Grave Instinct

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Grave Instinct Page 13

by Bev Pettersen


  “So he knew Dad.” She waited, knowing from experience it was best to let Robert come to his own conclusions.

  “Yes,” Robert said. “Your dad posed as a horse groom and rescued Carlton from a mugging one night when the man was visiting the barn.” Robert’s voice was picking up steam now and it sounded like he’d moved away from his caddy. “Of course, the mugging was staged but Carlton was so impressed with his courage that he was hired as one of Carlton’s drivers. Your mother was worried, although I don’t think she ever knew the full risk.”

  Nikki squeezed her eyes shut. If Carlton had been involved, Erin was undoubtedly dead. The man had been convicted of three murders but according to news reports, there had been countless more. He must have been furious at her father for his deception. “So Erin might have paid the price,” she said slowly.

  “Possibly. But you can’t put all the blame on your father. He was just doing his best, trying to climb the police ranks.”

  Robert was too quick to assume she blamed her father. In fact, it helped to understand that there might have been a reason behind Erin’s disappearance, that the abduction would have happened regardless of any trail ride. It also confirmed her trust in Justin, no matter that he didn’t want to detail every minute of that afternoon. Best of all, she finally had a workable theory, something to pursue.

  “I have to see Carlton,” she said.

  “He’ll never agree to that. He was reclusive before. He’s probably even more so now. And he’s still dangerous.”

  “I’m going to talk to him. Even if I have to pretend to be someone else.”

  “That’s illegal. You could lose your license. And what’s the point? He’ll never admit anything. And it’s dangerous to go poking at a viper.”

  Maybe, Nikki thought, but some things were worth the risk. She had to see him, along with Carlton’s former wife who might be persuaded to throw a little dirt. Fake credentials might be required but knowing how and when to bluff was an important part of being an investigator. Robert had taught her that.

  She jammed the phone between her ear and shoulder, adrenaline pumping, fingers flying over the keyboard as she tapped in Thomas Carlton’s name.

  “You’re not listening to me, are you?” Robert said. “I hear your computer clicking. Ease up. I have a friend who knows the warden. But I’d feel better about calling in favors if you had more than a hunch.”

  She’d like something more solid too. Admittedly, Carlton might not have had anything to do with Erin’s disappearance. After all, her father would have been dead for almost a decade before he sought retribution. Certainly the detectives in charge of Erin’s case had never considered her father’s job a factor. But short of a crystal ball, there was no real way of knowing.

  Her fingers stilled over the keys, her gaze shooting to the door. She didn’t have a crystal ball but she did have a loyal friend only thirty feet down the hall. Of course, soliciting psychic help was something she avoided. The last time Sonja had been far from helpful. Her musings about “concrete” and “corner” had been nebulous, and then she had crushed Nikki’s hope, suggesting Erin was dead.

  This was different though. This wasn’t about finding Erin or expecting Sonja to come up with her sister’s whereabouts. This was merely checking to see if Carlton had been involved. A simple question really: Was the man so vindictive he would kill an innocent teen because of her deceased father’s undercover job?

  Surely any psychic could handle that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “For an accurate reading,” Sonja said, “I’ll need something more than a name. Can I talk to this guy on the phone?”

  “Impossible.” Nikki settled into one of the wicker chairs and flipped open her laptop. “Carlton is serving consecutive life sentences. Can’t you just look at his picture or something? I found a couple on the Internet.”

  “Some psychics do it that way but it’s not my strength.”

  Nikki leaned forward, still pumped by the idea that Sonja could help, even if she was an unconventional resort. “Can’t you pick up on something, some sort of vibe related to Erin? Something, anything, that I can pass on to Robert?”

  “If this is to gain Robert’s help, whatever I see won’t make a bit of difference.” Sonja gave a tinkling laugh. “He doesn’t believe in psychometry. He’s more closed off than you.”

  “But this is for me. So I’ll feel better about asking him for another favor. He doesn’t have as many contacts now and prison access won’t be easy. It’s likely Carlton won’t admit to anything even if we’re able to meet. But I have to try.”

