by Jen Talty
“You’re just jealous of your own nephew,” Pat said, clearly trying to stop laughing, but failing miserably.
“Jealous? Yeah, right. Try concerned, like you should be.” Amazingly, Owen said that with a straight face. He wasn’t so old he’d forgotten what it was like to be a kid, but it did annoy him that Courtney had used Jake, of all people. Hell, she should have just invited him over for dinner. He might have gone. Maybe.
You probably would have chickened out because love scares you.
No, it doesn’t.
You’re afraid she’ll leave you again.
I wish your voice in my head would go away.
I think I need to prove my existence again.
No. Really. That’s okay.
Pat lowered his chin and raised his left eyebrow. Owen hated that. It reminded him of their dad. “I appropriately punished Jake, especially for going after the cake, which she had told him was off limits. But let’s get real here. The only person you’re upset with is yourself because you can’t see past your own nose to know what is good for you.”
“We’re not talking about me here, we’re talking about what your son did and how it is potentially dangerous and wrong. He needs to know that.”
“Now that’s bullshit,” Pat said.
“He broke into—”
“Stop right there.” Pat held up his hand. “He had permission to be there.”
“To be part of some childish prank that could have resulted in me going in there armed and shooting someone.”
Pat laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
“No. But you’re not upset over what your nephew did. You’re upset with Courtney.”
Owen rolled his eyes. “I still can’t believe she could be so irresponsible. What was she thinking? I mean, using an impressionable kid like that and for what?”
“Ahhh, now that’s where the problem is. You’re pissed because she had to trick you to get you into the sack. But from what I can gather, it worked. Good for Courtney.”
“Tricks are for kids,” Owen said. He felt foolish for falling for it. More foolish because sex was probably all she really wanted. She sure as hell wasn’t the settling down type. Hell, she’d probably stay here for a few months and then pack up and leave, realizing this sleepy little town didn’t do it for her.
Just like he didn’t.
“Come on. It’s not like the rest of this town hasn’t noticed there’s still a spark between you two.”
“I’m not going to listen to any more of this.” Owen tossed a few bills on the table. “I’ve got work to do.”
Pat reached across the table and grabbed Owen’s arm. “Be honest with yourself. You’re only mad because she had to play a childish prank to get you to notice her, not because of what happened.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Owen muttered, finally admitting to himself what really had him over the rails.
“And you’re frustrated because part of you is very glad she did it.” Pat removed his hand.
“No. I’m not. I don’t like games, especially when it comes to relationships. No relationship built on that could possibly last.” What the fuck? Did I just say relationship?
You did. And don’t cuss. I don’t like foul mouths.
Sorry, Lilly.
Good. You believe.
Nope.
You said my name.
And now I’m going to ignore you.
Pat chuckled. “She controlled the situation, the seduction, and that bugs you. God forbid Big O isn’t in control of everything.”
“For the record, I did the seducing.”
Pat burst out laughing again.
“Why is that so funny to you?” Owen let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m the one who smothered her in frosting and then licked it off.”
“TMI man, TMI. Besides, that is not a seduction. That is a stupid, childish prank. You just did it so you could feel her up,” Pat said with a smug grin.
“Ha, ha.”
“You know, when it comes to women, you’re a total moron.”
“Am not.” Owen ran a hand across his head. As a teen, he’d been relatively confident with girls. Hell, who was he kidding? The only girl he had any confidence with had been Courtney. It had always been her. After she moved, he couldn’t ask a girl out to save his life. Talk about being a dork. He turned into the king of dorks.
Now that she’d returned, the dorkiness continued. She made him feel like a stupid kid. But if she wanted to go out or something, she could have just asked. “Drop the subject of Courtney. You know how I feel about pranks, especially on Halloween.”
“I know. Something bad always happens on Halloween.” Pat let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re a good cop. This town loves you, and other than last year’s unfortunate car accident, nothing really horrible has ever happened on Halloween.”
“Have you forgotten about Mr. McGiver’s garage?” That was the Halloween Courtney moved away.
“It wasn’t a big deal, Owen.”
“It was a dumb idea, and I regret it,” he said, continuing with the argument.
You were mad because you found out Courtney was moving that night. Your other half was going to leave you and that hurt, so you smashed the car.
I did it on purpose.
Because you hurt. But she’s back. Don’t screw it up.
“Oh, Christ.” Pat shook his head. “I can’t believe you think sneaking into his garage, checking out his old GTO, and accidentally hitting the gearshift, sending it crashing into the garage door, was such a big deal. Besides, we all learned a lesson, end of story. Even old man McGiver has forgiven you. And do I need to remind you, you paid for the damages to his car and garage.”
“Fine. I was a smart-ass kid. Jake’s just acting his age. But Courtney isn’t a kid. She’s an adult. To resort to such an underhanded, manipulative method to get my attention doesn’t impress me.” It might not have impressed him, but he certainly appreciated the end result.
