My Wicked Valentine

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My Wicked Valentine Page 1

by Lotta Smith




  My Wicked Valentine

  Paranormal in Manhattan Mystery:

  Book 18

  By Lotta Smith

  Copyright

  My Wicked Valentine© 2018 Lotta Smith.

  Cover copyright 2018 Molly Burton at CoverWorks

  Editing and proofreading: Kelly Hartigan of XterraWeb

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without express written permission from the author/and publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents and places are the products of the author’s imagination, and are used fictitiously. None of the characters in this book is based on an actual person. Any resemblance to locales, actual events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and an unintentional.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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  Copyright

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  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  EPILOGUE

  In case you’ve missed...

  About the author

  PROLOGUE

  “Ooh, isn’t it funny? That mean dude was trapped inside a box and he’s been gift wrapped. Look at that box. He’s ready to be shipped as a present!” Jackie exclaimed, bouncing by Sophie.

  “Whee!” Sophie exclaimed, clapping her little hands and laughing hard as she comfortably sat on her baby chair at the dining table while binge-watching the Looney Tunes Christmas compilation on YouTube. “Bunny!”

  Talking clearly and happily, she swung a pink rabbit in her right hand. When she found this ultra-soft plush toy stuffed in the stocking at her bedside on Christmas morning, Sophie immediately fell in love with it. More presents were waiting for her under the tree, but the pink bunny had become her instant favorite. That made Rick, her daddy, super happy and excited. He had snuck in her nursery in the middle of the night Christmas Eve to leave the toy.

  “Darling, you really love Bugs Bunny, don’t you?” Jackie cooed as Sophie swung her arms in my direction. “Hello, Mommy! How’s my chocolate mousse project going?” Jackie said in a high-pitched voice, representing the one-year-old girl who was still learning to talk.

  “It’s going brilliantly well, honey,” I replied, showing off a bowl of creamy chocolate mixture before pouring it into the cake tin. Good thing we had an open kitchen because I was able to work my magic while watching over my daughter playing in the living room. “We’re gonna sample the mousse when it’s set nice and sweet.”

  “Wow! Sounds so yummy.” Jackie looked into Sophie’s face, prompting the toddler to widen her big green eyes. Smiling at my daughter, she said, “Mou-sse,” enunciating each syllable clearly to help Sophie catch the word.

  “Mou-sse!” Sophie exclaimed. “Yummy!”

  “Mandy, did you hear that?” Jackie bounced excitedly.

  “Yes, I did.” I nodded, applauding. “Wow! Sophie, you just learned to speak a new word. I’m so impressed.” Besides that, it was evident that she understood mousse was a food. Oh my God. Rick is so right. Our daughter might be a genius!

  “Me, too,” Jackie joined. “You’re such a smart girl! Also, it’s so sweet that you can see and hear me.” As she cooed, Sophie responded with a giggle.

  “That’s right. It’s so delightful to have you as Sophie’s secret nanny, Jackie,” I said. I couldn’t agree with her more.

  Sophie had just turned one back in November. On that special day, she had uttered—not babbled—her first-ever coherent word “Jackie!” and she was already expanding her vocabulary. And the most striking part was she was learning new words from not just Mommy and Daddy but Jackie as well. Being a fast learner was one thing, but learning new words from a ghost had brought the situation to a whole new level.

  Yes, you heard me right. Jackie was a ghost, and both Sophie and I were communicating with her. I had known Jackie, a former Broadway actor who was stabbed to death on the night of Pride Dance, for years. As a result of dying in a drag queen costume, she’d been stuck in the same getup in which she’d suffered her untimely demise for years—which frustrated her a lot. Still, as soon as she had closure, she’d learned to change her attire, along with many other skills such as being a super ghostly sidekick to me. When I was pregnant with Sophie, she used to interact with not just me but with Jackie as well, sending me a ton of messages that bordered on demands. I wasn’t sure if she’d be able to see and hear Jackie when she was out in the world as a living person, but apparently, she had been communicating with her ghostly auntie. With her dad Rick unable to see or hear ghosts, I didn’t have high expectations for her to have extra communication skills. When she first responded to Jackie with a giggle as she followed the ghost who danced while singing the Looney Tunes medley, I was both surprised and delighted, and overjoyed, Jackie cried. She’d always been a super emotional ghost.