  “So you believe in my abilities?” Sonja asked. “Or only when I say something you want to hear?”

  Nikki gave a rueful nod, acknowledging how she’d stormed out when Sonja stated Erin was no longer alive. For sure, she hadn’t wanted to hear that. But Carlton’s involvement changed everything…if he actually had been involved.

  “You’re right,” she said, openly grinning now. “But I am trying to be more receptive to what you do. I truly am.”

  Sonja softened. “Of course I’ll help you and Robert. Everything has energy, including photos. But I need a good picture of Carlton, one where he’s alone and relaxed.”

  Nikki was already scrolling over her laptop. She’d bookmarked several images of Carlton: one of him and his wife posing at the races, one outside the court room, and another when he was flanked by his entourage. But it might take awhile to find a candid shot. The man had been reclusive before going to jail and he’d also had plenty of money to pay for protection.

  Sonja rose. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the room but Nikki stayed focused on finding a useable image. She wasn’t sure how long she sat, but her coffee was cold when she finally took a sip.

  “I can’t find anything,” she said, blowing out a sigh. “Carlton didn’t even get his picture taken when his horses won.”

  Which proved he was a stone-cold killer capable of executing an innocent teen. Because who wouldn’t get excited about winning? She’d never forget her day at the track when she and Justin had rushed to the winner’s circle to greet his victorious horse. She’d been euphoric over the horse’s success, totally caught up in the event and for a rare moment, free of guilt about Erin. It had been a liberating afternoon, away from her mother and Robert. Alone with Justin. Of course, Lara had been with them as well. Obviously she was another of Justin’s longtime friends. Maybe even a longtime lover.

  Nikki set her mug on the table. Justin and Lara’s relationship wasn’t her concern. Not today anyway. Right now, all she wanted was a good picture of Thomas Carlton. For a purpose she didn’t really believe in.

  “I can’t believe I’m asking for psychic help,” Nikki said, shaking her head and smiling at the same time.

  “But this is progress,” Sonja said. “It shows you’re more accepting of what the universe sends. Now it’ll be easier for you to move through the grief stages. And get on with your life.”

  Nikki rolled her eyes. Just the fact that she was sitting here—asking Sonja to pull energy from a picture—proved she was as open as anyone. It was certainly empowering to finally have a suspect. She’d learned a lot about watching for little tells and she needed to see Carlton’s reaction when she asked about Erin. A prison visit would likely be a long time coming. The man was still elusive despite being behind bars. She couldn’t even find a suitable photo.

  “Here.” Sonja pressed a deck of tarot cards in Nikki’s hand. “Give them a shuffle. If I can’t see Carlton at least I can give you a reading.”

  “That won’t help,” Nikki said. But she dutifully shuffled the deck then waited while Sonja dealt three cards face down.

  “Does anything in the deck have a prison picture on it?” Nikki joked. “Maybe we could use that.”

  Sonja turned over the first card and the smile fell from Nikki’s face. “The Devil,” she breathed, staring at the card. Obviously it represented Carlton. The only thing it didn’t
have was the man’s prison number.

  Sonja flipped over more cards. Some of the images were colorful and rather pretty but most were dark. Nikki had no idea what they meant so she focused on watching her friend’s reaction. Sonja’s mouth had pursed and she kept reaching for the deck, placing more cards below the top three.

  “I’m trying to clarify the Three Fates,” Sonja said, her voice so low it seemed she was talking more to herself.

  “Sounds impressive.” Nikki forced a laugh, determined to lighten the mood. But it was hard not to be subdued by the ominous spread of cards. “Do they always look so foreboding?”

  Sonja didn’t answer. She flipped over another card. This one had a naked man and woman. Despite her skepticism about the reading, Nikki immediately felt better. The man and woman looked young and sexy and definitely happy.

  “That’s the angel Raphael,” Sonja said, turning over another card. The next one wasn’t nearly as nice. In fact, it showed a bunch of swords in someone’s back.

