by C. D. Hersh
Rhys went pale. What affected him so? Seeing Lila? Or watching someone shift? If he was lying about being a shifter it wouldn’t be the second thing. And he was living with Lila’s form. Why would that bother him? “You should be practicing shifting forms, too,” Delaney told him.
“I like the one I’ve got.”
She snorted. “I’ll bet that line doesn’t go over with Eli.”
After Rhys poured himself a cup of coffee, he sat at the table. “Nope. The old man is pushing me hard. If it wasn’t for you, sweetheart, I’d walk away from this whole Promised One business.”
He’d made that promise before. To Lila.
Setting down his coffee cup, Rhys gazed lovingly at Alexi.
Or Lila. Delaney was having a hard time keeping the two straight, especially with Rhys’ alleged infidelity with Lila looming.
“Are you sure this is what you want, sweetheart? It’s not too late to run away somewhere and live a normal life.”
Delaney’s heart nearly stopped. It’s not too late to run away somewhere and live a normal life. Those were the same words Lila’s shifter said to her. The same words she had written in her note. What were the chances of that happening?
Delaney scraped her chair back so fast it nearly tipped over. She needed proof of who this man really was, and fast.
“I just remembered something I need to do,” she said as she grabbed her purse. “I’ll talk to you later, Alexi.”
With a hasty good-bye to Rhys, she left, praying Alexi would not scan her aura as she ran off, because she knew it pulsed with fear.
Delaney showed Rhys’ picture to the doorman at Lila’s apartment.
“Sorry,” he said. “I haven’t seen him before. But if you think he was here, maybe it was before I got the job.”
“How long have you been here?” Delaney asked.
“About a month. I got the job because the old doorman didn’t come to work one day.”
“He quit?”
“Don’t know for sure, but the scuttlebutt is he just left. The wife came around searching for him after he’d gone. There’d been some gossip about him cheating. Everyone-including the wife-just thought he’d run off with another woman.”
The uniformed man leaned in closer, and she caught the scent of whiskey and wintergreen on his breath. Drinks before lunch? Could she trust what he said?
“I hope she was a rich bitch, because this ain’t a very good-paying job. Know what I mean?” He held out his hand surreptitiously.
Delaney dug in her purse for some bills, folded them, and laid them in his palm. Holding his wrist, she prevented him from pocketing the money. “A couple more things,” she said. “Keep this between you and me, and if you see the guy again let me know.” She took a business card from her pocket and handed it to him.
He whistled low. “FBI? This dude in trouble?”
“That’s need to know and you don’t. Call if you see him.”
“Sure thing.”
Delaney went to the apartment manager and got the address of the former doorman and paid a visit to his wife.
A young woman, with a screaming baby on her hip, answered the door of the apartment. Delaney flipped open her FBI badge. “Mrs. Forrester?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” The woman shoved the baby’s pacifier into its mouth, and the child quieted. “What do you want?”
“I’m Agent Ramsey, with the FBI. I understand your husband went missing about a month ago.”
Mrs. Forrester grabbed the doorjamb. “Oh, my God! Have you found him? I knew he hadn’t left me. Is he all right?”
Delaney’s heart went out to her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything about his whereabouts. I was hoping you might know where I could find him. I need him to identify someone for me.”
“Who?”
She removed the photo from her purse. “This man. I think your husband might have seen him at the apartment house where he worked as a doorman.”
Taking the paper, the woman stared at it for a minute. “I think I’ve seen him before. I don’t know his name though.” She handed the picture to Delaney. “I used to wait for Paul after work sometimes. We’ve only got one car and sometimes I need to use it. The night before Paul disappeared, I saw this man going into the apartment. Paul might have been able to tell you who he is because they had a conversation when the guy came down to the lobby.”
“Did everything seem okay when they were talking?”
“As far as I could see.” Mrs. Forrester’s eyes rounded. “You don’t think this man has anything to do with Paul’s disappearance, do you?”
Did it? Had this woman’s husband seen something he shouldn’t have? Was Rhys responsible for this disappearance as well? Delaney tried not to let her thoughts show. No need to raise this poor woman’s hopes.
“Probably not,” she said as she handed her a business card. “If you hear from your husband, please have him contact me. Or if you remember anything else, please call.”
The woman took the card and shoved it into her bra. “I hope someone finds him soon.”
“Did you file a missing persons’ report?”
“Yes. When they found out he’d been cheating on me, the police dropped the investigation. I guess runaway, cheating, husbands aren’t a priority for the cops.” She shifted the baby to her other hip. “Don’t suppose they would be, since they got paychecks. Me, I got welfare, squalling brats to feed, and no man to help. Life sucks.”
