Book Read Free

The Caelian Cycle Boxed Set

Page 38

by Donnielle Tyner


  I was taken aback. Gordon had told me that some people who had clout often opted to pay for services rendered in the form of favors on top of a monetary fee and although Dr. Sokoloff hadn’t hired me to find his nephew, I knew his offer was huge. This man, who was regarded across the nation as the top of his field was offering to drop everything to help me if I needed him.

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded and then walked away, with a little less swagger than before. His healing session must have tired him out a bit. I watched him and wondered if there would ever be a need for me to call him again.

  Chapter 5

  The door had just clicked closed when the snap of Gordon arriving resounded in the office. With his teleporting Talent, he rarely used doors. Silence always followed for a few seconds as the others in the office stopped their work to look for where Gordon landed. He had areas in the office that were reserved for him to land, but there had been occasions where he would pop behind someone while they were working or the one time that he had miscalculated and jumped into the restroom while it was occupied.

  “What are you standing around here for? Get back to work!”

  I gave him a two-fingered salute. Gordon hadn’t been impressed when I told him how I had solved the case. He was even more unimpressed when he discovered I wasn’t going to use the case to jump start my career and in the process bring in more business. Gordon stopped at each desk, dropping off assignments and the occasional letter. His assistant, Karen, used to insist that she do it, but Gordon liked having the excuse to visit with his employees.

  “You’ve got another letter,” Gordon dropped a blue envelope on my desk. The psychological distress and warped indoctrination that was my childhood swelled in a crest of pain that crashed into a hollow sadness.

  Without opening the letter, I slid it into the trashcan. I knew what the letter contained. It was another invitation to come back to the Lane family. To take a seat on the council pro tempore while I took a year of penance under the Order of Caelum and began my studies in politics.

  It was repulsive. They didn’t miss their only son. Their letters never apologized. Never asked how I was doing. Never held a hint of emotion. Just a cold invitation for me to give up my life so they could have another Lane on the council. Another puppet for my mother to manipulate. Another pawn to give the Lane family more power.

  Politics. I wanted nothing to do with it.

  With every letter I despised my parents more, but in the same moment, I felt more at ease with where my life was heading. Granny Nell had taken me in and imparted essential life lessons that I would have never learned with my parents. Even though a part of me wished I still had the farm, so I wouldn’t have to live with the haunting memory of seafoam eyes, I knew both losing the farm and the lesson learned from that one assignment had brought me to where I was today.

  “Ya know Kian,” Gordon’s rough voice was unnaturally subdued. “If I had any family livin’, I wouldn’t neglect them the way ya do.” He raised a hand as I opened my mouth to protest. “Now listen, boy. I know yer parents are lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut, but they are yer family. I’m not sayin’ for ya to go back to them slidin’ on yer belly, but ya could at least read their letters. They could’ve changed.”

  “Gordon. They haven’t. I’ve opened a few of them and they’re all the same.” I winced at the sorrow in my voice.

  “When ya first came into my office, I thought ya were another family runaway who wouldn’t be worth two cents rubbed together, but ya turned out a’right. I just hate that ya have to work like me to get by.” He paused to release a few deep coughs. “I wasn’t raised with a silver spoon in my mouth. My family hid me and my sister in the smoky mountains. We grew up with no education and when our parents died, we struggled to find work. The families don’t want the uneducated. You could be something.” He stopped and began to cough in earnest.

  Gordon hardly ever spoke about himself and most of what he said I had picked up over the years so it didn’t surprise me. But what did was his faith in me.

  “I may have living family members and opportunities not afforded to you, but I’m glad I’m here with you instead of there. I think it’s where I’m supposed to be.”

  Gordon nodded as he picked up the small stack of cold case files I kept on my desk. He shuffled them until he landed on the missing infant file and raised both eyebrows, causing the existing wrinkles in his forehead to deepen. “Yer probably right. These cold cases aren’t the money makers, but I can see the change in ya. You’ve found a purpose in life and that’s what man has been looking for since the dawn of creation.”

