Kiss of Souls

by Morgan Kelley

  His anger abated.

  “What happened, honey?”

  She continued, “I was being blackmailed for paying off a council member to make sure I sponsored all the floats in the parade. I made a lot of money when they all bought their flowers here.”

  “How much is ‘a lot’?” Callen asked, trying to figure out if it was worth killing over.

  “I paid her half of the money I made on the flower sales,” Alberta stated.

  “And that was?” Callen asked again.

  “Three thousand dollars in one lump sum.”

  “What? Alberta!” Clarence blurted. “I can’t believe you’d do that!”

  Callen continued to make notes, but he let the two talk it out. You could learn a lot by listening, and that was his plan.

  “What you did was so illegal, Alberta!”

  She was aware.

  “I couldn’t help it, Clarence. You wanted to expand, and I had to find a way to make you happy. That was the way. I didn’t want you having to do deliveries. I wanted you to be able to stay here and help me.”

  He sighed. “Baby.”

  “I’m so sorry!” she whispered, as he hugged her to his body to comfort her.

  It was time for them to ask the hard questions.

  “When did Shelby approach you?” Julian asked. “I’m going to assume she didn’t call you. Your number didn’t turn up on Shelby’s phone.”

  “She didn’t call. She came in. It was a random day, and I was here making up bouquets while Clarence was out doing deliveries. She strolled right in, places a note on the counter, and said nothing.”

  “And?”

  “She walked out. In the note, it said that unless I wanted the world to know I was bribing a council member, I’d drop three thousand dollars off at some seedy motel. I was to make it look like a flower delivery.”

  “Oh, Alberta,” Clarence said again.

  It bore repeating.

  “I didn’t want to lose my business. I make beautiful flowers, and I knew Clarence would be mad, so I did it.”

  Callen looked around. It appeared that the woman ran a decent place. Her greed got in the way.

  It always did.

  “I was scared, and honestly, I was trying to save my ass from going to jail.”

  Callen spoke up, “You could go there anyway. You’re stuck in a pickle with this one, ma’am.”

  Clarence seemed to get angry.

  He was getting red.

  Julian pointed at the table that was marked ‘outgoing deliveries’. “Maybe you should take a break and handle them,” he offered. “The last thing you need is to be angry and ready to blow. It’s never good for a relationship.”

  He agreed.

  “You’re right. I’m going to deliver these flowers. I can’t believe you, Alberta. I also can’t believe you were dropping money off at that dive motel either. That was dangerous.”

  She started tearing up again.

  “Clarence…”

  He cut her off.

  “We’ll talk later. I’m going to grab a beer and then I’ll meet you at home.”

  She watched him walk away.

  “Are you mad at me, Clarence?”

  He never looked back.

  When he left, Callen wanted to get some more info out of her, but he didn’t want it to sound like he was trying to interrogate her. The woman was already on the edge—even he could see that.

  “So, have you been a florist for long?”

  “Twenty years. I’ve never done anything like that before. You have to believe me.”

  He actually did.

  That’s why he was going to cut her a break.

  “How fast can you make up bouquets and deliver them?” he asked.

  “Fast. Why?”

  “I need ten dozen roses delivered in three hours.”

  She stared at him. “Are you serious? You just came in here to investigate me and now you want to buy flowers? Are you kidding me?”

  Even Julian was watching him curiously. Callen learned there was a time to be a hard-ass Fed, and there was a time to be a husband.

  He was thinking about his wife, and in that moment, it mattered to him.

  “Just answer the question. Can you do it?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I want all red. I’ll fill out the card,” he offered, moving toward the counter with his credit card in hand.

  “If you say so, but it’s going to be pricy. We’re talking over a grand.”

  He didn’t care.

  It was only money.

  “They are for my wife. Money isn’t a problem. You do your thing, and I’ll worry about the bill.”

  He handed her the credit card. When she looked at it, and read the name, she glanced back up at him.

  “Jackson James? Isn’t that some author? You said your name was Callen Whitefox.”

  He laughed. It appeared that he’d found one of the few people who hadn’t seen his escapades all over the media.

  “Jackson James is my night gig. Really, it’s me.”

  She looked skeptical.

  “Okay, then Google it. I was just at a red-carpet thingy not too long ago.”

  Alone.

  He’d been forced to go without his wife, and it had sucked.

  When she pulled out her tablet, and actually did search him, Julian laughed.

  While he didn’t understand where this was going, he was still amused.

  “Holy crap. You are him, or you look just like him.”

  He leaned over the counter. Keep flipping. As she did, he pulled a picture out of his wallet. It was of Elizabeth. He carried it with him behind his license. It was taken before they were a couple, when he had to secretly lust after her.

  That picture had been stared at—a lot.

  “Here’s my wife. Compare it to the photos online.”

  She did.

  It was clear she believed him. She ran the credit card, and began getting ready to get the flowers started.

  While she worked, Callen kept talking. “How long have you and Clarence been an item?” he asked.

  “About ten years. We talk about getting married, but he’s not ready.”

  Callen lifted a brow.

  If you didn’t know if you were ready by the year ten marker, you were probably never going to do it.

