All Nash did was raise his eyebrows. Then he held up the folder. “After my little chat with Danny-boy, I got a call from the FBI. They’re still working on the corpses, but cause of death came back. Oh, plus the toxicology screening from HS Labs came through just a minute ago.”
“When did you sleep?” Jonas asked him.
Nash shook his head. “Coffee, man. Lots and lots of it.”
He opened the folder and pulled out some pictures and laid them on the tabletop. To say they were awful was an understatement. They were photos of the girls on the medical examiner’s table, but any resemblance to human beings had been eaten away. The first one was so decomposed that it was mainly the skeleton, though parts of muscle and tissue remained. Especially around the face.
“This is making me rethink my breakfast,” Charlotte said and turned her face away.
“There was a concoction of drugs present in each tissue sample,” Nash reported. “But as we suspected, nothing unusual or unexpected. Cause of death for Janie is undetermined, but the other girls were strangled. Their hyoid bones were crushed. Lime had been used on all of them, probably to discourage predators digging them up. Time, elements, and the alkaline substance made any foreign DNA unobtainable in the vaginal tract.”
Jonas reached out and turned the top photo over. Charlotte took a deep breath and returned, looking at Nash. His eyes hadn’t left her face.
“In other words,” Charlotte said softly, “no direct link back to a sex club.”
“Exactly. And I’d bet all the tea in China that there won’t be any clues on the others, either, just like you said. A person who does this is careful.”
“Especially with television shows teaching how to hide evidence,” Melody quipped.
Charlotte rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands and sat for a moment in the darkness while her thoughts tumbled around in her head. The report or the analysis of it wasn’t surprising. In fact, she had just told Holly the same thing earlier. And had she been the same person before solving Zach’s case, she would have easily walked away, but not now. Her newfound sense of responsibility wouldn’t let her.
Crap.
When she pulled her hands away and looked at Jonas, he was staring at her with understanding eyes. Nash, however, held fire in his. She took a deep breath.
“All right,” she murmured.
Nash’s body abruptly relaxed.
“Can I talk to you outside?” Jonas asked him with a voice that sounded as if he were barely containing his anger
Nash nodded and followed after Jonas, who walked outside the door.
* * * *
“What are you trying to do?” he demanded, turning and staring at Nash, practically nose to nose.
“Working a case.”
“By bringing Charlotte to investigate a club who we know has at least one member that’s a deranged psychopath?”
“I’m not saying get all involved, but this is an opportunity that’s rare.”
“To whom?”
“To the families, Jonas. Three girls are dead, and we have a way of finding out, possibly, where they died.”
Jonas turned away and sighed, running his one free hand through his dark hair. Yes. The case. The one he’s not working. Again, Charlotte seems to be in the thick of things, and now Nash McKnight is barking up her tree. “I don’t like this.”
“I know.”
As he turned back to look at Nash, Jonas tried to think logically. The word share really hit him in the solar plexus, and jealousy clawed at his gut. Still, he trusted Charlotte.
Don’t I?
“You once asked me to protect her,” he finally said. “I’m going to ask the same to you.”
“Of course. I’d protect her with my life.”
Jonas nodded. “And how long have you loved her?”
Nash shifted feet, suddenly uncomfortable. He ran a hand over the back of his neck and gave a rueful snort. “I don’t see where that’s relevant.”
“It’s relevant to me.”
The two men eyed each other in what could have been a battle of testosterone, but somehow being in love with the same woman just made them seem like equals. Jonas couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that tonight he would have to make a crucial decision about this situation.
“About five minutes after I met her.”
Jonas snorted. “Yeah. That’s about right. So why did you fuck it up?”
Nash shrugged. “I had something that blindsided me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. Unfortunately, I took it out on Charlotte.”
When Nash eventually got around to explaining things, would she forgive him? Ice suddenly gripped Jonas’s heart as he pictured Charlotte leaving him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.
“Just promise me one thing,” he rasped out.
Nash tensed, and he gave a tentative nod of agreement.
“You don’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
“Of course. That goes without saying.”
“Still, I’m saying it.”
“You have my word,” Nash said softly.
For now, that was all Jonas could ask. He gave Nash a nod and then opened the door to walk back into the restaurant.
Chapter Nine
She thought that she would be back in the nightclub, maybe even the sex club. But instead, Charlotte thought she had to be in a bedroom, though calling it such was a stretch. The room had a mattress on the floor with a loan pillow, and an extremely beat-up dresser with a broken mirror had been pushed into the corner. Clothes lay in a heap on the floor, making her wonder why there was even a dresser at all. But perhaps the bigger question was why she stood in the dilapidated room to begin with.
A second later, her unasked musing was answered as the door burst open and Janie rushed in, holding Candace’s hand. The two girls slammed the door behind them then hurried to the mattress. Janie produced a lighter and a plastic bag filled with white powder, while Candace pulled a syringe and spoon out of her pocket. Charlotte had to wince as she watched the two girls proceed to get bombed out of their minds, passing the needle back and forth between them.