  There was a pregnant pause as both of us were lost in our own thoughts before Gordon’s cough broke the silence.

  “You need anything, Gordon?”

  “Boy, I didn’t ask ya to be my wet nurse. I’m fine and ya need to get back to work. I’ve got a case that’s perfect for yer special skills.”

  “Oh yeah and what’s that?” I asked, nervous to see where he was heading with that comment. I had no special skills other than my Talent.

  Gordon pulled a file out from under his arm and threw it on top of the cold case stack. His lifted his chin and gave me a defiant look before explaining. “This case is what yer goin’ to be working on next. If ya already started on another cold case, then yer gonna have to put that’un on the back burner. This’un needs to git done yesterday and yer the best one fer the job.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because yer young, male, and good lookin’ which are the requirements for ya to get close to the sorority sisters of Alpha Alpha Gamma at NTU.”

  “O…kay,” I drawled as I reluctantly reached for the file, skimming through the photos and paperwork.

  “Why do my looks have anything to do with an investigation of a sorority that’s accused of stealing money from the university?”

  “Boy, there are other ways to get the job done that don’t require brute strength and I don’t got those skills in my old age.” The rattling in his chest intensified as another coughing fit erupted from his body. I waited for him to finish as I helplessly watched his body convulse. “Now. Where was I?”

  “Skills other than brute strength.”

  “Right. Ya need to learn the finesse of using your raw sexuality to get women to open up to you.”

  I coughed, a little uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going. “Gordon, I don’t think…”

  “You listen here boy. There will be times when a little masculine sex appeal will get ya the information ya need or even get ya out of a precarious situation. I’m not askin’ ya to whore yourself, but a man can flirt and turn on that sexual energy to either get the girls to talk in order to get in yer pants or talk so you will go away. Either way, ya get them to talk.”

  “This is by far the weirdest conversation we’ve ever had.”

  “Yeah. That’s why I waited this long to impart my final bit of wisdom to ya.” He looked at me expectantly.

  “Give me a minute. Okay?”

  “Ya got five.” He nodded before walking down the hall toward the restrooms.

  Gordon’s lessons had always been valuable and to be honest, I could think of a few times that flirting might have gotten me the information I sought quicker than I had, but at the same time the idea made me uncomfortable. Was it because I thought it was wrong? No, but I could see how that kind of power could be intoxicating for a man.

  The unease grew as I thought more about what Gordon had said. I knew he was only giving me time to adjust to the idea of what his lesson would entail, not for me to agree to it. But dammit, I wasn’t a siren. Seduction wasn’t natural for me and sex had either been an afterthought or a way to distract me from life. Neither was something I pursued in my spare time. Physical relations led to romantic ones which led to another emotional attachment that became a weakness for others to exploit.

  Oh! Well that’s interesting. Everything came together in sharp clarity. I was
scared. Scared of emotional attachment.

  “That doctor really did clear up some junk in my head,” I mumbled.

  “What was that boy?” Gordon asked as he walked back into the general office area, still adjusting his pants.

  “Nothing.” Now that I knew the root of the problem, the solution was simple. I could absorb what Gordon had to teach and then apply it when practical. Besides, not all flirtations would lead to sex and not all sex led to emotions. I could always be on the lookout for the signs of emotional attachment.

  “Ya ready?” Gordon asked as he leaned his hip against the corner of my desk.

  “Lead the way.”

  Chapter 6

  2 months later.

  Huge drops of rain splattered against the windshield of my truck as I sat inside the cab, watching the parking lot of Frank’s. My white-knuckled hands grasped the steering wheel, shaking a little from the idling engine while I watched mourners shuffle through the open doors. I had been staring for so long my eyes burned, but I just couldn’t seem to gather the motivation to go inside.

