She followed Jackson inside, her eyes adjusting to the darker interior after the stinging brightness of the sun outside. There were three desks, all covered in various papers and sorters, and a bulletin board that had several notices up, most of them about community events, rather than police notices. It really was a sleepy community. The cells lay just beyond, but there was nobody locked up in them today. Joe and Ellis, his deputy, were stood talking over by the coffee machine, sipping from thick mugs. Joe spotted Jackson and Catherine, and nodded over at them, walking slowly over to his desk.
Joe Frankson was a man in his late forties, still good-looking, but years of good living had given him a slight pot-belly. His light blond hair was just turning peppery at the edges, and he had a small beard covering his chin, with a matching moustache. He sat down heavily in his office chair, setting his mug down on the desk, where the coffee rings of mugs long past still showed through.
“Well, how can I help you folks?”
Jackson gestured for Catherine to go towards the two battered looking chairs in front of the desk, and began to walk over. She grimaced, and followed him over, sitting down lazily, crossing her legs. “Well, I need to talk to you about this weird note I got Joe. It...well, it came with a dagger. And it said that someone was coming for me.”
Joe leaned forwards on his desk, placing his arms in front of himself. “Wait, this isn’t a joke? Have you got the dagger or note with you?”
Catherine nodded, and pulled her bag in front of herself, rummaging around amongst the sweet wrappers and make-up. Eventually she found the offensive object, wrapped up in a plastic bag with the note, and passed it over to Joe, who took it gingerly, narrowing his eyes. He unravelled the plastic, and looked closely at the note, which was clearly visible through the bad. Raising his gaze, he gave a sharp look at Catherine.
“Have you told your mom?” He knew about the problems Catherine and her mother had when her father had disappeared; her mother and Joe were old friends. Catherine shook her head slowly.
“Good. I think it would be best if we didn’t tell her for now. I’ll have to take these in, of course.” Catherine nodded silently. “Okay, now when did you find this? And where?”
“Well…” Catherine gave a glance towards Jackson, who pulled a go-on-then face. “I found it in my bedroom last night. I’d been out all day, and there was only my mum in. She would have said something, as you know, if she had seen anyone. The note was wrapped around the hilt, and someone had shoved it underneath my bed.”
“There was nothing else? Nothing missing, nothing broken into?”
She shrugged. “Anyone could have walked in, I guess. My mum had the front door open, and she was out in the garden. Anyone could have sneaked in and left without her seeing. And nothing was missing as far as I could see.”
Joe stood up awkwardly, pushing his chair out, and passed the bag across to Ellis. “Ellis, get that down to the main office, pronto. I need to find out if there are any fingerprints left on it, and whether they can find out anything else that will help us.” Ellis nodded, and began to rummage around in a steel drawer for a proper bag, picking up the phone at the same time to ring ahead.
Joe sat down again, hitching his trousers. His expression was one of confusion. He scratched at his beard for a moment, and then pursed up his lips, shaking his head. “I just don’t know how to go about this...I think we’re gonna have to tell your mom.”
Catherine’s mouth fell open in protest. “No, you can’t! You don’t know what she was like last time-“
Holding up a hand to indicate he hadn’t finished, Joe continued, as Jackson put his arm around Catherine’s shoulders, trying to comfort her. “Now listen, young lady. I know full well how it might upset her, but I have no choice. I can’t pursue this and not let her know that there are strange people creeping around her house, can I now? We’ll need to make sure that there’s protection at your house tonight. Now, is your mom out right now?”
Holding back another bubble of protest, Catherine nodded. “Yes, she’s out visiting a friend. She won’t be back until late though.”
“Alright. I’ll come over to your house and talk to her then. I’d appreciate it if you were there. I’ll stay over for tonight, and I’ll work out a schedule with the other officers to make sure they can stay nights too.”
Grasping her bag tightly, Catherine nodded again. “Okay. Is that all?”
“Yes, until tonight. I’ll talk to you more then. Now you take care, you hear?”
Catherine smiled at him, forcing it to look brighter than she felt, and then rose up, walking over towards the door. Swinging it open into the bright sunlight again, she squinted, looking up into the sky. Jackson was following her closely, kicking a pile of dust up into the air. He sighed, and crossed his arms over his chest, creasing his forehead tiredly. “Catherine, promise me you’re not going to do anything tonight that could get you into trouble.”
