Jermy, Marie - Together Forever [The Andersons 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Marie Jermy

  On both counts, Ross thought that was the understatement of the century. “What was Meathead’s unfinished business?”

  “I think we can safely presume it was you. You did shoot him up the ass before he—”

  Not wishing to be reminded of the reason why he shot Meathead, and certain Jessica didn’t either, Ross cut in. “At this moment in time, I believe in just about anything. So does the Federation deal with, you know, vampires? Werewolves?”

  Rafferty gave a cryptic smile. “The Federation has many branches.”

  Ross wondered which branch Sam Carrick operated from. He slid a sideways glance at Jessica. He sure as hell didn’t want to know, but did she? And though he didn’t want to ask about Carrick, it gnawed at his gut, refusing to be quelled. His mother had managed to bury Carrick, so why couldn’t he? He stared at Rafferty, who was now examining the SIM card from the damaged BlackBerry. Feeling Jessica fondling his ass, he turned to her. “Do you want to know about Carrick?” he mouthed.

  She smiled and mouthed back, “No.”

  “You say you’re temporary director of the Federation,” Ross continued. “Who did you replace?”

  “The senator, of course. This house is our HQ.” Rafferty looked up. “Or rather was our HQ. It ceased being that when he shot and killed his wife. Wonderful woman, Laura. Didn’t deserve to die.”

  The wistful tone wasn’t lost on Ross. Nor was it on Jessica, who immediately wondered whether Rafferty had been the “younger model” that Mrs. Williamson was going to leave her husband for. He met her questioning glance with a nod. Did you love her? she silently asked.

  “Still do.”

  Oh, boy, he did have mind-reading properties. “Is that how you knew we were here? Because it’s the Federation’s HQ?”

  A sly smile touched Rafferty’s lips. “No. The tracker I put in your Mini.”

  Jessica’s eyes widened with surprise. “What? When did you do that?”

  “The same night he left that photo on the windscreen,” Ross answered, the fog in his brain beginning to lift. “It was you who threatened Jessica’s life, wasn’t it?”

  “I wasn’t threatening her,” Rafferty corrected. “I was warning her.”

  Jessica sniffed. “Felt like a threat to me.”

  “Did it? Sorry.” Rifling through the desk drawers, Rafferty located an identical BlackBerry, swapped SIM cards and turned it on. While he checked through the various applications, he said to Ross, “That night in Jessica’s apartment I’d only just arrived when I heard you coming up the fire escape behind me. I dived under the bed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, Ross…I can call you Ross, can’t I?” Rafferty didn’t wait for an affirmative. “I wanted to know what you were up to. I was surprised you didn’t see me, but then you were more interested in reading Jessica’s mail.”

  “Um, Scott, I was just wondering…What’s on that phone that’s so important?” Rafferty’s head snapped up at Jessica’s question. “We couldn’t crack the password, so Ross and I decided to, um…Decided to…”

  “Strip wallpaper?” Rafferty offered with a smirk.

  “Well, it was stripping of some sort.” Jessica giggled. “So, what’s on the phone?”

  “A list of past and present Federation members, specifically police officers. Membership numbers included. And when I say past members, I mean deceased members.”

  “What’s your number?”

  “1875. But then you already know that, don’t you?” Jessica visibly recoiled from Rafferty’s penetrating stare, but Ross ignored it. The deep frown told him he was digesting everything and putting it together like a jigsaw puzzle. He focused on Jessica. “I’m being honest with you. The least you can do is be honest with me. Okay?” She nodded so he continued. “First of all, Harknett was involved with drugs, but because he was the senator’s senior and most trusted aide, he also knew about the Federation. What I don’t know is why he compiled that list. Good intent, it probably wasn’t. However, now that he’s been eliminated, it no longer matters.

  “Secondly, I know exactly who Sam Carrick is. He’s your half brother and Ross’s mother’s former partner and lover. Thirty years ago, while I was still in diapers, Carrick was a member of the Federation. However, while he was carrying out his regular active duties as a detective in the LAPD, he was shot and killed.

  “Having read his file, the Federation lost a good man. And in recognition of his services, the decision was made to delete his father’s—your father’s—rap sheet, amend his Bureau record and deposit over one million dollars into his bank account.”

  “That was you!” Jessica gasped.

  “Not me personally, no. The Federation.” Rafferty took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Do I detect regret that Carrick is dead?”

  “No. Well, maybe just a little. It’s my father I feel more for. He’d only just found Sam again when he was taken from him. I think— No, I know, if Dad could find a way to turn back time, he would.”

  He nodded. “I can understand that. I have a proposition for you, Jessica.”

  “What?”