Delaney gave her a wan smile. “It does.” Not knowing about Lila was as sucky as it could get.
At the precinct Delaney asked Gladys to pull the missing persons’ reports for the last ninety days.
“This got anything to do with Rhys?” Gladys asked as she complied with the request. “Because if it does-”
“Relax,” Delaney told her. “There’s a John Doe in the morgue, and I want to see if there could be some connection. Isn’t this the sort of thing you all do here?”
Gladys harrumphed at her and finished gathering the reports. “I’ll send them to the printer in the captain’s office.”
“Thanks,” Delaney said and walked away.
By the time she got to the office, the reports were waiting. She flipped through the pages searching for information on Paul Forrester. Everything checked out like his wife said. She locked all the reports but Forrester’s in her desk and headed for the morgue.
“Any news on the body they found at Settler’s Landing?” she asked the coroner.
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
She handed him the missing person report. “Check this one out. I have a hunch.”
The coroner took the paper and read it. “He’s been missing about the right amount of time. His security job application might have some more helpful information.” He laid the paper on his desk. “How’d you discover this?”
“Woman’s intuition.” She started to leave, calling over her shoulder, “Let me know ASAP if you find anything.”
“I’ll notify the captain as soon I get something.”
“Notify me,” she said firmly, rotating toward him. “I’ll keep anyone else who needs to know in the loop.”
“The captain won’t like that.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, with a shrug. “Just do it.” She’d deal with the fallout later.
Chapter 17
“’Tis done,” Eli announced as he entered the kitchen. “Yer own mither and faither couldnae tell it wasnae ye in the coffin.”
Alexi shivered at his words, and Rhys reached over the table and grasped her hand. “You always this blunt, old man? Can’t you see how the image is affecting Lexi?”
“I’m sorry, lassie. ’Tis just that things seem tae be going verra well, at the moment. I guess I got carried away with th
e success o’ the plan.”
“There’s still the little matter of The Daughter of the Moonless Night,” Alexi said.
“Aye, ye’ve a point there. But if we’re verra careful, and I ken we’ve been sae far, we shouldnae havetae worry aboot her for long. She’ll believe ye dead and gone.”
“And come after Rhys like the furies,” Alexi added.
“Doesn’t matter how hard she tries, she won’t get anywhere with me,” Rhys said soothingly. “I promise. I’ll be a married man, after all.”
“Aboot that,” Eli said.
Rhys and Alexi stared, in tandem, at Eli. “I’ve a feeling we’re not going to like what you’re about to say,” Rhys said evenly. Alexi gripped his hand harder. “I am going to marry her. Know that, old man.”
“Aye, I’ve nae doubt in the matter. ’Tis the timing I’m questioning.”
Releasing his hand, Alexi rose from her seat, glaring menacingly at Eli. “You can’t stop us. I won’t let you.” She stood nose-to-nose with him.
“Ye canna do it right now, lassie. ’Twould leave a paper trail the killer could follow.”
“What?”
“Ye dinna plan tae marry him under a false name, do ye? If ye use yer own name ’twill be an easy matter tae trace.” He looked at Rhys. “And, laddie, if ye up and marry someone no one has ever heard of ’twill seem a bit odd. If ye marry her under her own name, how are ye going tae explain marriage tae a dead woman?”
Alexi’s shoulders slumped, and she stepped away from Eli. “He’s got a point, Rhys.”
“Not one I like either.” Rhys shoved his fingers through his hair. “If we can’t do it legally, we’ll make it binding by jumping the broom.”
“A handfasting,” Eli said. “An auld Celtic tradition. ’Tis a grand idea. As Keeper o’ the Stone I can officiate and when the year and a day ’tis over, ye can bind yerselves for eternity.”
“Year and a day?” Alexi echoed.
“Aye. ’Tis customary, and in yer case, because we dinna know how long ’twill take tae find yer would-be killer, ’tis expedient tae do sae.”
“When should we plan the ceremony?” Rhys asked.
“After the funeral. We dinna want those goings on tae spoil the festivities.”
“Is this okay with you?” he asked Alexi.
“Depends,” she replied. “How soon are we burying me?”
“I’ve set the funeral for the day after tomorrow. Delaney already knows and ’tis setting things intae motion at the precinct. Larch’ll have a complement o’ his men, shifters and non, at the burial site. We’ll nae be having a long viewing time, merely an open casket at the gravesite tae file by before we close it. The less time we give the rogues tae check out yer newly applied mask, the better ’twill be.”
“Sylvia will be there to check it out,” Alexi said. “Don’t doubt that for a minute.”
