Bad Moon Rising by Katherine Sutcliffe Page B

seething teenager to enter. His mind was ticking over
just how he was going to deal with this sorry turn of events. The only
experience he’d had with delinquent teenagers was with those who had found
their way into the justice system. By that time they were already up to their
ears in rap sheets and on their way to juvenile lockdown.
    Patrick flopped onto the futon, hands still jammed in
his pockets, his sharp gray eyes focused on Holly as she moved to the kitchen
to rummage through the cupboards for a water bowl for the cat. “New girlfriend?”
he sneered.
    “None of your business.”
    Patrick rolled his eyes and slumped deeper into the futon.
    “What the hell are you doing out at this time of
night?”
    “None of your business.”
    “Drinking?”
    “Not yet.”
    “Drugs?”
    He smirked. “Not yet.”
    “Maybe I’ll just haul your smart-aleck ass down to the
lab and have you drug tested.”
    “Fine. I don’t give a fuck.”
    “You ganging it, Patrick?”
    “What if I am?”
    “I’ll kick your ass.”
    “Nice one, Mr. Prosecutor,” Holly whispered behind
him. “Judge Judy would be very proud of your technique. Rip out his throat and
let him bleed all over the floor, why don’t you?”
    Stepping around him, carrying the box of cold pizza,
she moved to the futon and dropped down beside Patrick. “I don’t know about you
guys, but I’m starving, and I happen to love cold pizza.” She peeled a slice
from the box and proceeded to eat, offering a slice to Patrick. He ignored her.
    His hands on his hips, J.D. stared at his nephew and
tried to control his rising frustration. “What am I supposed to do with you
now? Your mom is freaked over your behavior. I’m gonna call her up at two in
the morning and tell her you were picked up wandering around the damn warehouse
district?”
    Patrick shrugged and glanced at the pizza. “What were
you doing there, Patrick?”
    “Nothin’.”
    Raking one hand through his hair, J.D. searched the
ceiling for patience. It was one thing to remain cool when there was no
emotional involvement, but it was another when the kid was his own flesh and
blood, a semigrown image of his son. Perhaps that had been part of his recent
problem, his resistance to get involved more deeply in Patrick’s life. Although
Billy had only been seven when he died, the boys were uncannily similar. He
couldn’t look into Patrick’s eyes anymore without thinking of what he had lost.
    “Christ.” He sighed. “Eric is gonna be pissed.”
    “Who’s Eric?” Holly asked, chewing her pizza.
    “My dad,” Patrick snapped at the same moment that J.D.
replied, “My brother.”
    Her eyebrows shot up, and she shifted her gaze back to
J.D. “So Beverly is your sister-in-law. Interesting.”
    J.D. narrowed his eyes at her before focusing again on
Patrick,’ who had apparently noted the look that had passed between him and Holly.
A new kind of anger flushed his nephew’s face.
    “I’ll have to call your mom. If she’s already
discovered you’re gone, she’ll be beside herself with panic.”
    “If she had discovered him gone,” Holly
said, “I suspect she would have already called you.”
    Patrick gave her a nasty look. “Why don’t you mind
your own business? Who are you, anyway? My uncle’s newest piece of ass?”
    She smiled. “I was only going to suggest that J.D.
take you home. You could crawl back through whatever hole you crawled out of,
slither beneath your bedcovers, and she would never need to know you were ever
gone, and no one would need to get freaked over this incident.”
    “Maybe I don’t wanna go home. Maybe I want to live
here.”
    “Maybe you don’t have a choice.” She tossed the pizza
crust back into the box. “You’re a minor and therefore your parents are
obligated by law to remain responsible for your welfare. They’re also
responsible for any mischief you commit while wandering the streets in the
dead of night. Aside from that, you’ve put your uncle in an