The scene abruptly changed, though the room did not. Charlotte still watched from her safe little corner, but this time Candace looked drawn and haggard. She stood alone in the room, holding a teddy bear. Her own clothes were grimy, her hair matted and in desperate need of a wash.
She turned to look at Charlotte, tears shining in her eyes. She held out the bear, but Charlotte didn’t try to take it. She was only here in spirit, although the spirit in front of her was urging her to do something.
It kind of pissed Charlotte off. Why couldn’t the spirits ever be direct? Hold up a map and point or write out the words So-and-so killed me. It would be so much easier and save her a slight headache. But no, it was never easy, and so she resigned herself to solving a puzzle in which all the pieces didn’t quite fit.
Finally, the dance club appeared, the same as before, dark, swank, and packed to the gills with people. Honestly, the place was a fire code violation with a capital V. She couldn’t hear the music, of course, but she didn’t need to, not when a sexual bonanza gyrated around her. Beautiful girls, handsome men, it seemed like a scene taken from a porno movie set. Not that she knew what a porno movie set actually looked like. One could only guess.
Even amidst the bodies, she spotted Candace, but this time the young woman looked completely different. She looked rested and healthy. Her hair had been washed and styled. She wore a dress shorter than Daisy Duke shorts, and Charlotte swore she saw a flash of butt cheek peeking out. Around her throat was a necklace with the name Candace scrolled in cursive, the same necklace Charlotte currently held in her hand.
Candace wasn’t dancing. She had her eyes trained solely on the bartender, Danny McCoin. She quickly looked down at a small notebook in her hand, as if checking something, before she slipped the notebook into her clutch bag. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, a
nd walked toward the bar. Charlotte saw a transformation come over her features. Candace smiled widely, losing the steel-eyed determination and replacing the stubborn tilt of her chin with a flirtatious flip of her hair, which immediately caught Danny’s attention.
Well, well, well. This was interesting, Charlotte thought. Some of the puzzle was actually starting to form a bigger picture, one that wasn’t quite so cut-and-dry as three girls going missing. Candace had known Janie, and it seemed like she had gone in search of her friend. She hadn’t been Danny’s girlfriend after all, even though Danny believed she was in love with him. The poor sap had been on her radar, detailed in a little black book that had resided in her clutch bag.
Had Candace figured it all out?
Had she written down the killer’s name?
Did he destroy it, or was it missing?
As she watched Candace flirt with Danny, it occurred to Charlotte that finding that little book would be mighty interesting, as well being awfully dangerous. Still, finding a killer pretty much trumped any perilous scenario.
Then again, she did have to work with Nash McKnight.
As the vision died away, Charlotte opened her eyes, blinking so they adjusted to the near darkness of her hotel room. She’d wanted to be alone when she channeled the necklace, for no other reason than she needing breathing space. Tonight was going to be hell on her self-control, and that scared her big time.
She ignored the little voice asking her if she couldn’t handle alone time with Nash without wanting to jump his bones, then what did that mean about her love for Jonas?
* * * *
“You can’t ignore me all night. We’re supposed to be a loving couple.”
Charlotte wanted to roll her eyes but knew the gesture would be lost in the darkened car. They had left the town of Rock Ridge, heading north and east after Danny had called Nash with the directions to the club. She had shared her vision with the others and then went to her room. For the rest of the afternoon she had sat on pins and needles, hoping that Danny had either forgotten about the invite or had been unable to obtain a get-in-free pass. But the temporary reprieve had dissolved like a snail in salt when the call came through.
Now her imagination was working overtime as she pictured what a sex club actually was, creating all types of derogatory and evil tortures devices that in no way was she experimenting on. She may have a kinky side, but it did not include pain.
“The job description did not say I had to be loving.”
“Come on. Who else would be in a three-way relationship?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Um, confused people? Who do ya think?”
“People in love.”
She stared at him, her mouth falling open in surprise. The dash light illuminated his features, turning his already strong profile into sculptured marble. Against her will, her breath hitched in her throat, and an ache began to throb between her thighs. She ignored both. “I didn’t think the L-word crossed that cavernous expanse between your ears.”
“Must we start this evening with the snarky comments?”
“What, no retort?”
“Seems to me you’d want to talk about what’s going to be acceptable tonight.”
“First of all, nothing about this night is acceptable. Second, I’m not into pain or having you put your hands on my unmentionables.”
“We’re here because of your unmentionables, Charlotte. This is a sex club. S-E-X. Female, male, grinding, sweating, loving—”
“Okay! I get it!” she interrupted, a touch of exasperation leaking out. “But humping is not acceptable!”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“You’re going to have to trust me, Charlotte. We’re not going to be believable if you keep me at arm’s length and fight with me every step of the way.”
She huffed, but she knew he was right, and it galled her so much admitting to that. “Obviously I’d lose in an arm-wrestling match but…you have a point.”
“Quit with the muscle jokes. I happen to like working out.”
“Obviously.”
He flashed a disarmingly lopsided grin.
For a moment, Charlotte forgot to breathe. Just when she’d decided that Nash was irredeemably arrogant, he had to go and smile at her like that. It was one of those boyish grins, the kind that melted female hearts within a ten-mile radius. She had thought she was immune to his rakish charm, but apparently she wasn’t. Her chest was tingling, her stomach was flipping, and her knees felt like melted candle wax.