  “Mandy, you’ve got to tell Rick about Sophie’s latest development,” Jackie said abruptly.

  “Of course, I will.” I gave her a thumbs-up as she turned to Sophie, saying, “Daddy’s gonna be sooo proud of you! Oh, don’t forget that I’m really excited about your smartness. Sophie, darling, Mommy’s really happy for you!” I beamed, sprinkling chocolate chips on top of the mousse.

  “Mommy!” Sophie threw her arms up in the air and waved at me, using her whole upper body.

  “Yay! Mommy’s here!” Waving back at my daughter who was clearly enunciating one of the new words she’d learned to say, I couldn’t stop giggling. “Sophie, you’re really great at talking.”

  My name is Mandy Rowling. I’m the mom of Sophie and the wife to Rick Rowling, the COO of a security-based conglomerate USCAB. I also happened to be the chief agent of the Paranormal Cases Division at USCAB, utilizing my ability to talk to dead people, but since we welcomed Sophie, I’d been taking a longish maternity leave, and most of the time, I enjoyed my time as a stay-at-home mom.

  And I was really, really lovin’ it!

  I’d heard about women feeling trapped in a hellish loop in which they were forced to go on with the same old routine forever and ever while they spent most of the time with their children. Luckily, I never felt that way. First of all, Sophie was growing every day, and no two days were the same. If she liked yogurt and banana one day, she showed no interest in them the next day. So basically, every day was a brand-new day for us, and every day was a new opportunity for adventure and discovery. And the best part about this whole endeavor was I was free from life-threatening risks such as getting shot at by some lowlife scum or encountering menacing ghosts and other monsters.

  All in all, I’d been enjoying fun and, at the same time, peaceful days with her, Rick, and Jackie. With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I was making chocolate treats while Auntie Jackie and YouTube entertained my daughter.

  Jackie flew by my side and observed the cr
eamy mixture as it poured into the cake tin. “Ooh, it looks so divinely yummy. Sophie, you’re totally gonna love it!”

  Sophie’s eyes widened. “Luuuv?” She tilted her head.

  “Yes, Mommy’s making really yummy treats for you.” Jackie flew back to Sophie. “You’re gonna love it.”

  Sophie nodded multiple times. “Luuuv.” Then her face lit up. “Cookies?”

  “Oh, do you want cookies? Let me make some for you,” I said, recalling I had some flour and a lot of chocolates in the fridge. “I’ll make some for you. You know, Sophie, you’re learning so many words.”

  It was a pre-Valentine’s Day Thursday, and Rick, a huge fan of my chocolate mousse, was at work. So, I decided to concoct the sweet delights for him. Sophie and I happened to be addicted to chocolate mousse. If I recalled that right, I’d baked chocolate chip cookies for the previous Valentine season, as well as the one before that. With Sophie joining the family and now able to eat solid foods, I was making more sweet delights than previous years.

  “Wow!” Sophie exclaimed, her attention now going back to the computer screen as the sound of Bugs Bunny’s opponent being crushed boomed.

  “Oh my!” Jackie cracked up laughing. “Look at that. Bugs Bunny has just beaten that mean dude.”

  “Dah!” Sophie giggled and raised her hands. “Yay!”

  “Yay!” Jackie joined her, moving her hands to look like she was high-fiving with Sophie. Being a ghost, Jackie couldn’t touch us humans. But nevertheless, Sophie loved to interact with Auntie Jackie, and Jackie loved to interact with Sophie. In my opinion, that was everything that mattered.

