by M K Mancos
“You and your boyfriend leaving that man in an alley. You had no way of knowing if he was beyond help or not.”
“And you know this why? Because you’ve been following me and know I’m not a registered nurse or paramedic?”
She hadn’t refuted his statement that the gorilla was her boyfriend. A little twinge of disappointment and jealousy unfurled in Josiah’s gut. “I doubt if you were either of those things you’d run from the scene, or be working here.”
The door opened behind him and he watched as Keely held her arms even tighter and rolled her eyes as a voice called out in a breathy sigh, “Hello, Snow White.” A woman with more miles on her than the New Jersey Turnpike sidled up to Josiah and bumped her hip against him. “Who’s your hot friend?”
“He’s not a friend. He’s a cop who’s been tailing me.”
The woman turned heavily lined eyes his way and winked. “This have anything to do with that summons angel face brought in for you the other night?”
Keely’s color rose higher. Her eyes could have shot lasers at the other woman. She spoke between clenched teeth, “It wasn’t a summons. It was a job offer.”
“And yet, here you are.” The woman walked away, shaking her head. “I would think you’d have taken him up on it.”
“Who says I haven’t?” The entire bar silenced at her announcement.
Josiah stayed quiet, watching the scene unfold with curiosity.
“You’re leaving us, Keely?” The large guy with the handlebar mustache came to stand at the end of the bar, beefy arms folded over his chest.
Keely turned her head, looking at all the curious faces. “Um, well, I…I haven’t decided yet.”
“I know you’ve been working on your degree and all, but dammit, it’ll be like losing a daughter when you leave.” The big guy looked choked up at the idea of his bartender leaving the establishment.
“Nico…” Keely drew the name out then went to the man and threw her arms around him. He caught her in a massive bear hug, picking her feet up off the ground. “Even when I do leave, I’ll only be down the block. You know that.”
Josiah watched them for a moment longer, not sure why the lump formed in his throat. Maybe it was the fact her boss genuinely seemed to care about her welfare and referred to her as a daughter.
He set her back on her feet as the kitchen door swung open and a tall, lanky man walked behind the bar, carrying a cash drawer.
Keely moved to the cash register, turned the key and hit a few buttons. The drawer popped out and a long tape spit out of the printer.
The longer Josiah sat at the bar, the more he learned about her, and the more curious he became. Obviously, she worked the lunch shift. That meant she had plenty of hours after work to cruise the town dressed like death with the gorilla in tow.
He really needed to find out what she did after hours. As she started back into the kitchen with her drawer, he called after her, “When can I see you again?”
“I’m here most afternoons.”
“What about evenings?”
The sharpness left her eyes, replaced by sadness. “I’m busy.”
“Every night?”
“Yes. Every night.” With that, she ducked into the kitchen and left him sitting at the bar with half a beer and no closer to solving her mystery.
He sucked down the rest of his beer and lifted the bottle. Time to check her prints against those recovered at both scenes.
Keely sat on her couch, textbook open on her lap. Words danced before her eyes like an interactive crossword. The text, however, didn’t make a bit of sense. Comprehension had deserted her about the time the sexy detective with the come-fuck-me mouth entered Nico’s.
He was definitely better in the daylight and on closer inspection.
He has it out for you.
If he gave her half a chance, though, she’d climb him like a tree and not stop until she reached the top.
Why did the first man in a long time who revved her engine have to be a cop? And why did she have to meet him now? Why not last week when her life was still her own and she didn’t have the Prince of the Long Sleep attached to her side like a damned remedial leech?
“Forget about Josiah Adler and just read.” Sometimes admonishing herself out loud made the idea stick in her head.
Easier said than done. He’d smelled like sex. Well, not the actual act of sex, but sexy. It had taken all her strength not to dive across the bar and bury her nose in his neck. Aftershave should never induce crotch wetness. Where was the fairness in that?
Then there were his eyes.
They saw everything and missed nothing with all the focus of a stalking predator. It was only a matter of time before he decided she’d overstepped her bounds and he pounced on her.
Keely fanned her face. If she were only that lucky.
The worst part of it all was he was right about everything. She had no business leaving a man dying in an alley. And if she’d come upon the homeless man of her own accord, she’d have flipped out her cell and called 911 faster than you can say cold storage.
Guilt made for a bad study partner.
She slammed the book closed and set it on the coffee table. How was she supposed to read for class when her entire life balanced on a shredded tightrope? Grad school and working two jobs didn’t mix well. Especially when one of those jobs had her running the city at all hours of the night.
She rubbed her forehead where an ache began to build.
Great, just what she needed, to worry herself into a stroke.
She rose with the intent of making a pot of tea then stopped as a figure outside her window made her stop.
A shadow moved beyond the illumination from the streetlight. Keely watched for a moment. If someone walked toward the end of the street, she’d still see them moving. Instead, the shadow stood still and the feeling of being watched caught her by the throat.
She snapped the cord for the blinds, closing them with a crash.
Samson wouldn’t watch her apartment so intently, would he? The man came and went through her bedroom closet, why stand outside in the cold? So, if not Samson, then who?