“I think she’s beyond trying to impress you. Right now, she’s trying to get you to acknowledge her existence.”
“Excuse me?” There were times Owen hated having Pat as a brother. Pat had the ability to see things for what they really were.
And call him on his own bullshit.
“You’ve pretty much ignored her since she came home.”
“Have not,” he said, denying the accusation. But he knew his brother had a point. While he noticed her every day, he made a point of not engaging her in any type of conversation. He didn’t call her, didn’t stop by to say hello, didn’t do any of the things he truly wanted to do. “Fine. I haven’t been the friendliest. But she still could have come out and said something instead of tricking me.”
“Maybe.” Pat chuckled again. “So, how was it?”
“You’re a pig.”
“I’m an old, married man,” Pat said as he stood and laid a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Give it a chance. Give her a chance. What’s the worst thing that can happen?”
Yeah, Owen. What’s the worst thing that could happen? You big oaf.
When would that damn woman’s voice get out of his head?
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Owen said as he followed his brother to the door.
“At least make nice with her.”
“I’ll think about it.” Owen watched his brother hop in his family SUV and head for home. “Lucky bastard,” he heard himself say.
You could be that lucky, if you would just follow your heart.
“Shut up,” he mumbled to the voice as he slid into his patrol car.
Sitting there, staring out into nothing, he tried to understand why he couldn’t stay mad at Courtney. He wanted to. Almost talked himself into it while having dinner with his brother, but it hadn’t worked. He knew he’d end up over there tonight. Worse, he knew he’d want to take her to bed again...or maybe on the kitchen table with some of her butter frosting.
“Shit.” He had to get his mind off
sex when it came to Courtney. He was supposed to be mad as hell, believing that’s all she wanted from him. But she was his neighbor, not to mention his friend, and he kept thinking about her, about how much he enjoyed watching her get all jealous of some stuffy teacher he didn’t even find attractive. Then he’d had even more fun messing with her head.
Who was playing trickery now?
She’d heard the entire conversation he had with Nicky, and he figured she’d about jumped from her skin the moment he whispered in Nicky’s ear. Of course, hearing her voice inside his head was as crazy as hearing Lilly’s, so he had ignored that concept altogether.
He smiled remembering Courtney’s expression when he’d looked up. Even though he’d completely ignored the kid’s question, and only promised him a ride in his patrol car, she’d been curious. Years on the job taught him kids loved that kind of stuff, and it certainly got him off the whole “finding the right person thing.” Owen’s first response had been, yeah, I found her all right. But that thought was just silly.
Now, who is playing childish games?
“Okay, fine you win. It was childish.” He tossed his hands wide and stared at the orange glow settling across the sky. The sun had disappeared, and soon all the goblins and ghosts would come out.
Good. Now go get the girl.
“Chief, got a call for you,” the dispatcher rang out over the radio.
“Go ahead.” Grateful for the distraction, Owen focused his attention on the dashboard.
“Courtney Nash just called in a disturbance at her house.”
“What kind of disturbance?” Owen asked, giving his head a good scratch. What the hell was Courtney up to now? She didn’t need to keep pulling all these stunts to get his attention. If this was some kind of prank again, he’d wring her pretty little neck. Sure, she never actually called in the one last night, he did, but using his job to get his attention would end up causing trouble. Trouble he didn’t need.
Yet, he couldn’t shake the thought maybe this could be his burglar.
Actually, this time it wasn’t a thought, but his gut.
Something he trusted.
No matter what feelings he might be having for the woman, he would draw the line if she was messing with him again. “I don’t have feelings,” he whispered.
Yes, you do, that female voice sang in his ears.
“Chief? You there?” he heard the dispatcher say.
“Yeah, just repeat that, please,” he said, annoyed at how easily a dead woman and a hot neighbor could make him crazy.
“She thinks someone broke into her home.”
His heart raced. “Is she there, alone?” He gripped the mic in one hand, maneuvered the gearshift with the other, glancing quickly in both directions before flipping his sirens.
“I’ve got her on the line.”
“Tell her I’ll be there in five.” Punching the gas, he peeled out into traffic and sped toward home. He hated Halloween.
Something bad always happened on Halloween.
Courtney covered the phone and ground out behind a clenched jaw, “Grandma, if this is your work, I’m going into the afterlife, and I’m gonna kill you all over again.”
Silence. Nothing.
“Talk to me, old lady.” She raised her fists to the ceiling.
Still total silence. Although, her grandmother had always been a stubborn mule, and she wouldn’t put it past her to give Courtney the silent treatment if her feelings had been hurt, this was too much.
Listen to your heart, it will guide your mind.
“Crazy, old woman,” she whispered.
“Ms. Nash, everything okay?” the woman on the other end of the phone questioned.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Chief McNally is pulling into your driveway. You can hang up as soon as you let him in.”
Courtney didn’t feel like waiting. She flipped closed her phone and made a beeline for the garage door. She hit the button, hugging her middle.