  Listening to the girls laughing, I concocted some chocolate chip cookie dough and managed to shape the dough into gingerbread men. I knew Christmas was so in the past, but Sophie loved anything, and everything, that was shaped like gingerbread men. Anyway, that qualified as a good enough reason to shape my cookie dough into stylized humans. Hoping to give the cookies some kick, I’d added a pinch of dried orange peel along with the chocolate chips, but I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. The orange peel gave the dough a zesty aroma, but with the thinly sliced orange skin sticking out between the chocolate chips, the dough started to look like it was growing blond hair. Though I’d never seen spotted dick—something like a cake that was popular in the UK—if someone like me had tried to create this dessert with a very naughty name, it would look exactly like my cookie dough. Anyway, when they were lined up on top of the oven sheet over the tray, they looked like a hairier version of gingerbread men. Humming to myself, I put the tray into the oven and set the timer.

  Then I joined Sophie and Jackie and watched the Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote episode. When I was little, I used to watch a ton of Looney Tunes episodes, and I thought I’d had enough. By the time I was in the fifth grade, I thought I’d had enough and had graduated into a more mature audience. But the moment I welcomed Sophie, I found myself with a craving for cartoons, and here I was—laughing so hard that I almost fell off my chair. Alicia, my younger sister, was so right. She used to say how much she’d once again enjoyed watching the misadventures of caricatured animals when she became a mother. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t take her seriously back then.

  After a lot of giggling and choking from laughter, the sweet aroma of the cookies filled in the room.

  By the time Sophie sniffed the air, expectantly looking at me with her big, mesmerizing green eyes—the exact same shade as Rick’s eyes—the oven dinged.

  “Ooh, Sophie, darling, the cookies are baked!” Jackie announced, doing a happy dance in the living room.

  “Wow!” Sophie widened her eyes as she swung her arms and her favorite bunny excitedly. “Cookies? Yummy?” Her eyes were twinkling. If she wasn’t strapped in her baby chair, she was dancing around.

  “Yes, cookies are done.” I patted her cheek. “They need a little cooling down, but let’s sample a little when they’re still warm. How does that sound?”

  “Fabulous!” Jackie exclaimed, cupping her face in her hands. “Ooh…this is one of those moments that I wish I could take a nibble or two.”

  “I know,” I said sympathetically. As someone who enjoyed food very much, I could imagine the torture and agony of seeing and smelling the food that I couldn’t even touch, much less eat. “Do you want a soda or something?” I asked. She couldn’t touch food, but she could enjoy the scent of bubbly drinks such as Coke and champagne. She used to enjoy the scent of bubbly liquor, but since I’d become pregnant with Sophie, Jackie stopped sniffing alcoholic beverages. According to her, she didn’t want to risk Sophie being exposed to alcohol, and she decided to quit sniffing alcohol altogether.

  Jackie tilted her head thoughtfully. “A cup of lemon tea would be nice.”

  “Sure. Darling, your cookie will be coming soon.” Squeezing Sophie’s little hand, I stood up. When I opened the oven, the cookies were nice and golden—with dark chocolate spots and hairy spindles of orange peel. Setting two pieces off the wire rack onto the plate, I fixed two cups of lemon tea—one for Jackie and the other for me.

  “Hmm, the cookies don’t look as scary as I’d imagined,” Jackie commented by my side.

  “Of course.” I winked, pretending I was sure about that. “Sophie, here’s your cookie. Here you go.” I broke one of the cookies into a smaller piece and handed it to her.

  “Wah!” Exclaiming happily, Sophie took a bite of it. Widening her eyes, she extended her hands toward me.

  “Sophie loves it, Mandy.” Jackie winked.

  “I know.” I raised my hand, high-fiving with my ghostly pal.

  My phone beeped, and I answered it. “Hello?”

  CHAPTER 1

  “Hey, how are you ladies doing?” Rick asked.

  “We were baking chocolate and orange peel cookies, and Sophie’s taste-testing.”