  Lung cancer.

  Shit. Gordon could have warned me, but according to his lawyer, he didn’t want me to worry. He had found out too late and refused any treatment. There was nothing I could have done for him, but damn it if I wouldn’t have tried everything. Gordon was the last person on this planet I had considered family and now he was gone too.

  I sat there until there wasn’t a soul in the lot. Dread held me in my seat. If I went inside, I would see people drinking and exchanging tales about Gordon. In time the atmosphere would turn from a weighted sorrow to a warming peace that only came from listening to uplifting stories and recalling your own good memories about the ones who’ve departed. It was a natural way to release the tight hold of grief, but that didn’t mean that I was ready to participate.

  Too many emotions swirled inside my head. I couldn’t grasp one for more than a few seconds before it melted away, leaving me empty. So, I tucked them all way for me to sort through when my mind stilled.

  My body jumped off the seat when a loud knock broke through my thoughts. Frank stood outside my window, his lips set in determination and his unnaturally blue eyes narrowed on me. In one hand, he held a comically small, hot pink umbrella that must belong to one of his daughters while his other hand indicated that he wanted me to roll the window down. I obliged.

  “What you doing out here, staring at nothing?”

  “I’m not ready to go inside yet.”

  “Why not?”

  I shrugged my shoulders in response. If I were honest, I would tell him that I was scared. Afraid of opening the Pandora’s box inside my head and releasing a maelstrom of pain that would cause me to regress to those months after my grandmother died.

  More than anything, I didn’t want to become that version of myself ever again.

  “Kian, turn off the car and get on inside. Everyone is waiting for you. Don’t let that fear I see dancing around in your mind be in control. You got me. You got Junior. And we will be here for you.” Frank’s eyes danced with wisdom and the promise of a man who refuses to give up.

  “Okay.” My hands steadied as I went through the motions of shutting down the ignition and gathering my things.

  Frank ran ahead as soon as he saw me step out of the truck and waited by the door, shaking out the little pink umbrella. I took my time walking to the door. The rain had waned since the graveside service, softening from swirls of stinging, needle-like raindrops and deafening cracks of thunder to the soothing pitter-patter of fattened sprinkles. My lips curved upward into a sad smile.

  During rainstorms, my grandmother would sit on her covered front porch and no matter what time of day it was, she would have a hot cup of coffee in her hand while she listened to the rain. After I moved in with her, she’d ask me to join as long as I stayed quiet. She would tell me that when nature has something to say it’s wise to sit quiet and listen.

  It was practical advice that I took to heart. It was also why I was so good at my job. People say more than they think if you shut up long enough to hear it.

  The bar was silent as I stepped inside and shook the droplets of rain off my jacket. There was a good mix of Caelians and norms evenly dispersed throughout the establishment. It didn’t surprise me as it would have if this were a wake for any other person. Gordon had friends from all sides.

  I followed Frank up toward the bar where Junior waited with two trays of shot glasses filled to the brim with amber liquid. Whiskey. Gordon’s drink of choice. With a nod from his father, Junior distributed the glasses through the silent crowd before stopping to hand both myself and Frank a glass. The weight of the cool glass felt heavier than it should. My hands shook with nervousness.

  “Gordon was a grumpy bastard, but he was a hell of a good man,” Frank declared to the mourners. He reached out with his free arm and wrapped it around my shoulders, pulling me in to his side in a tight embrace. “He didn’t have any family until the day a desperate young man waltzed into his office asking for a job. Gordon saw a piece of himself in Kian and decided right there that he would take the boy under his wing. Gordon loved Kian as his own, even if he never said those words outright. It’s why he left Kian everything. His money. His business. His legacy.”

  Murmurs of agreement spread throughout the crowd and I felt the weight of Gordon’s life press down on my shoulders.

  “Raise your glasses while the boy says a few words.” I felt my eyes widen in shock as glasses raised across the room. Frank looked at me with an unspoken challenge in his gaze.