  Someone had cold feet.

  “We will one day. He’s a good man and loves me,” Alberta said, clipping the stems. “Do you want them thorn-less?” she asked. “It’s more.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  She began plucking thorns at an expert pace.

  “He was out delivering that night?” Callen asked.

  “Yeah, and he came back about nine. I was finishing up for the night.”

  Callen heard all he needed to hear.

  “Well, can you have him deliver these to this hotel room?” he asked, scribbling it on some paper after he signed the receipt she’d left there.

  “YES! Where would you like them? I can go do them myself. That way there’s that ambiance.”

  She didn’t doubt that they were for a special occasion.

  “Thank you, but that’s okay. Let him do it. I’ll rearrange them when I get there. Just have him drop them in the bedroom, if possible. Someone at the desk will help him.”

  She had him sign the receipt.

  “Thank you, Mr. James.”

  They headed out.

  “What was that?” Julian asked. “One minute we were questioning a woman who admitted to bribery, and then you’re shopping for roses. Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

  Callen grinned.

  “I was switching it up.”

  “Clearly, but why?”

  “Well, she was too tense to tell us anything we needed to know, and I saw a better opportunity.”

  “What?”

  “She can’t be the killer. Did you see her hands?” Callen asked.

  “Yeah, she has a pair like everyone else.”

  “H
er hands were shaking and her fingers were bent. She has severe arthritis. There is no way she clubbed Shelby in the head.”

  He thought about it.

  “Okay, but why the flowers? Are you kissing wife ass?” Julian teased.

  “I wanted to learn more about the boyfriend, and I also wanted to make Elizabeth smile,” he offered, dropping his sunglasses onto his face.

  They were more about the camera flashes than the sun.

  “What about him, exactly?” Julian asked, as he hopped into his ride.

  “Before he came rushing into the room, I saw him peek around the door. He knew we were there. He was listening to us, and then he stormed in. I’m willing to bet it was fake anger too.”

  “Uh, okay.”

  “He looked worried, and then he looked relieved. He’s hiding something from her too. I’d bet my badge on it.”

  “What? Really?”

  “Yep.”

  “But why the flowers?” Julian asked.

  He grinned. “Because he has to deliver them, and his fingerprints are going to be all over the vases.”

  He stared at him.

  “What?”

  “That’s ingenious. You should use it in a book.”

  Callen laughed. “It is clever, but I didn’t come up with it,” he admitted.

  “Who did?” he asked, as they hopped into the ride.

  “My wife. I was stuck writing the next book, and she suggested a way to get the man’s prints. She’s a fount of useful killing information. She’s my damn muse.”

  Julian laughed. “I bet the conversations in your house are very interesting.”

  Oh, he had no idea.

  “Off to the next suspect?” he asked.

  “Yeah, the transgendered person,” Julian stated. “This ought to be one hell of an interview,” he admitted. “If we can find him. I mean her. I mean…”

  He laughed. “Oh, I think fun won’t cover what this is going to be.”

  Callen was amused.

  It was clear Julian was riled up.

  Now he got why Elizabeth loved it.

  * * * L i t t l e m o o n * * *

  Delta Falls

  Morgue

  Chris was both excited and worried. No ME liked sharing his space with a stranger, let alone another doctor working for the FBI. He was excited to be back at work, doing what he loved, but nervous that the on-staff ME would give him one hell of a hard time.

  They always did.

  He wasn’t expecting a miracle. It looked like Elizabeth was going to be kicking someone’s ass.

  When the commissioner escorted him down, he was expecting backlash—of some sort.

  What he got was the total opposite.

  The man handed him the reins, grabbed his golf clubs, and headed out.

  Chris couldn’t believe it.

  What was this jackassery?

  Did the ME just bail and leave him at the helm of an office he wasn’t familiar with?

  What?

  The commissioner laughed evilly and bailed too—not that he was surprised.

  That, Chris saw coming.

  As he looked around the place, he found it to be less than suitable, but he was going to be working under the gun. Pointing at a woman, he motioned her toward the tables.

  “I want Fredrick Raymond first, and then I want Xavier Lake next. What was done with them?” he asked.

  “Well, nothing,” she said. “They’re on ice until the doctor wanted them. He wasn’t in a hurry. They were suicides—one by drugs, and one by hanging.”

  “What?” he asked. “He decided COD without opening them up? Was trace pulled? Were they photographed?”

  “He does that a lot. He’s been here a long time. Doctor Banks doesn’t mess around.”

  Chris was appalled.

  Well, shit.

  “I’ll get them out, but then I’m out of here. I’m off shift in ten minutes. You’re on your own.”

  “When does the next tech come in?” Chris asked.

  “I’ll be back tonight around nine to cover the night shift.”

  Holy crap!

  This was going to take hours. Delta falls was a hot mess when it came to the ME and the staff.

  He was screwed.

  Unless…

  Chris pulled out his cell, and he made a call. There was one person he knew could do the job, and she’d likely jump at the chance.

  “Hey, Doc,” Christina said, answering on the first ring. “How are you?”