“Dinna worry, lassie. We’ll have plenty o’ protection for ye. Both o’ ye.”
She paled, and Rhys hastened to her side. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be right there beside you.”
“Both of me,” she said with a grimace. “I’m not sure about this, Eli. The thought of seeing myself, in a casket, gives me the creeps.”
Sympathy creased his forehead. “Aye, I ken what yer saying, but if ye dinna show up the captain ’tis bound tae suspect something. We set yer mimic as Alexi’s best friend, but I have a solution. Ye’ll stay in the car, claiming too much grief tae stand there and see her. ’Twill be the best way tae keep ye out o’ the rogue radar and mayhap satisfy the captain. If the rogues ken ye are shifted it could raise suspicions.”
“Won’t the funeral director’s men be shifted?” Rhys asked.
“Nae. In the paying o’ respects tae a dead shifter, one dinna come as another. ’Twould be disrespectful tae the deceased.”
Rhys snorted in disbelief. Honor among shifters? “Rogues play by those rules?” If so, they were better behaved than the crooks he’d dealt with.
“Do ye ken us tae be uncivilized mongrels, laddie?” Eli asked in a wounded voice.
“The rogues, yes.”
“There are rules in our world, and the respecting o’ the dead is one that isnae broken, even if they’ve died at yer hand.”
Seemed like a really stupid rule. Rhys shook his head. “But she’s not really dead. Aren’t we breaking those rules by making others believe she is?”
“Bending, laddie, nae breaking. Since they believe she ’tis dead, at the hands o’ one of their own, we willnae say different. When we’ve figured oot why they wanted our lassie gone, and who attempted tae do her in, we’ll bend the rule back intae place and deal with the fallout.”
“It was Sylvia, and it’s because she wants Rhys,” Alexi said with a sigh as she looped her arm through Rhys’.
“Mayhap,” Eli said. “But I dinna want tae go after the wrong shifter. Unlike the rogues, I need evidence afore I make a move. And ye, laddie, need tae do the same.”
“Why are you saying that?” Rhys asked.
“Because I ken what’s in yer hirt.”
He tried to put on his best poker face. “I’m a cop, old man. What makes you think I don’t need evidence?”
“Yer a man in love, and a man in love will go through the auger hole tae get what he needs. And ye need tae protect her.”
Eli was right. He needed to learn how to block the old man’s insight into his heart. Especially if he had to do something Eli wouldn’t. If he did, he didn’t want to drag anyone else down.
Chapter 18
“Alexi Jordan’s funeral is in two days at Riverside Cemetery at ten a.m.,” Sylvia told Falhman. “You’ll have your photo of Alexi in her casket as soon as I can download and send it to you.”
“Bring it to me in person. We’ll talk more about the bar deal when you get here.”
The line went dead. Sylvia dialed Roc. “I’ve got a job for you.”
“Horizontal or vertical?” he asked, a hint of seduction in his voice.
She ignored the ripple of want his tone sent through her. “Vertical. I need a gravedigger.”
A choked sound came over the line. “Who’d you kill, Sylvia?”
“None of your business.”
“If you’re asking me to bury the evidence it’s my business.”
“Remember your look-alike I told you about?”
“Yes.” His reply seemed hesitant. “Did you get rid of him?”
“No. We need him to take Falhman down. He’s going to be at a funeral in two days, and I want you to pose as a gravedigger so you can see him.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to point him out on the street?”
“Too risky. He might see your aura and make you as a shifter.”
“He won’t in the cemetery?”
“There will be lots of people around, other shifters, if I’m not mistaken. That’s a lot of auric power for someone as new to it as he is to handle. Besides, you’ll be standing far enough away he, or the other shifters, shouldn’t be able to sense you. I’ve thought about this a lot and think it’s the best way for you to see him.”
“I am curious about this guy. Where and what time?”
“Riverside Cemetery. Ten a.m. Don’t be alarmed if you see a lot of cops there. The deceased was a homicide detective.”
“You’re going to the funeral? What’s the connection?”
“Nothing you need to concern yourself about, at least not yet.”
“Will I see you before then?”
She thought she heard a little yearning in his voice. That pleased her. “No. I’m going to be busy until then. We’ll meet afterward.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Do you mean you’re ready to try again?”
�
�Uh-huh.”
The answer sent a spiral of desire curling in her stomach. Ever since they had mind shifted, Roc had been distant, almost afraid to touch her. She needed physical contact to bind him to her. Desire grew, shooting low in her belly, as she thought about their last time together. Who was she kidding? She needed him for her own satisfaction.