by Diane Darcy
William’s eyes narrowed on Jasmine, and Lena realized she would not be happy if he were pinning her with that look.
“I don’t think ye realize how serious this is, Ms. Russey. I’m well aware there are ways to disguise yer scent, up to and including buying a witch’s spell. Everyone knows they’ll do anything for a price. Doonae think I willnae follow up on yer relationship with Mr. Cameron. If ye’re deceitful, I will find out the truth.” William paused. “Was there anything else ye’d like to say to me? Anything ye’d like to confess?”
“I don’t know why you’re looking at me. I didn’t make the cake, nor did I supply the knife.”
“Yet, it seems to me, ye are one of the most likely suspects.”
At that she leaned forward. “Because I once had a relationship with him? I’m the one who told you that or you’d never have known.”
“I already did know.” His look was sharp, wolf-like, and a shiver crept over Lena’s skin.
“It wasnae hard to find out as,” he glanced down at the paper once more, “ye once shared an apartment in Venice.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Years ago. But I’ve always made it a point to stay friends with all my ex-lovers. It’s a practice that’s served me well, as you can tell from my invite to cater the wedding.”
She chuckled, seeming genuinely amused. “Don’t waste your time looking at me. It’s more likely to be the photographer, isn’t it? He’s the one who was interested in the maid of honor until, that is, he found her with Creighton. Everyone knows. He made sure of that. He’s the one who took the picture and sent it to the bride.” Jasmine’s mouth twisted into a sly smile. “Bitter much?”
William stared at her until she looked down, apparently unable to hold his gaze. He finally said, “Ye’re free to go for now. And ye’re no’ to leave town. If ye do, I’ll send someone after ye, and ye’ll no’ like the results.”
Without another word, she was out the door.
Lena had to wonder why everyone was so willing to be questioned by William. And now he was threatening suspects and they were taking him seriously.
Quinn stuck his head in the room.
“Bring the priest in next.”
A moment later the priest, a dark-haired man in his mid-thirties or so, still wearing the white cassock, sat across from them. He spared Lena an interested glance, then shook his head. “Murder. This is a messy business.”
“Father Alderman,” William nodded once. “Any idea who did it?”
“No, of course not.” The man was gentle, soft spoken. “No one in the wedding party, I’m certain of it. It must have been a robbery gone bad.” He waved a hand. “Kids these days. Drugs. You just don’t know the things I see.”
He shook his head again. “Creighton contacted me after all these years to perform this wedding. I officiated at his first one, decades ago, you know. If his first wife could see this, she’d have been so shocked. Perhaps it’s for the best she’s passed on.”
“First wife?” William asked.
Decades ago? Lena wondered if she’d misheard.
“Oh, yes!” His face lit with pride. “This is the second marriage I would have performed for Mr. Cameron.”
“What happened to her? Were they divorced?”
“I shouldn’t think so. His bride was a staunch Catholic, and would never have divorced him. She’s passed on now.”
“How do ye know?”
“What do you mean?”
“How do ye know she’s passed on?”
“Oh, well, Mr. Cameron told me, of course.”
“But ye don’t know for sure? And ye were tae still perform the marriage?”
The priest gaped. “You think his wife is still living? That’s doubtful, in the circumstances.”
“Circumstances?”
“Well, she was human.”
“Human?” Lena parroted, speaking to the priest for the first time.
The man shrugged. “It happens. Anyway, my job is to marry them and bury them. Beyond that —” another shrug.
Did he mean the first wife was kind and caring? Or was this the werewolf thing again?
William looked frustrated. He leaned over and opened the door and Quinn was there at once. “Hunt down either the first wife, or her death certificate. But first bring me the photographer.”
He turned back to the priest. “Ye’re excused. Doonae leave town.”
“I live here,” Father Alderman said calmly. “I have for decades.” He stood and left.
William took Lena’s hand. “I know I went easy on him, but tis not likely to be a druid, is it?” His brow wrinkled. “If this is too much for ye, ye need to let me know.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s interesting. Weirdest first date ever, but I won’t say it’s not interesting.”
There was a tap and William seemed reluctant to release her hand. He finally opened the door, and in walked the man who’d been so outspoken earlier.
What was with this crowd? Every single one of them seemed to be drop-dead gorgeous. The dead man had known some very striking people.
He saw Lena and smirked, his hazel eyes zooming in on her. “And who is this?” The man’s camera still hung around his neck, and he lifted it as if to take a picture.
William’s big hand blocked the lens. “Would ye like me to rip that from around yer neck and toss it off the top of the building?”
“I get it, I get it. Hands off, is that it?” He shot Lena another smirky smile, and she simply held his gaze.
“Sit.”
He took a seat. “How did ye know the dead man?”
“I didn’t. I’m a friend of the bride’s, and she asked me to take the pictures.”
“What was yer relationship with the bride? Perhaps a close enough friend that ye might commit a murder at her behest?”
