Seeing the boots and campaign hat as soon as the officer emerged from his car, he hit the button to roll down his passenger side window, because that was their preferred approach. Since the guy took his time approaching the window, Nico had time to think about how he was going to deal with this. Normally, he would have just taken the ticket and not mentioned his job, even though it was rare to find a trooper who would cut a guy a break for professional courtesy. But there was absolutely nothing normal about this day.
His badge was out and waiting for the trooper. “Look, I know I was flying, I’m sorry. My 85-year-old grandmother was just rushed to St. Francis ER. I will slow down, but I gotta get to my grandmother.”
The trooper, whose nameplate said DelVecchio, didn’t even take off his sunglasses as he leaned in the passenger window. “I clocked you doing 85 in a 50. I could take you to jail.”
The scent of nicotine gum wafted past Nico’s nostrils. “You did. I was. And if you want to take me to jail, do it after I’ve seen my grandmother. That’s all I’m asking.”
The guy in the ridiculous Smokey Bear hat pursed his lips and sighed, and Nico knew, just knew, he was going to jail today. That would really be the rancid cherry on the top of the melted sundae that was today. “Welp,” he drew the word out for the space of a breath and the ‘p’ on the end sounded like more of an accident than anything else. “Your grandma—”
“Donatella Ianucci,” Nico supplied, doing his best to keep the hope from his tone.
“Your gramma is an Ianucci?” It was a combination of awe and wistfulness. Nico didn’t like name-dropping, but he was desperate and she needed him.
“Yeah, sweet little old lady who is— right now— alone in the ER. I need to get there, so if you’re going to arrest me, do it. Otherwise, I got somewhere to be.” With all the information laid out like that, all he could do was wait.
The trooper took his badge wallet from him and looked it over for long enough that Nico thought he might be checking for prints. Finally, he handed it back to him, “Okay, go be with your grandmother, and for godsakes, slow down. I can’t guarantee the next guy you meet will be so understanding.”
Nico nodded his thanks and took back his wallet, tossing it into the seat next to him as he turned on his signal to rejoin the interstate traffic. He meant to thank to trooper verbally, but would email him later once he had a proper grip on the situation.
The feeling of being out of control was unfamiliar to him. He was a man who prided himself on his ability to anticipate and plan for contingencies, neither of which he’d been able to do so far today. Starting with Nahia, she was incredible, in bed and out, and she’d shown him today things he’d thought were only possible in movies. He was loath to think on it too long, lest he try to process it beyond admitting a force unseen had lobbed a large piece of furniture at him and his cohorts, and he had no other explanation that even approached reasonable.
Also unreasonable was the closeness he felt to her, the bizarre connection they both seemed to feel, even if neither of them acknowledged it openly. Her look of concern before he left tugged at his heart, but he didn’t want to say anything until he knew more. Not to mention she would insist on going with him and taking care of him— he knew her well enough to expect that from her— and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings by saying ‘no’.
He wasn’t ashamed of her, by any means. Nico just felt it was too soon to subject her to his extended family. Especially before she met his immediate one. He could hear his mother now, reading him the entire riot act twice for that transgression alone, and adding one more for not calling immediately with news of Mrs. I. He knew she’d have a million and one questions, to which he would have no answers until he spoke to the doctors, so there was no point in worrying her into a spate of novenas until he could tell her what to pray for.
As he pulled into the parking lot, he thought about sliding into the law enforcement parking space near the ambulance bay, but figured someone else may need it more. He was out of the car and practically running to the entrance, because if Mrs. Ianucci called him, he didn’t want her to wait any longer than necessary.
After a thorough grilling from Nigel that left her charred and more than a little exposed, he dropped Nahia off at the store because her car was there, another source of amusement to him in a long line today. As much as she wanted to be mad at him for prying, he was her best friend, and she would have told him everything eventually anyway. She was just mad at him for being so smug about his matchmaking prowess.
The bell on the door jingled overhead as she walked in through the front. It wasn’t often she got to enter her domain like that, and she found it helped her to see the store as a customer, in case things needed to be moved or shifted to better accommodate the clientele. Mags looked up from where she was leaning against the counter casually flipping through a magazine and waved.
“Hey girl! I told you to take the whole day off, I’ve got this!” she said with her trademark wide grin and a conspicuous wink.
Nahia smiled at a couple of her regulars as she made her way behind the counter and flopped down on the stool. Being in the store, on her home turf, was like a weight had been lifted from her that she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying. “I know, but my car is here, you know?”
The redhead’s grin turned lecherous. “Oh, I see. Yeah, that could be a problem.” She stepped around her to cash out a customer, and then they were alone in the store. “So…the suspense is killing me! How was it? I mean, I’m sure it was awesome if you left your car here and came in just now, but details! A girl needs details!”
Nahia gave her friend a tired grin and tossed her purse into the cubbyhole it normally resided in when she was at work. “It was…” she trailed off as she mused on it, her eyes closing involuntarily.
“Amazing, wonderful, spectacular, incredible, life-altering, stop me if I go too far.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, all those, and a double chocolate martini.”