  “I do enjoy my police career. I’d always wanted to be a detective. But all this transferring from precinct to precinct has become tiresome. I’m restless and need permanency. I want to throw all my efforts and energy into the role of Federation director. However, I still need a job. Like a guise, if you know what I mean.” He cracked his sharklike smile. “I’d make an excellent private investigator. And since Ross isn’t the only one to read your mail, in return for the use of the Magnum Investigations office as a new HQ, I’ll personally pay your debts.”

  Jessica’s eyebrows rose skyward with surprise. Just how much was Rafferty worth? Not that it mattered. “That’s a very generous offer, Scott, but like I told Ross, I’m handling my debts. I’m the one who accumulated them, and I’ll be the one to pay them.” She smiled and then added, “You’re more than welcome to make Magnum Investigations your new HQ, however. And you wanna be a PI? Go for it. I told Dad I was going to employ another investigator, even if it was a bit of a white lie at the time. The only thing is I can’t pay you much in terms of a salary.”

  “I don’t need one. The director’s salary is plenty.” Don’t ask, he telepathically told her.

  “I won’t,” she said on a shaky laugh. The only man’s voice she wanted to hear inside her head was Ross’s. “So, I take it the senator wanted the phone because he knew Sam was related to me?”

  “That, and the fact the Federation is a top-secret organization. Above the senator, the only person who knows about it is the president. And even he has only limited knowledge. It’s called plausible deniability. Anything else you want to know?”

  “Are all members police officers?”

  Rafferty shook his head. “No. As long as they believe, they can be of any vocation. One of our members is a chef. Equally adept with a Beretta as he is with a whisk. However, we don’t advertise. We approach you. Not that we’re recruiting,” he hastily added.

  “Hang on a minute,” Ross interjected when the fog in his brain completely lifted. He pinned Rafferty with an ice-cool stare. “Granted, I believe you when you say you know that Carrick’s my mother’s former partner and lover. But how do you know he’s Jessica’s half brother? And don’t give me that crap about it being on his file. Why would it be? Surely after his death, his file would have been closed. No, I’ll tell you how you knew. You’ve been here the whole goddamned time! Listening and watching.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Rafferty admitted. He rocked back in the chair and expelled a disgusted snort. “I wish I could walk through walls. Been a damned sight easier than climbing up the trellis at the back of the house. Spider-man, I’m not. That crash was me falling through a bedroom window and knocking a plant pot off the sill. I just had time to clear it up and hide before you two came investigating.”

  “Where were you? We checked every room. Every…” Ross trailed off when it occurred to him e
xactly where Rafferty had been. It had been the one place they hadn’t checked. The attic. He would have been amused if he wasn’t so pissed at Rafferty for waiting until the last possible moment to save his life. “I do appreciate you saving my life. No doubt if it weren’t for you, I’d be dust. But, and, apart from spying on us, just what the fuck have you been doing?”

  Again, Rafferty’s smile was cryptic. “Why, the same as you, Ross. The same as you.”

  * * * *

  Later, when Rafferty had left to make sure the rest of paranormal New York was behaving itself, Ross lay on his rug, Jessica exactly where he wanted her. By his side. In his arms. Behind them, a fire crackled in the stone hearth, throwing shadows across the walls and ceiling of the otherwise unlit living room.

  Everything was perfect, barring one thing. He reached for his backpack and removed the ring box from the pocket. He left the comfort of her embrace and got down on one knee before her. “Call me any name you want. Ross, Junior, Ace, moron, prick, hypocrite, or babe, I don’t care. I love you, Jess, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

  She gave him a coy smile. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Jessica,” he said in his most snotty voice, “will you marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  Ross whooped with delight and placed the ring on her finger.

  “It’s beautiful.” Jessica sighed as she wiggled her fingers, making the gems glint in the firelight.

  “As is the woman who’s wearing it.” He kissed the tip of her nose, gathered her in his arms again, and returned to their original position.

  They were silent for a few minutes, then Jessica asked, “Ross?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I know Scott never mentioned it, and you never asked, but will you be joining the Federation?”

  He snorted. “I have no intention of becoming a ghost buster, vampire slayer, or anything else for that matter. Tonight was just a one-off.” He looked down at her and immediately felt his cock stirring. Those amber flecks were glowing as hot as the fire. He ignored them for the time being. “I don’t get you sometimes. You turn me down flat when I express an interest in becoming a PI But with Rafferty, you bend over and practically kiss his ass.”

  “I did nothing of the sort!” She poked an equally indignant finger in his chest. “I’ll have you know, if any ass is to be kissed, it will be mine.”

  His eyes gleamed with playful teasing. “That can be arranged. Just say the word.”

  “Moron!”

