“I am in a good mood. Bishop came home, she’s going to marry me, and I don’t have a Jack Daniels hangover.”
“What’s a hangover feel like?” Avalon asked.
“Shitty,” Maura replied. “That’s all you really need to know about it.”
Avalon laughed. “Thanks, Mom.”
Maura ignored her even when Jagger began snickering because he’d just said the same thing. Those two needed a mother, and it looked like it was her job.
“Where are Nate and Luke?” he asked, grabbing eggs from his giant refrigerator.”
“Warrant,” Maura said.
“Great. I think Bishop plans on working from her office today,” he stated.
“She’s still in danger.”
They all looked over at Avalon.
“You didn’t undo what’s coming.”
He stared at her. “I didn’t? What do you mean?” he asked, putting the eggs down onto the counter. “I got her to come back. Isn’t that what you said to do?”
He began getting worried.
“I told you that it’s not easy to undo fate once you change it. She’s in danger. In fact, so are you.”
He didn’t give a shit about himself.
Bishop mattered.
“I’ll keep her here where no one can hurt her.”
“Yeah, no you won’t,” she said from the doorway.
When he heard her voice, he glanced over at her. She was standing there in his t-shirt, and it made his heart skip.
“Baby.”
Bishop wandered into the kitchen, and Maura immediately handed her a cup of coffee.
Now this is what a hangover looked like.
“Take notes, Avalon,” she said, cuing the woman in. Maura could tell Avalon was using Lucian’s eyes to check the woman out.
“Ouch.”
Yeah, Avalon could say that again. Bishop wanted to puke. “My head feels like it’s going to explode, I feel like I went about ten rounds with Tyson, and I’m not hiding in your house.”
“Our house,” he corrected.
She smiled at him. “Okay, I’ll give you that one, but the other two stand as is.”
“Baby, if you stay here, I’ll hang out with you.”
She took the coffee and sat down. “I have to go into work. I have to find Silas and kick his ass, Nate and Luke are serving the warrant, and I already checked—Wendy was bailed out last night. That’s the potential for some sort of unrest. She’s going to be gunning for me here or at work, but at least there I don’t look like I’m hiding.”
Great.
His day was deteriorating, and fast.
“Bishop.”
“I tell you what, Lucian. Since, despite my appearance, I’m in a good mood, I’ll meet you half way. You said you wanted to work on the case, regarding the day you nearly died, so why don’t you come with me? Together, we can work from my office, but I can’t hide. That’s telling the killer that he’s got me running scared.”
“You should be scared,” he said.
The team took that as their sign it was time to go. They vacated, and fast.
It left Lucian and Bishop to finish their conversation.
“I don’t like this. We’re safe here. Nothing can get us behind Graymoor’s gate, and I kinda would like to have a fiancée longer than a day, if you know what I mean.”
She moved toward him. “When we get married, did you think I was quitting my job?”
“I thought maybe you would, since we’re going to start a family. It’s not as if you would need to work. I’ve made enough money to support us, plus with Graymoor…”
“Lucian.”
Her tone said it all.
He was dangerously close to crossing some line.
Lucian got it. His fiancée was warning him that he needed to tread lightly here. It was a short jump from beast to caveman. There was no doubt she’d kick his ass.
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “You’re right. We’re not hiding. I’m trying, Bishop. I swear to God that I’m trying.”
She knew he was.
“I love you, babe.”
He opened his arms, and she went into them. The second he was against her, there was peace.
“Okay, we work from your office, but that’s it.”
She’d toss him a bone. Taking total control away from a man like Lucian Monroe would be a disaster. She wanted him to return to the man he used to be, so she had to accept everything about him, even if he was going to be possessive, bossy, and in charge.
“I have no idea where my truck is, so I’m not sure how I’m even getting to work.”
“Jagger had it brought to the parking lot at your office and courthouse. I can get you to work.”
“How?” she asked. “Do you even have a car?”
“There’s a garage behind the house, so yes, I have a car, but I was thinking something a little more fun.”
“Like?” she asked.
He grinned. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
Then he kissed her.
Suddenly, he wasn’t really in the mood to make breakfast. She was against his body, and he was pretty sure there was nothing on beneath his oversized shirt.
“Maybe we can skip the breakfast that I was going to make, and instead, we can grab something to eat on the way to work?” he asked, running his lips across her ear.
“I might be interested in something like that,” she offered, stroking him through his jeans.
“Oh, Bishop, I can’t wait to get you naked. There’s something sexy about you standing here barefoot in our kitchen. It makes my brain do cartwheels.”
“It’s probably the Jack.”
No, it was definitely her.
“I think it’s you. A naked you is a thing of beauty, baby. I can’t wait to steal my t-shirt back.”