Letting out a breath of annoyance, Catherine spun around, and narrowed her eyes at him. “You see, this is why I didn’t want Shawna to tell anyone. I don’t need fawning over, Jackson, I’m a big girl. I know not to walk into dark alleyways and talk to strangers.” She snapped her mouth shut, thinking of Caden, who she had agreed to meet in just a few hours.
Jackson saw the movement, and caught her arm, going in closer to her. “Catherine. What was that?” His tone was low and warning. Getting really annoyed with him now, Catherine pulled her arm away, and scowled.
“It’s nothing Jackson. Please stop it; I don’t need a protector, okay?”
He saw her determined look, and let his hands fall by his sides, placing them on his hips instead. He hung in head in silence, and looked across to the peaceful town centre, with mothers pushing their babies in pushchairs, and couples walking hand in hand. Nodding, he looked back up at Catherine. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you and your mom, that’s all. Surely you can understand that?”
The expression on Catherine’s face softened, and she smiled slightly. “Sure, I can understand that. But please don’t worry about me, okay? I promise I’ll look after myself. Friends?” She held out her hand in a gesture of friendship, and he grasped it, smiling warmly.
“Of course we are. Always.”
As she walked away, Jackson continued watching her, his brow furrowed. He hadn’t missed that strange look on her face, and he knew her better than she thought. Maybe he would have to ring Shawna to check…
Chapter 5
Catherine fumbled nervously with her blouse button; first doing it up, and then unbuttoning it again. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so worried about how she looked for a man. She must have spent at least two hours trying on different outfits and make-up, before settling on jeans and a simple white cotton blouse. Her make-up was kept to a minimum, with only foundation and mascara. As a last minute thought, she had slicked on a coat of red lipstick. Now she wished she hadn’t, it felt strange and far too flirtatious on her lips-she half expected old Mrs Delfoy to open the door and begin screaming “Harlot!”.
Trying to peer through the thick lacy curtain that hung behind Mrs Delfoy’s pristine front door, Catherine raised her arm, and rapped sharply on the glass. The sound of cicadas added to the soft, dream-like feeling of the evening. The air was sticky and humid, with no relief from a gentle breeze, and Catherine was suffering for it again. She was suddenly interrupted from her reverie by the sound of small footsteps making their way across the creaking floorboards within. The lacy curtain was thrust aside, and the wrinkled face of Mrs Delfoy appeared. Smiling as she saw Catherine, she let the curtain fall, and the door was pulled open, a scent of dried violets bursting forth into the night.
“Why, hello dearie. What are you doing here this evening?”
“Well, I um…arranged to see Mr Rouquette, I believe he said he was staying with you?”
Mrs Delfoy nodded, enthusiastically. “Oh yes, dearie, he certainly is. Come on in, come on in, he�
�s out in the garden round the back. Just go on through, I’ll bring you out some lemonade.”
“Thank you Mrs Delfoy.” Catherine squeezed past her into her antique-filled hallway. The darkened hallway was crammed with expensive antiquities, tall exotic-looking vases, several old grandfather clocks that had stopped chiming a long time ago, and gilt-edged mirrors. A smiling Japanese porcelain dog sat comfortably next to a wilting spider-plant, and a French carriage clock. A green carpet was rolled throughout, and the walls were covered in fading Victorian print wallpaper. There was something comforting and cosy about the whole atmosphere. Mrs Delfoy bustled behind her, disappearing into her kitchen. Catherine knew where she was going, and walked through into Mrs Delfoy’s sitting room, where the porch doors were wide open, letting the sweet night air filter in.
Peering outside, Catherine took in the sight of the dimly lit garden, tall willow trees gently swinging their fronds in the stillness around the edges. The garden burst with colourful flowers, all arranged in delicate patterns. In the centre of it all, was Caden, digging out some of the grass with a large spade. He was dressed only in his jeans and boots; a sheen of sweat slicked across his muscle-rippled torso, a white Stetson on his head. Trying to be as silent as possible, Catherine began to walk across the garden, the soft grass shushing at her footsteps.