  “Are you bored?” he asked, hoping she was going to say yes. He needed help, and fast.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Want to play head tech one last time for me?” he asked. “I have a couple autopsies to handle, and I’m here alone. I need someone who knows a body from a paper bag.”

  She squealed so loudly, he had to pull the phone away from his ear.

  “I take that as a yes?”

  “Let me call Clarissa and drop Milo off. I’ll be there in two shakes of a fluffy cotton-y bunny’s tail. Hippity hop!”

  He laughed.

  Well, when grossly inadequate staff handed you lemons, you reached into your bag of tricks and made lemonade.

  With friends.

  Ones you trusted with your life.

  * * * L i t t l e m o o n * * *

  Sabrina Adam’s

  Home

  When they arrived at the mansion, the woman was just heading for her Mercedes, and it looked like she was heading out to work. She was wearing heels, a suit with a way too short skirt for anything but a porno, and her breasts…yeah, they were totally not her own.

  Elizabeth could tell because they were there for the world to see.

  “Can I?” Tori asked, as they approached. This was going to be fun.

  “Oh, be my guest.”

  “What about me?” Arsen asked, tagging along. “You realize I’m actually the only one who can legally question her, right?”

  Legal.

  Schmegal.

  It wasn’t like Delta Falls was following the damn rules.

  “You just look pretty and let us handle this,” Elizabeth stated. “You’re a cop, and she’s going to recognize you. The less you say, the easier it’s going to be on us. Blend in.”

  He stared at her. “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously. You wanted to help, but let me do my thing.”

  “Sabrina Adams?” Tori called, trying to get the blonde’s attention.

  Not surprisingly, the woman ignored her.

  Oh, if she thought she was getting off that easy, she had another thing coming.

  There was no way in hell this woman was leaving.

  Elizabeth opted to step in and class it up.

  “Hey, blondie! You got your girly bits drilled by that techie guy, Wyatt Grant, didn’t you?” she called.

  The woman stopped dead in her tracks.

  Yeah, Elizabeth had a way of doing that.

  “What?” she asked, spinning on her expensive heels.

  “Well, it at least got her to stop and talk to us,” Tori muttered under her breath. It was hard to ignore the death stare the woman was giving her.

  “We’re here investigating Shelby Christensen’s death,” Elizabeth offered.

  Then she tagged Tori in.

  Why should she hog all the fun?

  “You were cheating on your husband with Wyatt Grant and Shelby Christensen found out. She began blackmailing him, and I’m going to bet you too.”

  The woman looked over her shoulder. “Can you keep your voice down?” she asked.

  “Tell us all you know, and maybe we’ll be quiet,” Tori said, pointing at the media across the street.

  “Shit! I knew sleeping with that nerd was going to be a huge mistake.”

  Elizabeth lifted a brow. “You two weren’t shacking up on a regular basis?” she asked.

  “No. There was a company Christmas party that my husband threw, and he made me go. I saw that geek and I was shit-face drunk. Fast forward, we fl
irted, and I was so bored I let him stick his dick in me. Blah. Blah.”

  Elizabeth had officially found someone crasser than her. This was a monumental day.

  “So, you admit it?” Tori asked, caught off guard.

  “Yeah, I do. A bunch of people left the party to go somewhere not there. It was so damn boring. So, we headed to this dive bar.”

  So far, she wasn’t lying.

  “I kept drinking, and then one of my husband’s male employees came in. Like I said, I was bored.”

  “And then?”

  “We went to some motel, of which I barely remember, when he tried to get me off for about an hour. I was so not into him I couldn’t even cum with some guy drilling me.”

  Tori didn’t know whether to laugh or…

  Oh wait.

  She knew.

  “Arsen? Your turn.”

  He stared at Tori and gave her a look. It spoke volumes.

  “Mrs. Adams,” he began.

  She focused on him. “I happen to dig men with big guns. You’re a cop, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, and…”

  She moved toward him and shoved her business card in his front jean pocket. “I bet it wouldn’t take you an hour to get me off—even drunk.”

  He didn’t know what to say.

  Elizabeth, while amused, snapped her fingers.

  “Back to the story.”

  “Yeah, okay. Next thing I know, I’m being blackmailed for riding some IT dick. It’s appalling.”

  Tori pointed at the house. “Because you’ll lose all of this? Is that why?”

  She laughed. “Uh, yeah. Husbands don’t like other men jumping on them.”

  Then she focused on Elizabeth. “Except you. I’ve seen you on TV. You’re getting it from two sexy men. How did you pull that off? Your tits are subpar.”

  Tori was pretty sure Elizabeth was going to kill her.

  “Yeah, but that IT geek had herpes and HIV. So…I’ll take my real tits over that.”

  The woman looked scared. “What?”

  “Back to questioning before you call your doctor for some bloodwork,” Elizabeth began. “You were being blackmailed for how much?”

  “A grand a month. That’s chump change. It was more money than that scumbag woman would ever see in a month. She was lower than low. I’m glad someone killed her. I hear it was her son. No shock there. I’d want her offed, too, if she was my incubator. Then again, if I wanted to ruin my shoes, I would have done it myself.”