Mags’ eyes rounded, and she looked suitably impressed. “Nice. So what are you doing here? I figured you two would want to spend the day together. You know, getting to know each other in the biblical sense and whatnot.”
Her friend could be described as many things, but subtle was not among them. Nahia couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, it didn’t quite work out that way.”
Mags hopped up on the counter and let her legs swing like a little kid in a grown up chair. She was diminutive enough that the idea wasn’t too much of a stretch. “Trouble in paradise already?”
She shook her head immediately. “Not at all. Just, the day went all sideways.” At her friend’s raised eyebrow, she replied, “You were right, by the way.”
Mags picked up her previously discarded magazine and flipped through it idly. “I never get tired of hearing that,” she pinned her down with a pointed stare, “and I hear it a lot. But please feel free to tell me what I was right about.”
Nahia looked down at her hands and over at her bag. “Well, it’s kinda weird and more than a little freaky.”
Mags snorted and made a face like she’d sucked on a particularly angry lemon. “I’m sorry, have we met? Hi,” she held out her hand for Nahia to shake, “I’m Magdalena Benton, physical medium, clairvoyant, and part-time sales clerk.”
She grinned ruefully as she took her friend’s hand, careful not to linger. There were certain things she’d just as soon keep to herself. “Okay, I get it.” She then relayed the adventure at the mansion, right down to her impression of a football as the guys sprinted out the front door.
Mags’ green eyes were the size of dinner plates. “Whoa! You weren’t kidding about sideways. Jesus.” She started fingering the medicine pouch around her neck out of habit. “Why don’t we start at the beginning? Tell me about the staircase.”
She shuddered, still very unsettled by the experience. “It was…” she searched for the words to explain, finally settling on, “very weird. It was like a movie
, the lighting changed, the time of day changed, everything was different, but not. It was like the house was new, and loved, and Mrs. McManus was on the staircase in this lovely evening dress, it was peach and complemented her red hair and pale skin. The lights were on, the kids were laughing, and it was beautiful, so hard to reconcile with how it is now. It stopped as soon as I let go.”
Mags gave her a wry grin and ran a hand through her spiky red locks. “Yeah, that’s how it starts. I knew you had it in you.”
Nahia grimaced. “I kinda wish I didn’t.”
Her friend sniffed and set the magazine aside. “Eh, you’ll get used to it. Now, let’s talk about the flying chifferobe. First of all, I had no idea you were an antique furniture junkie.”
It was her turn to sniff. “Feh, it’s just a hobby. My grandmother had an antique store and I worked there during the summers when I was little.” Tiring of her spot on the stool, she stood up and shoved her hands in her back pockets as she began to pace. “It was so crazy. I could feel him. Just the rage, really, but it was intense and kinda overwhelming. So, so angry. He literally shoved us into the room and then left us there behind a locked door. The only thing I could think of was to try and bring him out. It was either that or take the door off, and there was no guarantee he would let us.”
“So you taunted him, and he got pissed and tossed a dresser at you. How’d that work out for you?” The look Mags gave her was drenched in disappointment.
She felt like a she’d been caught smoking behind the school. “Yeah, I know. Seemed like a good idea at the time. I figured I could draw him out and make contact with him.”
The redhead smirked and crossed her arms. “You made contact all right. You learn anything useful?”
Nahia paused in her wandering and stared at the ceiling as she replayed the scene in her mind. “You mean besides learning Nigel screams like a girl?”
Mags’ full lips twitched and she snorted, trying to contain her amusement. “I have a hard time believing that you didn’t know that already, but yeah, besides that.”
She only had to think a moment more. “Actually,” she went straight to her purse and pulled out the tiny rosette she’d retrieved from the debris. “I need you to examine this.”
Mags looked concerned as she eyed the wood sliver. “Examine or examine?”
She hummed, but refrained from pressing the wood into her friend’s hands. “Which do you think?”
The spunky little redhead hopped the counter and held out her hand. Nahia carefully placed the wooden rose in her palm and waited. Mags blinked, and cocked her head, before looking at her with her most serious expression. “Once I’m done with this, we’re gonna have a conversation.”
Somehow Nahia knew that was not what she wanted to hear.
Nico was grateful he lived not too far from the hospital, because as he collapsed into his favorite overstuffed chair in front of his obscenely large television, he had nothing left to give. Mrs. I. was fine, though a little shaken up from her fall. Peter, her oldest son, had just arrived with his oldest, Simon, when he did, and was glad to see him. The doctors explained it was a combination of exhaustion from working all the time on her various post-retirement volunteer functions, in addition to not eating. Peter and Simon took her home with much fuss, because she was an adult and didn’t need to be looked after, even though she’d been diagnosed with a mild concussion and the doctors recommended it.
Now that he was home, he took a moment to soak in the quiet. He knew he had to call his mom and Nonna, as well as get back to his sister with sage brotherly advice which she would promptly ignore. And then there was Nahia. He sighed in pleasure involuntarily.