“Really? I can’t wait to be naked.”
He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips.
“You better hurry,” she offered, right before she bit his bottom lip.
Oh, he could hurry…
If that’s what she really wanted.
* * * O R A C L E * * *
Wendy Lockwood’s
Home
When they got there, the sheriff’s deputies were waiting. Alonzo Garcia looked like hell, since he’d been up all night, but that didn’t stop him from pulling a double to make sure the sheriff had backup.
Beside him was Reno Upton, holding the warrant for the Feds.
“Mayor Reed wants an update today,” Reno offered. “He was at work before dawn.”
Yeah, it was on Nate’s list of things to do now that the sheriff was down for the day.
“Thanks,” Nate said, pulling on his gear at the truck. Since they knew that Wendy was already out, she was likely to attack with those maniacal claws of hers, or worse…scissors.
They wanted to be ready for just about anything.
As they approached the house, they were scanning for anything that looked out of place.
The blinds on the big mansion were closed, so the woman was likely still asleep.
They’d give her the benefit of the doubt, especially since the media was filming from the street.
Nate knocked.
Nothing.
The team split up. He took the front of the house, and Luke took the back. It would be easier if they split up, in case Wendy freaked out, or tried to run.
From the com in his ear, Nate could hear Luke talking to him. When he heard it, he knew.
“Uh oh.”
“What?” Nate asked.
“We have an issue. I need you to get back here, and fast. It’s beyond issue. It’s now at problem.”
He motioned to the one deputy to stand down and the other to follow him. When he found Luke, he’d had to jump a fence to get to the backyard.
“What?”
“I found bloody footprints on the way out of the house. Check out the concrete.”
Nate did.
They w
eren’t fresh. They looked to be there for a couple of hours. The blood had gone from that bright red color to the oxidized brown.
This didn’t look good.
Blood was always the precursor to something no one wanted to deal with, but here it came—whether they liked it or not.
“We’ll go in through the back door,” he said, not wanting to give the media a show. Quietly, they checked the locks.
The door wasn’t secured.
Yeah, this was bad.
“Deputy Garcia, you have the back door. Don’t let anyone in or out without our permission.”
“On it,” he replied, taking his position by the door.
Nathaniel Carter knew the killer was likely long gone, but it was better safe than sorry.
Luke and Nate got ready.
They moved into their customary positions, Luke turning his hat backward as they prepared to go into Wendy’s home. He was going to take lead, and then stay low.
Nate would have his back, and high.
When they opened the door, the smell of death didn’t assault them. That shocked them both. Honestly, they were assuming it was going to be a full on bloodbath.
If there were footprints, there had to be blood somewhere. That was generally how it worked.
As they moved through the all white house, it didn’t take them long to clear the place and find where the blood had emanated from inside.
There was a door.
Where it led, neither knew.
Whatever the source of the blood, it was from that room. From the bloody prints in front of it, there was proof that someone had walked through blood. Not to mention, the smell was definitely distinctive.
Luke got down and put his ear next to the door. He didn’t hear anything. Glancing back at his partner, he shook his head.
Nate called for the woman. “Wendy Lockwood! We have a warrant. We also found blood. We’re coming in.”
Nothing.
Yeah, this was getting more and more ominous.
It was time.
Nate turned the knob and they went in—guns up and prepared for the worst.
Only Wendy wasn’t going to put up a fight. That wasn’t ever happening again. What the two Feds found was probably the worst thing they’d ever seen in their lives.
There was Wendy Lockwood, and she was actually pinned to the hood of her fancy car with screwdrivers through her flesh. Whoever did that to her had fun. Her face was pummeled, and he’d cut her apart.
Luke shook his head. “She spilled her guts.”
Nate looked over at him, and then the woman on the hood. “That’s not even funny.”
Luke pointed at the wall facing her. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. They were his words, not mine.”
Nate glanced in the direction his partner was motioning. That’s when he saw it.
‘Five of Seven. She spilled her guts.’
Yeah, that was bad.
The worst part?
They didn’t know who the hell number four was. The killer had either miscounted his victims or…
Yeah, someone else was dead.
And they’d yet to find the body...
* * * O R A C L E * * *
When he rolled his motorcycle out of the garage, she simply stared at it.
He had to be kidding.
Lucian must have hit his head.
She couldn’t believe this was his preferred mode of transportation. Ironically enough, he had a few to choose from for their ride.
When he stared at her, holding a helmet in his hand, she didn’t have the heart to say no. He was genuinely smiling, and it lit up his face.
Crap!
It looked like she was taking a ride on his bike.
But first…
She did ask to see his license and registration.
He laughed.
Then she snickered at the look on his face when he realized that she wasn’t joking.
