should know. You’ve had your hands on it enough.”
She enjoyed the sound of his laughter in her mind.
Tobias heard Taz’s voice in the garage, but it was weird, like she was having a one-sided conversation. He slowed his approach and stopped near the end of the building, out of sight but close enough to hear.
If he didn’t know any better…
He thought about the funeral, his recent observations, and walked closer, fascinated and horrified at the same time, knowing for certain his suspicions were correct.
With the car securely on the jack stands, Taz pulled the jack out of the way and shoved the drain pan under the car.
“Don’t forget the washer.”
“Rafe, I will put a new friggin’ washer on it, okay?”
She heard his amused chuckle. He had fun pushing her buttons. With their agreement not to make love anymore, their playful banter had exponentially increased.
She made sure the drain pan was positioned properly, removed the drain plug, and used a shop rag to wipe the plug clean while the old oil drained. “See, I’m putting the new washer on.”
“Good. ’Bout time.”
When the oil finished draining, she replaced the drain plug, tightened it, and wiped the dripping oil from around the bottom of the oil pan. Pushing the drain pan to the side to catch the old filter, she grabbed the filter wrench and removed the old filter, managing to not make too much mess in the process.
“Don’t forget to oil the gasket on the new one.”
“For the last friggin’ time, Rafe, I have changed the oil in a car before. Lay off, all right?”
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” He chuckled.
“I’ll bunch your panties. If you had panties to bunch.”
“Promises, promises.”
She used a dab of clean oil to lube the gasket on the new filter and spun it on by hand, tightening it with the filter wrench.
“Did I forget anything, smart-ass? Or should I let you do this?”
“No, I think you got it all, baby girl.”
“Really? Because I wouldn’t want to forget and have you make me get back under here and—”
“Why would I make you get back under there?”
The sound of Tobias’ voice startled her. She sat up, nailing herself on the cross member.
“Ow! Son of a bitch!” She grabbed her forehead, seeing stars. Really seeing them. It wasn’t just a cartoon cliché.
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
Tobias knelt down and peeked under the car. “Taz, are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said to both men, the one in her brain and the one in the garage.
She wiggled out from under the car. Tobias took her arm, helping her to her feet, and examined the newly forming goose egg over her left eye.
“Let me look, dear,” he said, pulling her hand away. “You didn’t break the skin, but we should get some ice on it.”
“No, I’m okay.” Now that the pain was abating, she wondered how much he’d heard of her conversation with Rafe.
Tobias fixed his eyes on her. “Are you? Are you truly okay?”
“Please,” she whispered, “you can’t tell Matthias or the others.”
Tobias sighed. “I’ve suspected ever since the funeral. How long has he been with you?”
“The night he died. He threw himself at me when Caroline killed him. I didn’t realize he was there until Dame Agnew figured it out in London. I just thought I was going crazy, kept hearing his voice.” She grabbed his arm, desperate. “Please, you can’t tell them!”
“He’s obviously aware of what’s going on. He was the one who planned and was at the funeral, I suppose?”
She nodded. “And as you probably heard, he’s quite opinionated about his car.”
“Damn right. Don’t forget to put the oil in, either, Taz.”
“I need to finish this.” She grabbed a quart of oil.
“I think Matthias has a right to know,” Tobias said.
“He’ll want me to make him leave. I won’t do that.”
“You don’t know that.”
She glared at him. “He’ll be worried it’ll set me off again. I’m fine, really. I’m dealing with it.”
“Carrying Rafael around in your brain isn’t dealing, it’s existing. And it’s no way to live.” It certainly explained why she’d distanced herself emotionally from Matthias and everyone else immediately after their return from London.