Gathering his laundry from yesterday, he walked inside his laundry room, pondering the previous night. He really hadn’t planned on taking her to bed, just dinner and a conversation, maybe another bone-melting kiss. The escalation in their relationship was as unexpected as it felt natural. He was not a guy known for his emotional availability in a relationship, much more accustomed to the hit and run style of management than actually putting in a lot of time and effort. But this, this ‘thing’, this connection he felt to her was almost organic, completely effortless on his part, which was, in itself, even stranger than the woman of his affections.
He sighed her name as he went to the fridge for a beer before returning to his chair. He knew he only had a little while longer to put off his family, and wanted to take advantage of it as much as possible. Nahia Nizhoni, a name that made the speaker want to sing it rather than just say it, the sounds rhythmic and lyrical. There was an understated beauty to the names that matched the owner perfectly. She’d been incredible today, taking on whatever the hell had been in that room, fighting back against something only she could hear, but had made itself and its rage abundantly clear to all involved.
He’d carried her out under his arm, not realizing it until they were outside and he suddenly remembered the gun in one hand and woman under his other arm. That must have been a sight. She’d not commented, thankfully, but he could think of nothing else besides getting her out of there and away from whatever had assaulted them.
The urge to protect her, to be with her, was an overwhelming force in him, and he didn’t know how to fight it, or even if he wanted to. His washing machine beeped, and he got up to move his stuff to the dryer. As soon as it started, he went to his room to grab a change of clothes to toss in his duffle. He’d call his mom on the way; it was the only way to keep the conversation short, and like earlier today, he had somewhere to be.
Nahia had a lot to think about after she and Mags closed the store and she returned home. There was nothing, nothing she wanted more than answers, but her friend seemed pretty convinced getting them might be more trouble than they would be worth. The knowledge gleaned from her friend’s gifts weighed heavily on her mind as she kicked back on the couch and flipped on the television to distract her from her ruminations.
The ghost of Donnell McManus was angry. He’d been angry in life, and now his anger had no restraints since it no longer had a body to which to attach. The voice of her father wafted through her mind then, something he’d said when she’d first gone ghost-hunting, that time at an abandoned asylum: “Those people were disturbed when they had bodies. What do you think is going to happen now that they don’t?” It remained a very salient question.
She was uniquely equipped to fight back if she chose to, having had a fair amount of training in the course of her faith and her hunts, but did she want to? What good would come of it? Why was she so drawn to the damn house?
When Nico had surprised her by taking her back to the house, she’d been delighted. Nahia had honestly thought his first experience with the paranormal would be his last. He was a normal guy, not like most of the ones she’d come across in the field, and this was not only not his scene, but well beyond his depth, too. And yet, he’d come back like a champ, and she had to respect him for it.
It was one of the many things she appreciated about the man, and though she’d only met him a few days prior, she felt easily as close to him as she was to Nigel. Closer, even, given their explosive sexual chemistry from the prior night. It was a key that fit into a lock, crass as the analogy was, opening her to new experiences, ones she’d never had or even knew she’d wanted.
She was, with him, the same person, only changed, better, and that was lot to ascribe to a relationship of only a few days. Up to this point, she’d not even bothered to stick around more than a couple weeks, with most men having outlived their entertainment value only a few days into the adventure, and yet, Nico… Nahia sighed and hoisted herself off the couch to grab a beer from the fridge. If she was going to brood, the least she could do was drink while she did it.
Today with Nico had shown her a few things, more than she’d really wanted, if she was honest with herself. Nico would protect her in the face of untold danger, that was his nature, but instead of being put off, she actually felt cared for, and maybe even cheris
hed. And not to put down Nigel, but they seemed to find more trouble together than he’d managed to get them out of, and that was just his nature, too.
Add to that Old Man McManus, as she’d come to think of him, and there was a lot to ponder. She grabbed two beers to be on the safe side before she returned to the couch. It was only reasonable. Mags had seen things, scary things. An argument over children, children who had no father, or at least, an unknown father, accusations of an affair the consequences of which echoed through time. The image she’d painted was disturbing as hell.
So far as her friend could tell, Mrs. McManus had slept with Aurelio, the gardener, and passed the children off as her husband’s, or at least, that was what McManus believed in his soul. Mags couldn’t tell why the marriage had unraveled; only that it did so in spectacular and extremely final fashion. “Bodies everywhere” had been the phrase used. The gardener with the hedge clippers, the wife in the shower, the children, Nahia didn’t want to know how they’d met their ends, because some things her mind just couldn’t un-see.
McManus had killed himself not long after the cops arrived. Someone had called them after hearing the screams of terror and pain coming from the whirlwind of destruction within the stone walls. His suicide, coupled with the egregious acts he’d committed immediately prior, were more than enough to shackle him to this mortal coil, his house now his eternal prison, his damnation in his high society digs.
There was a certain poetry to it, the idea of him being imprisoned there, but she knew there had to be more to her connection to the place. Her need to be there in the house, her sadness upon seeing its disrepair, those were unusual for her to experience, and she certainly didn’t know what to make of them. Mags’ comment that she knew Nahia had psychometric abilities only added to the list. She’d never touched anything before and seen its former life, been able to suss out information from merely the placement of her hands, and yet, damn.
Dead and Disorderly (Behind the Blue Line Series Book 2) Page 10