Once he proved that he did have a license to drive the chromed-out death machine, she let him talk her into it. Besides, he was smiling like a kid in a candy store, trying to impress the girl.
If he didn’t kill her, she was going to be damn impressed. As a cop, she’d scraped idiots off the roadways when a motorcycle met gravel. This was a leap of faith, and she hoped he appreciated it.
When he hopped on, making room for her, she did what any good fiancée would do. She held on, closed her eyes, and prayed he wasn’t criminally insane—which was a moot point because it was crystal clear she was the nutty one for even considering doing it.
When the bike roared to life, he patted her hands on his abs. That one motion helped ease the tension.
This was Lucian.
He’d keep her safe.
As she tucked her body against his back, he drove them down the driveway and right toward the gate.
Obviously, he had a remote because when they approached, the gate began opening. It stopped with just enough room for them to blow through, past the media, the onlookers, and the cameras.
Yeah, she was going to hear about this when Silas saw the news. Then again, the man had nearly cost her Lucian. She’d tell him off if he even made a peep.
Enough was enough.
As they drove toward the city, Bishop relaxed. From behind her helmet, she watched the trees go by, the houses, and it was peaceful.
Maybe she needed this.
Lucian seemed at ease too.
His body was lax, even though he had to know what was coming when they arrived. The media was following them, much like a pack of dogs.
Yeah, this was going to get old. She wasn’t marrying a superstar. She was marrying Lucian Monroe.
What the hell was the big deal?
As they pulled into the city, he drove through the coffee shop drive-thru.
She thought he was insane when he handed her both cups and told her not to spill them.
Well, she’d teach him. Bishop was holding them right above the family jewels as her arms were around his waist. One crazy move, and someone would be singing a different tune.
He laughed the entire time, already knowing what she was thinking. It was that connection that they had that made both of them know what they were doing was right.
Only a crazy person got engaged after a night of sex, on the news, and without even asking the girl.
Since it appeared that they were both insane, Bishop and Lucian were clearly made for each other.
When he pulled into a parking spot at the courthouse, the one right beside her truck, he was feeling pretty damn happy. It was odd coming back to the place that had once ruled his life. The big stone building sat beside the sheriff’s station, and he’d never thought he’d be this happy.
But he was, and on such a deep level.
He had Bishop.
That’s all that mattered in life.
As she got off, still holding the coffees in her hands, he wanted to kiss her silly. She looked really sexy in her jeans, a riding jacket, and helmet. Her gun sat on her hip, and he was thinking that later they could take turns trying out her handcuffs.
Before he could say anything, her body language changed. He knew who was coming.
When he turned, Silas was heading their way. There was the telltale clopping sound of his cane hitting the ground.
He didn’t look happy.
Great.
There went Lucian’s good mood. He really hoped the man didn’t try to break them apart—again. He wasn’t going to be so magnanimous the second time.
Lucian was marrying Bishop—whether Silas liked it or not. His mind was made up.
Before he could say anything, Lucian noticed that Bishop had rested the two coffees on the bike’s seat and was pulling off her helmet.
The second Silas had confirmation it was her, he pointed at Bishop. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked, getting angrier by the minute.
Lucian pulled off his helmet and slipped on his eyepatch. “She’s coming to work.”
Bishop relaxed. “Pops, take a chill pill. I’m going to my office. Lucian and I are going to work some files, and maybe, if I feel wild and crazy, I’ll head to the morgue to check on our victim from last night.”
He lowered his voice. “Bishop, the Feds pulled another body. This is going to get ugly.”
She didn’t get it.
Why did he keep looking at Lucian? She hoped he wasn’t trying to insinuate that…
She’d lose her mind.
“Mr. Monroe! Mr. Monroe!” a reporter shouted. “Can you tell us what you think about the news that Wendy Lockwood was murdered last night?”
It was a punch to the gut.
It was clearly written on his face—not because he had feelings for her, but because he already knew where the next round of questioning was going to be focused.
On him.
“Where were you, Mr. Monroe?” another shouted.
“Will the sheriff be your alibi, or are you going in for official questioning?” someone asked.
“Will your relationship with the sheriff exclude you from the suspect list?” someone else inquired.
He wanted to be sick.
Lucian didn’t have to look over at Bishop to tell she had tensed over the questioning.
This was all his fault.
Once more, even in death, Wendy was making his life a living hell. He glanced over at Bishop, and there was only one thing he could say.
“I’m sorry.”
And he really was.
This was one hell of a mess.
* * * O R A C L E * * *
The killer was amused. He saw on the news how the body of Wendy Lockwood was found, and he couldn’t be more pleased.
She was dead, the people who deserved to die were on their way out, and there were only two more who had to go.
Oracle Seeing (The Phoenix Files Book 2) Page 37