Josiah Adler?
It wasn’t an impossible thing to follow her from Nico’s. At less than a block, it was hardly a challenge for his detecting skills.
He did have it out for her.
She rubbed her arms. Suddenly, the cold had nothing to do with the ambient temperature and more to do with the stranger outside.
8
The woman was ass deep in dead bodies.
Josiah threw the morning paper to the side in disgust. He sat at his kitchen table, cup of coffee in his hand, relaxing before work when the small article on the front page caught his attention.
Local Socialite and Philanthropist Memorial Service Set for Today.
While the headline wasn’t earth-shattering, the fact the philanthropist in question was one Gertrude “Bertie” Stanford-Evans who lived at the Water Point Station Condos had Josiah’s undivided attention. The woman was well known throughout the tri-state area for her good deeds and unselfish donations to charity.
“Damn it.” The words came out more of a regretful sigh than an expletive. He had Keely right where he wanted her the other night and hadn’t taken her up on her offer to haul her to the station. But given the nature of Stanford-Evans’ death, he didn’t have a right to either.
According to the article, old Bertie died after a long illness.
Curiosity reared its head. Had Keely been in another apartment in the building for her costume party, or had that been another lie in what Josiah figured must be a long line of them?
“What do you think, Pugs?”
Pugsley, Josiah’s English bulldog, let out a yawn and laid his head on his paws, looking up at him. The dog wasn’t concerned about lies or worldly cares, as long as his dinner bowl stayed full and he got outside to do his business when needed.
At least Josiah now knew where to find Keely.
&n
bsp; But that still didn’t give him the right to question her on Stanford-Evans’ death. The woman had been attended by her family at the end. Surely, they would have noticed a stranger in their midst who didn’t belong, especially one dressed in a priest’s collar.
No! She wouldn’t. Would she?
Now, that possibility was too outrageous to even believe from her. But it was pretty easy to check. If he discovered Keely had dressed up as a reverend in order to gain access to the rich woman’s family, Josiah wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. First, she left a dead guy in an alley, then she and King Kong squirreled their way into a dying woman’s apartment. Why?
Josiah stood and took his cup to the sink. He looked out onto his postage-stamp-sized lawn. Calm. He needed to remain calm. Maybe she had come from a costume party in the same building. It wouldn’t be unheard of. A little out of season for costume parties, but big deal.
He picked up the discarded paper as he walked by. He’d have to make time to swing by the memorial service and see if Keely had the balls to show her face in her fake collar during the light of day.
Water Point Station Episcopal Church was stationed on a wooded hill on the outskirts of the town proper. An old graveyard dating back to the 1700s sat on the opposite hill. Local dignitaries and heroes had been buried there since before the Revolution. The Stanford-Evanses owned a mausoleum where family members had been laid to rest since the town founding and incorporation in 1804.
Josiah parked in the back of the lot, away from the majority of the mourners. He wanted a chance to observe the arrivals without being seen. He’d already been there for thirty minutes without seeing a sign of Keely when his cell phone rang.
“Where the hell are you?” Shelia spoke under her breath and as if through clenched teeth. “I’m getting my ass chewed for not having anything on Midnight yet, and you’re off doing God knows what.”
He scanned the crowd standing outside the church. “I’m at a funeral.”
Silence filled the phone followed by contrite apologies. “Oh, jeez, Josie, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
Deciding not to tell her the truth about whose funeral he attended, Josiah merely said he’d call her later.
“Wait. You wanted to know as soon as the prints came back on the beer bottle.”
His heart fell, not wanting to hear Keely had been at both scenes. “Yes. What’s the verdict?”
“The prints match one set from the medical alert bracelet on the John Doe in the alley, but they don’t match the prints on the overdose.”
Josiah let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Thanks.” He closed the phone and stared off at the church.
The news was both good and bad. Good because Keely couldn’t be tied to the overdose, bad because someone out there had been in contact with both scenes.
Back to square one.
A priest came out of the church’s arched doorway and stood greeting mourners with a handshake.
When the last few people entered the church, Josiah got out of his car. A quick survey of the lot didn’t reveal Keely hiding out in any of the vehicles. Maybe he’d been way off base, but something in his gut told him he wasn’t—that the situation with her bore close examination.
He ran a hand down his chest in an attempt to straighten his tie, but it was more to settle the kick to his insides he got whenever he thought about her.
Nothing about her made sense. She had the face of an angel and the mouth of a harpy. There didn’t appear to be an ounce of compassion in her and yet her coworker called her Snow White. It wasn’t said ironically as a big man was called Tiny, either. It was said with enough contempt behind it not to be a nickname but an invective.
Josiah slipped into the church and took a place by the back wall. He’d waited so long to enter that all seats were taken. He recognized several local politicians—the mayor, congressmen and women, city council members and even the governor. Getting to the family to ask them questions amid all the luminaries would be difficult, but not impossible.