  “Sounds yummy. Can’t wait to try them,” he said. Can you come to NYPD’s Seventeenth Precinct?”

  “The Seventeenth Precinct?” I parroted. “You mean, the NYPD?”

  “That’s right. The one with the NYPD,” he confirmed. “I think that’s the only one.”

  “What’s going—?”

  “You, mee, daa ennee-pee-dee?” Sophie interjected in the middle of my question, and I had a hunch she was trying to repeat what I’d just said.

  “Yes, darling, I asked Daddy if he wants us to come to the NYPD,” I told Sophie, and then I said to Rick, “If I’m going to the precinct, Sophie’s coming with me. Will that be good?” Booking a babysitter at the last minute was already difficult, and when you were looking for a good one, the task became impossible. Also, being a stay-at-home mom, I’d rarely used a babysitter, and the list of my potential babysitters was small anyway.

  “Of course. Bring her in. I can’t wait to see you ladies.” He made some kissy noises.

  “That’s good to hear.” I giggled. Rick was truly smitten by Sophie, which was both sweet and funny. Back in the old days, his name used to be listed in the most eligible bachelors in Manhattan, complete with photos of him attending super-glamorous parties with A-list models, actresses, and socialites. Who could have imagined him turning into such a sweet dad?

  “By the way, what does Sophie say?” Rick asked eagerly—just like always. He had to know every word his baby daughter had learned to speak or attempted to utter. “I can hear her talking but can’t quite grasp what she said.”

  “I think she tried to say ‘You mean the NYPD?’”

  “You, mee, daa ennee-pee-dee!” Sophie exclaimed happily.

  “Oh my God!” Jackie’s eyes widened. “She just said, ‘You mean the NYPD?’ What a smart girl, Sophie, darling! I’m so proud of you!” As she bounced around us in celebration, Sophie swung her little arms, giggling.

  “Jackie says Sophie has just repeated my words,” I informed him at the other end.

  “Seriously? Wow, she’s gonna talk more clearly pretty soon, huh? I can’t wait to sit with her and have long daddy-daughter conversation
s.”

  “Sounds funny.” I chuckled. I could already picture Sophie in her teenage years talking back at Rick. After all, she was his daughter. I was no rocket scientist, but being a medical school dropout and an expert in Rick Rowling, I knew enough to assume his daughter would inherit his annoyingly smart-mouth traits. Really, I couldn’t wait to see the teenage Sophie logically countering her daddy, and I was sure she was going to win.

  “I think Sophie will turn into a tough cookie,” Jackie commented. “Just like you.”

  “Cookie!” Sophie pulled my sleeve, looking like she’d just recalled the most important thing in the world. “Cookie!”

  “Oh, do you want more cookies? Let Mommy bring some more.” I cooed at my daughter. “Rick, I’ll try to visit the precinct as soon as possible. Sophie wants some more cookies, and we have to freshen up a little to go out.”

  “Fine,” Rick said. “I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes or so.”

  “Hopefully, we’ll be ready by then,” I said. “By the way, why are we visiting the police station?” Rick and I used to work at the FBI’s New York City headquarters. Back then, we were the only members of a secret section called Paranormal Cases Division. Despite the tense relationship between the bureau and the NYPD lasting as long as Twinkies, we occasionally collaborated with the police department, solving a smorgasbord of cases—mostly by interviewing the murder victims. After we’d left the feds and joined USCAB, we worked with law enforcement only occasionally and on a consultancy basis. Starting with when we found out I was pregnant with Sophie, Rick had been very selective about the cases I was involved with.

  “Oh, crap. I almost forgot to inform you about the case,” Rick muttered. “I got a call from Brian from the Seventeenth Precinct. As a matter of fact, he’s being questioned as a murder suspect.”

  “Brian? You mean, Brian Powers?” I asked.

  “Exactly. I’m talking about him,” he agreed. “Also, I don’t know other Brians who are close enough to give me a call when he’s being detained at the police station.”

 

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