The photographer laughed. “As if. No, I actually know her through the maid of honor. She saw some of my work, showed it to the bride, and I was hired. At a very hefty price, I might add. Luckily the payment was up front.”
“I understand ye took a photo of the groom and the maid of honor together in a compromising situation.”
The photographer looked away, losing some of his bravado. “Who told you that?”
“I’ll need yer camera.”
Marcus’s fingers clenched on the camera before he finally lifted it off his neck and handed it over. “I’m going to get it back, aren’t I?”
Lena noted the camera bag slung over his shoulder, and that he used his elbow to hide it behind the chair.
“And the bag.” Lena insisted.
William glanced at her, and then leaned forward and grabbed the photographer by the shoulder and roughly turned him around. The bag swung forward again.
William took it, quickly rifled through it, and pulled out a picture of the groom and a woman in a compromising position.
“Ye printed photos of the event, eh? Did ye try to blackmail the groom, and when that didnae work out the way ye wished, perhaps he attacked ye, laughed at ye, so ye killed him? Did ye bring the knife along? Because the cake designer has assured me she didnae bring in a silver knife.”
The photographer’s smirk was long gone. “No! That is absolutely not what happened at all!”
“I say it is. I understand ye had a thing for the maid of honor. Are ye in love with her? Did ye kill Cameron out of revenge when ye caught him with yer girl?”
“No.” He slashed a hand through the air. “It’s not like that. I do not have a thing for Lindsay! And the groom didn’t even care. He chased me, but when he gave up, he was laughing. I gave the photo to the bride’s mother.”
“Why the bride’s mother?” William wanted to know.
“Because that’s what I was paid to do.”
“By whom?”
His lips twisted cynically. “By the maid of honor.”
Chapter 13
After the photographer was escorted out, his men came inside and Caleb reported on the guests he’d interv
iewed.
None seemed likely candidates for the murder.
Both Quinn and Caleb shot glances toward Lena and they looked at him expectantly. He knew what they wanted and was reluctant to introduce them. He wished to keep her for himself a bit longer, but when she turned a curious gaze on him, he sighed.
“Lena, these are my two best men, Caleb MacLean and Quinn Gordan. And this is Lena DeVille.”
“Nice to meet ye,” both murmured, on their best behavior.
“You, too,” she said.
“Lena is a psychic,” William stated proudly.
“Oh.”
“Ah.”
They both looked impressed, as well they might.
She chuckled and William suddenly wanted to get her away from his men. “I did promise to show ye the inner workings here at The Hemlock, did I no’?”
She grinned. “So you did.”
He quickly escorted her out and they made their way down the hallway, and back toward the lobby. “What do ye think? Do any suspects jump out at ye? Are there any feelings ye’d care tae share?”
“I think all roads seem to lead back to the maid of honor.”
“I do as well. We’ll find her soon enough.”
They reached the staircase that led to the lobby and Lena glanced down at the crowd, and toward the front doors.
William got a panicky feeling in his chest. “Where shall we start? Ye expressed an interest in the dungeons. Or perhaps ye’re hungry? We’ve many restaurants still open here.”
“Sorry. I just realized how tired I am. It’s been a long day, and I’m ready for bed.”
He tried to think of a way to keep her with him, some sort of entertainment, but when he looked at the clock, it was one in the morning, and when he looked back at her, she was yawning.
What he wouldn’t give to just install her in his suite, and before he knew it he was reasoning out loud. “I can see ye’re interested in the investigation. I’d hate for ye to miss out on anything. I’ve an extra bed upstairs. Would ye like to crash here for the night?”
Looking startled, she laughed, and then slowly shook her head. “That’s okay, I don’t really sleep well if I’m not in my own bed.”
“Or, there are hundreds of suites here in the hotel. I’ll get ye one of the best. Ye’ll have yer own space, a jetted tub, and room service.” He’d kick out whoever was in the suite next to his and install her instead.
He knew he was selling it too hard. He wished he could take the words back but didn’t want to be separated from her!
“I think I’ll just grab a taxi downstairs and call it a night.” Her words were soft, as if she were trying to let him down gently, and he knew he’d lost.
“I’ll take ye home.”
She hesitated. Maybe she didn’t want him to know where she lived, but of course, he’d known that all afternoon, practically from the moment he’d had her name and phone number. He was in the security business, after all.
It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed not to rush over and watch for her. Only his fear of being discovered because of her psychic abilities had kept him from doing it.
Finally, she nodded. “Only if it’s not putting you out. It’s easy enough to get a taxi.”
“I insist.”
She gave a little shrug. “All right, thank you.”
He wanted to tell her there was no need to thank him, as he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Within ten minutes his car was brought around front and he helped Lena inside before rounding the car and getting in the driver seat.
“Where to?” He asked innocently, as if he didn’t already know where she lived.
“We’re just off the Boulevard, over on Clark Avenue.”
She only lived about fifteen minutes away. His whole life, he’d looked for his soulmate, searching crowds, wondering where she was, what she looked like, when they’d meet. And she lived fifteen minutes away? It gave him heartburn just thinking about it.