  Sonja abruptly leaned forward and grabbed Nikki’s hand. “You have to be careful.”

  Nikki frowned at the card. She didn’t have to be a trained psychic to see that it represented betrayal. Carlton obviously believed he’d been betrayed. But her father had been working on the side of the law and Carlton was a vicious murderer. The man deserved to have ten swords stuck in his back.

  “Be careful who you trust,” Sonja said, squeezing Nikki’s hand with a surprisingly strong grip.

  “You always say that.”

  “Yes, and I’m saying it again.” Sonja scooped up the cards, her movements jerky. “Is there a new guy in your life? What about the K-9 man? Do you trust him? What’s his name?”

  “Tony Lambert. And he’s just a work friend.”

  “No, something’s changed. You’ve been wearing a lovestruck look. And that could make you oblivious to danger. Keep Gunner close when you’re around this new guy, even if it ends up in the bedroom.”

  Nikki shifted, crossing her arms then her legs. It wasn’t Tony who she wanted in her bed. It was Justin. And Gunner would be no protection against him. She didn’t believe in all this mumbo jumbo stuff but the question came out anyway. “Did you see anything else in the cards? Something that says who I’ll be naked with?”

  “The cards are open to interpretation,” Sonja said. “But it appears you’re safe with Tony unless you’ve met him before. What scares me is that the betrayal was past and future.”

  “You mean that some guy betrayed me before?”

  “Yes,” Sonja said.

  “How long ago?” Nikki braced her shoulders, dreading the answer.

  “Not sure. The betrayal could have been in one of your past lives.”

  “Past lives? Oh, okay.” Nikki refrained from rolling her eyes. She shouldn’t have imagined this psychic stuff could help. On the other hand, if it made Sonja happy there was no reason not to indulge her friend and accept the occasional reading. It hadn’t been too painful. Although it would be better to do the tarot thing at Vinny’s where they could enjoy coffee and biscotti. That would be a better use of their time.

  “No matter what you believe or don’t believe,” Sonja scolded, clearly picking up on Nikki’s skepticism, “the betrayal is real. Just remember, you’re not alone. You have people who love you and who will always have your back.”

  She rose and wrapped Nikki in an uncomfortably long hug. When Sonja finally lowered her arms and stepped back, her eyes were twinkling. “I do find it curious that your only question involved your love life.”

  Sex life, Nikki thought, not love life. And that was because she didn’t want to hear Sonja talk about concrete again. Carlton might have attached Erin to a heavy block and dropped her in the water, just as he’d done to one of his competitors. The realization colored a whole new set of images. And the memory of Savannah’s dripping blond hair—so similar to Erin’s—made her shudder.

  “I do believe you’ll find her,” Sonja said, turning serious. “And that you’ll finally be able to give her a proper burial.”

  Always before Nikki had rejected the suggestion that Erin was dead but now she only nodded. “That’s what I’m hoping for,” she said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Nikki speed-dialed Justin’s phone then lost her nerve and jabbed the red button. She hadn’t talked to him in days, not since their visit to the K-9 center. But it was obvious he wasn’t going to call her. It would have been easier to apologize for doubting him if they hadn’t shared that kiss. Now the lines were uncomfortably blurred.

  She leaned over her office chair and stroked Gunner’s head, always her go-to response when battling indecision. Calling Justin and telling him about Carlton’s link to Erin would certainly be normal. Her sister’s disappearance had always been the tie that bound them. But she wanted Justin to know he was more than that. Contacting him now, only to reveal she needed help with a new suspect, would only cheapen her apology.

  Gunner tilted his head so she could reach behind his ear, and she gave him another preoccupied scratch. Dogs were much easier to understand than men. Give Gunner a bone, a little attention and everything was forgiven, no matter her offense.

  Of course, men appreciated food too.

  Brightening, she picked up her phone and called Vinny. It was early evening and the restaurant would be busy, but she had no doubt he’d be happy to pack something to go.