“Courtney?” Owen questioned when he stepped into the garage, his arms open as if he expected her to run to them.
“Thank God.” The moment she laid eyes on him, her body started to tremble. It hadn’t hit her until that moment she could have been in real danger. The possibility that someone other than her grandmother had turned over her furniture, scared the life out of her. She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his strong shoulders.
“What’s this?” he whispered, pressing his lips against her temple. “You okay?”
She felt him try to pry himself from her death grip, but she wouldn’t let go. “No,” she said, tightening her muscles.
“Courtney.”
He brushed her hair from her face. It almost felt like she mattered to him in the most primal way.
“I need to check things out. Let go,” he said with a firm tone.
“Oh.” She backed away, feeling like a fool. The only reason he would set foot in her house again was because he had to. “Someone was in my house.”
“Anything missing?” He pushed her aside and drew his weapon.
Briefly, she thought about stuffing his weapon up his butt, the insensitive oaf. “Not that I can tell, but the front door was open a tad.”
“Did you lock the doors before you left?” he asked. Slowly he made his way down the hallway.
She followed closely behind, but not too close, in fear of kicking him in his adorable tight ass. “I know I locked the garage door.”
He glanced over his shoulder with a raised brow. “And the front door?”
“Shit happened this morning that threw me for a loop. Can’t be sure.” She gave him her best snarky smile.
“You don’t say.” He stepped over her grandmother’s old rocker and peered into the kitchen. “Have you been upstairs?”
“No.”
“Hear anything?”
“No.”
“You’re real talkative tonight,” he said.
“It was a simple yes or no question.”
“I see.” He reached out to her, pressing his large hand against her back. “Stay close to me.”
Be careful, she heard her grandmother whisper. Others.
“What about others?” he questioned.
“You heard that?” She scooted closer, wrapping her arms around his solid middle.
“You said it in my ear.”
“No, I didn’t.” She squelched a smile. She knew he’d come around eventually. He had to. With renewed hope, she held him tighter.
“I can’t breathe.”
“Oh.” She loosened her grip and waited for him to take another step before following him to the top of the staircase.
“Stay tucked in behind me, just in case.”
She followed him from room to room. He didn’t say anything, just directed her by hand motions as he examined each room. He certainly had been thorough, which she should see as a good thing since her grandmother kept chanting others in her head.
Every once in a while, Owen would stop as if he had heard the same thing. Her grandmother had told her when hearts connected, completely connected, the two minds would be able to communicate.
“Are you sure nothing is missing?” he questioned again as they made their way down the stairs. With ease, he raised her grandmother’s rocker to its original upright position in the family room.
“Not that I can tell.” She scanned the room, noting that only the rocker had been disturbed. “I called because the front door was ajar and…the chair.”
She watched him examine the main door. He opened and closed it a few times, then turned to look at her. “Well, it wasn’t forced open.”
“Like I said. My morning hadn’t gone as planned.”
“It’s been really windy today.” He let out a long breath and scratched his head. “This has got to stop,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
He shook his head. “No one is here, and I don’t appreciate your little jokes. I know its Halloween, but you know how I feel a
bout all this.”
“I can’t believe you’re such a jerk,” she said with venom. Her temperature rose to new heights. “This isn’t a joke. I wouldn’t have called 9-1-1 if I just wanted to get you over here. I would have called you. Like the last time.”
“All the little whispers you keep hearing, the raccoons last night, and now this—I’m too old for games. I’m supposed to be working, not playing ghosts with you.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with my friend Owen?”
Sure, it looked bizarre and considering her stunt last night, she shouldn’t be surprised he questioned her integrity. But he should know she did understand the job factor.
The doorbell rang with the promise of trick-or-treaters. “I better get that,” she mumbled, too annoyed to deal with Mr. Cop staring at her with an incredulous look on his face. Grabbing her candy, she marched to the door and swung it open.
Damn you, Owen. I didn’t do this.
Okay.
Did she just hear Owen say ‘okay’?
“Trick or Treat!” a few youngsters yelled.
“I’ll take a trick!” one boy said with excitement dancing in his eyes, the only thing she could see behind his white mask and black hood. She really needed to catch up on the movie characters.
“For now, take a nice treat.” She felt Owen hovering over her, and what she was about to say was going to set him off, big time. What the hell, he’s already pissed off, she thought to herself.
Then why make it worse. You don’t want him to leave now, do you? she heard her grandmother’s voice echo between her ears.
“Around eight, if it’s okay with your folks, I’m going to serve hot cider and homemade donuts,” she told the children.
“...and tell ghost stories! Her house is haunted, you know,” a girl wearing a Wonder Woman costume said.
Owen grunted some incomprehensible verbiage, which she chose to ignore. “The garage door will be up and bring your own stories too, just nothing too scary.” She leaned over and batted the little girl’s nose.
“Why not?”
She chuckled. “Chief McNally gets kind of frightened by all those stories and we don’t—”
“I do not,” he said with a deep voice. “They are just stories. Not real.”