“Are ye coming back tomorrow?”
She smiled. “You’ve definitely captured my interest. I wouldn’t want to be in the way though.”
He grinned. “I’ll pick ye up at breakfast time. Does eight o’clock suit ye?”
She grinned, impish. “I’m not an early riser. How about nine-thirty?”
He soon parked the car in front of her grandmother’s shop and looked at the place with interest. There was a glowing sign at the top of a large window that read Psychic Readings, with a painted on drawing of a crystal ball underneath.
To one side, drawings of moons and stars, and on the lower left side, another glowing sign that blinked, Tarot Cards, with similar moons and stars encircling the words.
He was unsurprised to see the elemental symbols drawn into each corner of the glass.
He smiled at her. “One of these days I’ll have ye tell my future.”
She glanced away. “Ah … sure.”
Though he was already well aware of what his future would be, and it included this girl. Lena, every day of his life from here on out if he had anything to say about it.
He helped her out of the car, walked her to the door, and she pulled a key out of her purse.
“Well.” She took a breath. “That was an interesting first date.”
“First. I like the sound of that. The implication being there will be many more.”
She smiled up at him, and he wondered if it was too soon to try for a kiss. Nothing ventured nothing gained. He bent down, but she turned her head away at the last moment and he gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
Stifling his disappointment, he straightened. “Tomorrow morning at nine-thirty?”
She nodded. “I’ll see you then.”
He waited until she was inside, and then reluctantly made his way back to the car. He was tempted to just sit tight, and sleep in his car until she came outside again.
He watched as another light went on upstairs and decided he’d better get out of there before she decided he was a creeper. He started the car and pulled onto the street.
For his part, it was the best date he’d ever had. There was no doubt she was his soulmate. He still wasn’t sure what she was, they’d never had a chance to finish that conversation, but he could definitely sense she was something magical. She didn’t smell human, or at least not all the way.
But it didn’t matter, anyway. He would date her, win her, and eventually marry her. But he could take it slow so as not to scare her off.
Still, tomorrow morning could not come soon enough.
Chapter 14
Lena got ready for bed as quickly as she could, crawled beneath the covers, and lay in the darkness. She was glad her mother and grandmother had been asleep. And she’d ignored her sister’s three text messages saying to call at whatever time she got home and simply texted — Home safe. Going to bed. Talk tomorrow.
She didn’t really want to answer any questions about her date, because she just wasn’t sure what she’d say.
All three of them would have wanted to know what kept her out until one-thirty in the morning. She wasn’t prepared to answer that question.
Tonight had been … it had been … well, she wasn’t sure what it had been.
She’d once attended a murder mystery dinner in high school, and could say the experience had been sort of similar to that.
Dinner. Check. Murder mystery. Check. Big reveal — not so much. It sort of veered left at the last part. Oh, and this time a guy had actually been murdered.
She shuddered and pushed the thought to the back of her mind. Or tried to anyway. The fact that the guy had been dead, well, that was bad enough. But that he’d looked like a cross between a creature feature and a human, that’s what was still freaking her out.
Part way through the evening she’d decided the groom had been wearing a mask of some sort. Maybe they were having a masquerade wedding? She’d never really asked. She hadn’t really been in a place where she could ask what was happening. S
he just sat back, watched it unfold, and eventually let their paranormal references slide right off her.
Why had she even stayed?
Probably because she was one sick puppy, was interested in William, and also curious about finding out who’d killed the guy. Thing. Groom. Whatever.
She’d talk to her sister about it tomorrow. Her sister would let her know what was the matter with her. She had been filling that role for Lena ever since she had been born.
Her phone dinged. Certain it was her sister, she picked it up to read the message.
It wasn’t from her sister.
“I feel like saying tonight could have been better, but with you at my side, I’d be lying. I’m glad we finally met, and I cannot wait to see you until tomorrow morning at nine-thirty sharp.”
The word sharp made her laugh. She had no doubt that when she walked down the stairs and out the door tomorrow, William would be waiting.
The whole thing was crazy — the emotions flooding through her, the fact that she’d met him at all.
On impulse she typed in the website, Soulmated, and a pretty website popped up. Understated and elegant with a muted pink background and beautiful lettering that stated they’d find your mate.
Maybe they really did find soulmates. Who was she to question the professionals?
She closed the website and saved William’s contact information into her phone so the next time he texted, his name would pop up.
She considered writing back to him but finally settled on smiley face emojis and, good night.
She turned over and willed herself to go to sleep, but when the phone dinged again, she couldn’t resist looking at it once more.
“Sweet dreams, beautiful girl.”
Oh, my, stars. The guy was making her heart melt.
She quickly tapped in another, good night! resisted adding, my sweet prince, as a joke, and this time she turned her phone off. If she was going to spend the day with him tomorrow, she needed her beauty rest.
No need to disillusion the man this early in their relationship.
Chapter 15