  Thirty minutes later, she was weaving through traffic with the mouth-watering smell of Italian food filling her car. She glanced at the thermal bag on her front seat and then in the rearview mirror at Gunner. He was drooling, his eyes locked on the bag. She had no idea what Vinny had packed but clearly it had her dog’s approval. With his keen sense of smell, he probably knew every type of cheese and seasonings.

  “We may not get any of this food,” she warned. Justin might not be home or he could have already eaten. Or he might have company. But it didn’t matter if Lara or some other woman was there. Nikki wanted to apologize.

  She’d hurt him with her questions and her belief in his innocence had little to do with the emergence of Carlton as a likely suspect. Justin helped people; he didn’t hurt them. Certainly his focus was on punishing wrongdoers but that punishment stayed within legal boundaries. He’d always had a deep respect for life, from safety at the barn to the health of people and horses to worrying about all the unwanted animals dumped at the end of the driveway.

  She turned onto a residential street, peering through the dusk at the stately homes. Street lights illuminated the sidewalk but they weren’t much help revealing house numbers. Justin had moved from his city condo several years ago. She’d been to his home on a few occasions. He’d always been driving though and she hadn’t paid much attention. In fact, she’d barely made it past the front door. There had been the time when he’d made her coffee and she had used a downstairs bathroom, but she couldn’t remember many details, just an overall impression of masculine luxury.

  She’d assumed he didn’t want dog hair all over his house but that didn’t make sense considering he’d kept Gunner here for six months. And he didn’t brush at his pants like some people did, as if dog hairs were a form of kryptonite. He certainly hadn’t minded Gunner in his car. Then again, Justin was a difficult man to understand.

  Gunner whined and she checked the rearview mirror. He was standing now, no longer eyeing the food. His nose was pressed against the side window as he stared at a large house set back from the street. It looked somewhat familiar. She definitely remembered the wooden fence extending from the side. She didn’t covet many things but a big fenced yard was on that list.

  She eased to a stop alongside the curb. A scattering of vehicles dotted the street. None of them were Justin’s but that didn’t mean he wasn’t home. His house had a triple garage. And even though she’d told herself she didn’t care if Lara was visiting, it was a relief to see there wasn’t a horse trailer parked in his drive.

  She scooped up the food an
d swung open her door.

  “Stay,” she said, leaving the car and air conditioner running. It would be presumptuous to knock on the door with Gunner at her side, considering she wasn’t at all sure of her welcome. Likely this would be an Uber-style delivery. And if Justin wasn’t there, she and Gunner would simply drive home and enjoy a lavish Italian meal. Not such a bad outcome except then she’d have to figure out another way to apologize.

  She took a moment to lower the side window, an ingrained safety habit. This didn’t seem a neighborhood of muggers but she hadn’t forgotten Sonja’s warning to keep him close. If Gunner needed to come to her rescue he’d be able to leap from the car and be at her side in seconds.

  “Stay,” she repeated, then turned and strode up the flagstone walkway, too preoccupied to enjoy the beautiful orange trees and the scent of night-blooming jasmine.

  She pressed the doorbell, holding Vinny’s thermal bag in front of her like a shield. Her nervousness was surprising. She wasn’t a people pleaser, and she and Justin often disagreed. But this was different. She’d hurt him and the knowledge weighed heavy.

  She automatically assessed his security: steel door, sensor lights and at least one visible camera. Quite a fortress. She pressed the doorbell again but the time dragged, long enough for her to locate two more subtle cameras. Obviously he could see who was at the front door so he must not be home. Or he didn’t want to answer.

  Her shoulders sagged the same time as the heavy door swung open. The first thing she noticed was Justin’s rumpled hair, his bare feet, his scowl. Oh, hell, he must have a female guest. Even grumpy, he looked totally hot.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said, trying not to gape at the ripples beneath his tight shirt. He must have intensified his workouts since she’d last seen him at the gym. She didn’t remember him being so bulked up, or maybe she was just hyper conscious now. She pulled her gaze upward and shoved the bag out so forcefully it hit his flat stomach.

 

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