  “Um… I wasn’t exactly planning on speaking.”

  “It’s okay. Say what’s on your mind.” Someone yelled from the crowd.

  “Gordon was more like a father to me than my own flesh and blood. To those who didn’t know him and even to those of us who did, he was consistently gruff and vulgar, but through all the surly behavior he was a caring man to those close to him. In this last year, he made sure I knew every lesson he learned and at the end, he told me he was proud of who I was becoming. Those words mean the world to me. So, friends, drink your toast to Gordon, but I will be pouring mine out instead because if Gordon were here, he would be disappointed if I let a drop touch my lips.”

  All around the room, glasses tipped back in silence while mine tipped forward—the sound of the whiskey hitting the wooden floor reverberated off the walls and something fundamental clicked back into place in my mind. I had no reason to be scared. Those emotions I feared wouldn’t push me to the breaking point again. All at once I felt rush of freedom mingled with the aching loss of Gordon. The sensation rolled through my body, leaving a restful peace in its wake.

  There was another moment of silence before the jukebox began playing an old country song that was one of Gordon’s favorites. With the formalities over, the crowd broken into smaller groups. The noise of conversation a constant murmur under the twang of the music.

  “You did good.” Frank patted me on the back before leading me to Gordon’s corner booth. My booth now. Junior laid three cans of Coke on the table before he threw himself into the booth next to me.

  Junior gathered his dreads and wrapped the thick strands with a black strip of cloth before turning to look at me. “What now, Kian?” he asked, before taking a long drink of his soda.

  “Gordon left me the agency. The business side just about runs itself. Most everyone in the office has been there longer than I been alive and the office manager doesn’t need my meddling in the business. The other detectives are more experienced than I am. So, I guess I just keep doing what I was doing before Gordon died.”

  “You still working on those cold cases?” Frank asked.

  “I haven’t had much time to work on them these last few weeks since Gordon kept me busy with jobs he thought would help me hone my skills.”

  “Yeah, what skills do you got, pretty-boy?” Junior laughed as he slammed the empty can down on to the table.

  My eyes narrowed
as I looked at both men. “I see what you’re doing.” Two sets of forced innocent expressions stared back at me. It was obvious they were goading me into opening up about Gordon and before the toast, I would have been angry. They kept looking at me with expectant eyes and I sighed.

  “Did I ever tell you guys about when Gordon taught me how to use my ‘sexual energy’ to flirt my way into gathering information?”

  As the night wore on we shared our stories about Gordon, but my mind kept wandering back to the files on my desk. A month ago, I had tried to work on the missing infant case, but ran into a solid dead end. I still had the elderly couple and a few other simpler cases that caught my interest. A familiar restlessness started to spread throughout my body. The itch to start a new case.

  Gordon had given me all the tools I needed to succeed. I could do this on my own.

  Chapter 7

  6 months later.

  There had been no more letters. I didn’t know if it was a good thing or not that my parents had given up on my recruitment and I refused to dwell on the disappointment that surged whenever I thought of the lack of communication.

  “Hey Boss!” Conner ducked his head into my office. His brown eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’ve got a visitor.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s a representative for the Human Caelian Alliance.”

  I groaned and fisted my hair. “Send them back.”

  “Sure thing.” Conner paused. The sound of his calloused hands rubbing over his sheared black hair was grating. I was close to saying something before he slid it down to scratch at the scruff on his jaw.

  “Something on your mind, Conner?”

  He stepped into the office. His large frame was threatening to take up half the space across from my desk. Conner was an ex-military norm who had decided working for Gordon after being honorably discharged was a viable career option. He was as loyal to Gordon as he was to the US government and since I had taken over the business, his allegiance had transferred to me. I was glad to have him. He was a damn good investigator who has been with the agency since Gordon first opened his doors agency—he was a deep well of wisdom.

 

‹ Prev