  “Actually, I was thinking of the word please.” He laughed with her as he rolled them until he lay on his back and Jessica straddled him. Her hands flat on his chest, he slid his up to her upper arms and gently tugged her down. “Come here, gorgeous.”

  “Willingly,” she said, bumping noses with him. They tangled tongues, then with a contented sigh, she buried her face in his neck. The smell of him, the feel of him, particularly the hard length nestled at the apex of her thighs, reminded her of something. “Ross, what did Scott mean when he said he’d been doing the same as you?”

  Ross smirked. “Let’s just say he and Mrs. Williamson had some unfinished business.”

  Jessica lifted her head, her eyes widening with wonder. “He was making love? With a ghost? But how? I mean…” She trailed off and gave a slight shrug. “Oh, well, I guess that gives ‘together forever’ a whole new meaning.”

  “Hey, that’s our line!” Again, Ross rolled them, and once on top, he divested her of her top and blazed a trail of moist, openmouthed kisses down her neck and along the delicate curve of her collarbone. Her fingers laced through his hair and nudged him lower. He buried his face between her breasts, his tongue wetting the sheer fabric of her bra. His voice was muffled when he spoke.

  “Be straight with me, Jess. Are we really gonna be together forever?”

  Other than what sounded like an impatient grunt, her only response was to wrap her arms and legs around his body, holding him as if she never intended to let go. “That’s good enough for me.”

  And it was. For both of them.

  Epilogue

  Rafferty signaled to the leggy brunette standing at the bar then stared at the man across the table from him. A solitary tea-light candle in a glass holder, the only illumination in the leather-enclosed booth they sat in, flickered between them. The posture may have been calm, relaxed, but the gold flecks sparking within the blue eyes told a very different story. The man was pissed, and not through liquor, either.

  “You lied to me,” the man said.

  “I know. And I’m sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  “No, not really.” Without looking up, his attention never wavering from his compatriot’s face, Rafferty placed a handful of bills, plus a hefty tip, on the brunette’s tray when she placed two bottles of ice-cold beer on the placemats in front of them. There was no guessing where his compatriot’s attention was focused, though. Right on the brunette’s ass as she sashayed away. He rolled his eyes. “You’re a walking hormone, do you know that?”

  “You can talk,” the man replied, returning his full attention to Rafferty. “At least the women I screw are still breathing.”

  His eyes glittered. “That’s out of order, and—”

  “Out of order? I thought it was the truth. And speaking of the truth, Scott, why did you lie to me?”

  Rafferty took a long pull on his beer before replying. “Because I don’t like being interrupted.” A blank look was followed by a rumble of laughter that turned several heads at the bar. “Besides, Ross and Jessica had enough to contend with, without adding you.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not a ghost.”

  “To them you are,” he countered, quickly and brusquely. “And because of that, I not only lied to you, but for you.” He ignored the razor-sharp stare. “There’s an opening at the Brisbane office. Staker position. You’re the best man for the job. I’ll give you a glowing recommendation.”

  “Brisbane? As in Australia?” The man stroked his chin, clearly interested, before his eyes narrowed and he shot Rafferty another razor-sharp stare. “Why?”

  “I’m quitting the police force and turning private. And Magnum Investigations is going to be the Federation’s new HQ.”

  “What? Are you outta of your mind? Okay, so I’m a walking, talking corpse who’s seriously considering being the next Buffy. Without the tits, of course. But what happens when Anderson becomes a member and—”

  This time, Rafferty interrupted. “Ross is not joining the Federation.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “You didn’t even ask him, did you?”

  “No. Not likely to either.” He took another long pull on his beer, then set the bottle down and stared the man straight in the eye. “You can never come back, so let it go.”

  “I can’t. And I won’t.”

  His beer untouched, the man stood up, and Rafferty watched him walk away. Placing his hand on his right shoulder, the deep scores courtesy of one very nasty howling beast beginning to irritate him, he knew with certainty that Sam Carrick, his mentor, friend, and savior, would do what he damned well liked, and to the hell with the consequences.

  THE END

  WWW.BOOKSTRAND.COM/MARIE-JERMY

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Hmm, let’s see. Well, I was born on August 1, 1972, which makes me a Leo. So am I a lioness? Yes, although I only show my claws when provoked. I am married to Richard and have three children, collectively and affectionately known as “The A-Team,” so called because their first names start with an “A.” I would consider myself to be quite crafty, a trait inherited from my late father, and clever (well, I like to think so!). I also have a sarcastic, sometimes dirty sense of humor, and because of my time employed by the police, I am completely unshockable. When I’m not writing or looking after the kids, I can be found with my nose stuck between the pages of a romance novel or a book about the Titanic.

  Also
by Marie Jermy

  Siren Classic: Secret Eyes

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  BOOKSTRAND.COM

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com