Good thing she was sitting.
Her mouth was a bit dry. She wished she had some water.
They continued on in silence, again, for a few more minutes, but this time it wasn’t because she was trying to imagine him sitting in one of the circles of hell. Was it eight or nine? She’d read Dante’s Inferno in high school because she’d had to and thought it was nine, but Jonas would definitely know.
“So how are you and Jonas doing?”
Charlotte startled a bit, from both hearing Jonas’s name spoken aloud just as she was thinking of him, and from being jolted from her thoughts.
“Great,” she answered. “We’re…great.”
“Well, that’s…great.”
A few more minutes passed, but this time she felt on edge with the silence, so she asked, “Are you dating anyone?”
“No, no I’m not.”
“Oh. That’s…not great.”
Even in the dim light she saw his lips quirk into an amused half smile. “Yeah. Should we talk about the weather now?”
“I don’t think that discussion will last long. You being in Seattle, if the day ends in Y, it’s going to rain. Me in Santa Fe, if the day ends in Y, it’s not.” She did an imaginary check mark with her finger in the air. “Next subject?”
“Do you follow baseball?”
“No. I couldn’t tell you the Lakers from the Saints.”
“Those teams aren’t…never mind.”
Silence fell between them again. Charlotte tried to tell herself to let the lull between them to grow because Nash McKnight was the last man she wanted to talk to. But once again, like the first time she had set eyes on him, she felt herself betraying the common sense banging inside her head.
“Does Nash stand for anything?”
He let out a long-suffering sigh. “It stands for Nashville.”
“Are you kidding?” she asked on an amused note.
“Next subject?”
It took her a moment to compose herself. And then it suddenly dawned on her. This was the perfect opportunity to get answers.
“I know what we can talk about,” she said, ignoring the little voice shouting at her to shut up. This man had broken her heart, but like a moth to a flame she just couldn’t seem to stay away.
He looked at her suspiciously. “What?”
“What happened to you in Santa Fe?”
He didn’t answer right away, and she half expected him to change the subject. After all, what could he say? When Holly had told her she wanted Charlotte to meet Nash, the last thing she had expected was to actually like her blind date. After all, Holly had found Charlotte’s prom date during senior year, and it had been their cousin Ritchie. She’d been so embarrassed she had refused to take any pictures.
So when Holly had called saying Nash was absolutely perfect for her, Charlotte had had her doubts. Yet somehow her manipulative sister had convinced her to meet him one time, and so she’d been very surprised to see how handsome Agent McKnight was, as well as polite. He had stood while she approached, had pulled out her chair. Dinner had gone by in a whirl as they talked about everything. Conversation had been easy as they learned each other’s likes and dislikes. He had told her that when he wasn’t working, he was usually at the gym or teaching Tae Kwon Do, and she had plucked up the nerve to reveal that she liked to write poetry.
The night had ended with a panty-wetting kiss that made her almost abandon the vow to never have sex with someon
e on the first date. He had captured her face between his hands and slowly lowered his face toward hers, maintaining eye contact as long as possible, giving her every chance to say no or pull back. But she hadn’t, and when his lips had met hers, she’d felt as if the stars had suddenly exploded with color. This had been the kiss she’d waited her whole life for, a kiss she felt all the way to her heart. He pulled her into the hard muscles of his body, and she’d felt safe and cherished.
But the very next day, when they had met for lunch, she noticed his withdrawal. He had been sullen and quiet, and hadn’t really focused on her at all. They hadn’t kissed after that date. She’d chalked it up as stress or job issues and emailed him for another date because she didn’t want to lose that man she had first met, the one who had been kind and funny and passionate.
For two weeks it had been her initiating the dates. And each time they had gotten together, Nash’s distance had grown progressively colder, his comments more biting, until she couldn’t remember what she had seen in him to begin with. The last time she had seen him, they happened to meet in front of a coffee shop, accidentally since she had already made up her mind never to call him again.
“Well, well, well,” he had drawled in a mocking tone. “If it isn’t the ghost whisperer.”
“Shh,” she said as she glanced around. “How did you know about that?”
He raised his eyebrow with a sardonic look. “After the way we met, doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”
She pursed her lips. “I don’t think we should see each other again.”
“And yet you’re the one always calling me. It’s like a fungus I can’t get rid of.”
She took a step to the side in an effort to bypass him, but he mimicked her movement and blocked her escape.
“Move out of my way,” she ordered.
“Don’t call me again,” he ordered harshly.
“Don’t worry.”
When she made to move around him the second time, he didn’t stall her. His words echoed painfully in her ears.
It had taken her almost six months to get over him and probably another to feel as if she could start dating again. Jonas hadn’t been a rebound. He had been a salve to her open wound. He had finished the healing inflicted from Nash’s nastiness, but it wasn’t gratitude she felt for Jonas. He made her tingle all over, just in a different way than Nash made her feel.
Hereafter [McKnight, Perth & Daire 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 7