The service included a lengthy mass and hymns. The eulogy was delivered by a man who looked to be Josiah’s age. The program listed him as Stanford-Evans’ grandson Corbin Evans. He spoke of his grandmother’s commitment to charity and her belief in paying back the incredible gifts she’d been born into.
When he mentioned being saddened that the Reverend Batrille hadn’t been able to make today’s service, soft laughter broke out in the front row. Even from where Josiah stood, he could see a deep crimson fill Corbin Evans’ tanned face. He flicked a quick glance to where the laughter came from and gave a crooked smile then a shrug. A private joke at the Reverend’s expense.
After the service, Josiah hung out near the back of the church, watching for Keely in case she had slipped in without him noticing. He exited the church and stopped to shake the priest’s hand.
“Lovely service. A fitting tribute,” Josiah said with all sincerity. From what he knew of Stanford-Evans, she deserved every good word and accolade given.
The priest nodded in thanks, his gaze sliding down to rest on Josiah’s badge. “Bertie touched many lives. And in many ways. Great and small.”
When Josiah started to leave, he stopped and turned to the priest. It was a calculated move, meant to look like an afterthought, but had been on his mind since Corbin Evans mentioned the other priest. “Why did Reverend Batrille’s name make the family laugh?”
The priest smiled broadly. His pale features grew pink and his eyes twinkled. “Reverend Batrille performed last rites in my stead and from what I understand she was a real looker.”
Josiah tried to choke down his anger. That sounded like Keely all right. “You’ve never met this Reverend Batrille?”
“No.” He shook his head. “She came from another parish. I had an emergency to attend and she was the only ordained cleric who could perform the rites.”
Josiah nodded and said goodbye to the priest. He didn’t want to spend more time discussing it than he had to. What he really wanted was to find Corbin Evans and get his take on the attractive reverend.
The opportunity came later that afternoon at the reception to honor Stanford-Evans. The grandson stood off by himself with a glass of wine in his hand.
Josiah planted a friendly smile on his face and approached. “I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who laments a cleric’s collar on a beautiful woman.” As an opening gambit it wasn’t smooth, but it definitely had the advantage of catching Evans off-guard.
He looked up from his drink and gave that same lopsided smile he had in the church. “I almost hit the floor when I opened the door.”
Josiah held his hand out and introduced himself to Corbin Evans, who took his hand in a firm grip and returned the greeting.
“The weird part is I’ve called every parish in the area and they don’t have a Reverend Batrille assigned. Not even Father Angelo knew where she came from.”
“That’s a little suspicious, don’t you think?” Josiah shifted, and his jacket opened a bit. Just like with the priest, Corbin’s gaze moved down to the badge on Josiah’s belt.
He laughed and shook his head. “I prefer to think she was sent from above. A woman who looks that good can’t be real. I’ve never seen eyes that color before. You can almost see right through them.”
That was just the confirmation Josiah waited for. No one had eyes like Keely.
“Did she do anything odd, or roam around the apartment unattended?”
“No. She and her assistant Brother Benedict stayed with my grandmother from the time they arrived until after Bertie passed.” Now he frowned. “She isn’t a reverend? Is that what you’re implying? If it is, I’d just as soon keep this between us and not let my family know. They’d be hurt and angry if they knew they’d been deceived.”
Josiah nodded. “Did she do or say anything that made you uncomfortable or thought was out of place?”
Corbin started to shake his head, then his eyes widened. “Not until t
he end. After Bertie passed, Reverend Batrille took this golden sickle from a pouch at her waist.”
A bladed weapon!
Excitement sizzled through Josiah’s system. “What did she do with it?”
“Nothing much. Made a slashing motion with it over Bertie’s body. When I asked Reverend Batrille about it, she said it was a symbolic severing of earthly cares then put it away and left.”
“That was it? That was all she did?”
Corbin looked down into his wine glass and swirled the contents. “You sound disappointed.”
“No.” Josiah thanked him for the information, offered condolences for the loss of Bertie and then left.
He had seen a bladed weapon in the alley and she used it again on Stanford-Evans. But from what the grandson said, she never touched the body with it. Symbolic severing of earthly cares? What in the hell was that? Was she some kind of rogue New Ager who made it her life’s mission to step all over others’ beliefs in order to impose her own?
There was only one way to find out.
He pulled out into afternoon traffic and headed to the poor side of town and to Nico’s Pub and Cue.
9
Keely pushed open the door to the deli and took in a deep lungful of yummy, spice-scented air. Behind the counter, Alfredo gave her a nod of greeting as he waited on another customer. She pulled a number from the dispenser and went to sit at one of the tables to take a load off her feet.
She really needed a new pair of shoes. All the walking at the bar and then the miles she put in every night going around town made her sincerely question her career choices and footwear selection. But then, being a Scythe hadn’t really been a choice, it was a job that had been thrust on her from the powers above.
And who had the time to shop?
She didn’t even have time to fire up her laptop and order a pair of shoes online. As it was, she only stayed one step ahead of her class work. Luckily, she knew enough from her undergrad studies to write convincing papers. Growing up with two brothers had honed her skills of argumentation.