Caden looked up, and grinned at her, turning and leaning on his spade. She nearly fainted when she saw that grin, along with the rest of him displayed so freely in front of her. Gods, he looks good! He tilted his hat back, and watched her closely as she made her way shyly towards him.
“Hello, Mr Rouquette. I um…was going to talk to you about your family tree and stuff, but…if you’re busy? Please say no, please say no, please say no…
He chuckled; a rich chocolaty sound. “Not at all, I’m happy to stop now. I just offered to help Mrs Delfoy dig up a little of her garden for a new flower-bed. Why don’t we sit down here?” Caden gestured to a raised part of the garden, still covered in grass, but shaped for a seating area.
Her heart beating nervously, Catherine sat herself down, trying to look as elegant as possible. Caden sat down next to her, and leaned on his elbow, stretching himself out. Catherine felt that slow blush returning to her face again, and she quickly turned away, but not before he noticed.
“Why, Miss Catherine! You seem to gotten quite warm all of a sudden…are you okay?”
When she looked back at him, he was grinning devilishly, his eyes twinkling. She smiled shyly at his flirting, breaking it into a full grin the more she thought about it. She shrugged. “I’m fine. I’m just…” Pausing, Catherine thought about something. “You know I’m not really that good on history, right? I did start a degree, but my mum moved here before I could finish it.”
Caden shrugged in turn, and took a deep breath. “That’s okay.”
“But I thought you wanted help with your family tree?” Frowning, she stared at him, confused by what he meant.
Licking his lips, Caden seemed to think about something for a second, his eyes going far-away looking. He sat himself up slightly, and the boyish twinkle disappeared from his eyes. “Look…I uh…I made that up.”
“What!”
As she went to jump up, he gestured for her to sit back down again. “No, wait! Please! It isn’t as bad as it sounds. I…saw you from outside the bar yesterday, and couldn’t think of what I could say to you. When I went in and that barkeeper spoke to me, it was the first thing that popped into my head. I’m sorry. I just…god, you looked so pretty.” He abruptly sat himself up, hugging his knees.
Catherine bit her lip, and shuffled closer to him, placing her hand on his arm. He looked at it in surprise. “Look, while I don’t appreciate you lied to me, I understand what you mean. I kind of get tongue-tied around men too.”
The sparkle returned, and he smirked, turning his face to raise an eyebrow at her. “Even me?”
Giggling, Catherine nodded. “Especially you. You’re gorgeous.”
“Am I?” He tried to keep the grin of his face, trying to look modest instead. He didn’t succeed, and broke into that brilliant flash of whites again. “So are you.”
He turned to face her, and gently put his palm to her cheek, staring deep into her eyes. Catherine almost let out a gasp; they were so vivid and bright, even with their dark grey hue, like silvery pools she could just sink right into. He stroked his thumb along her soft skin, and she couldn’t help closing her eyes at the electric touch. Opening them again, she saw with surprise that he was just as entranced; his mouth parted with shallow breaths. He began to lean in, his firm lips just begging for her touch-
“Here we are dearies!” Mrs Delfoy appeared at the French doors, breaking the spell, and carrying a tray with glasses and a frosty jug of lemonade. She gingerly stepped down from the house, and began to bustle her way along the garden towards them, pausing every now and then to throw an appreciative look towards her flower beds. As she drew closer, she nodded happily towards Caden. “Thank you dearie, you’ve done a wonderful job with the flower beds. Here’s your lemonade; I’ll leave it here for you. I’ll leave you both to your talk now.” Catherine and Caden murmured thank you as she shuffled away again, stopping to sniff at her flowers, before she disappeared inside her house again.
They turned and looked at one another, and laughed, awkwardly. Caden cleared his throat, and looked up at Catherine again, smiling softly. “So…I suppose we should start afresh?”
“Yes, okay.” Catherine felt her stomach do a double flip, sending butterflies fluttering through her body. “So your name is real, at least?”
His warm chuckle washed over her once more. “Sure is. I’ll tell more about myself…I come from ‘round these parts, but I work as a bodyguard. I…can’t honestly tell you a lot about that though, because you know…secret and all that.” He pulled an apologetic face, and Catherine nodded in acknowledgement. “I grew up not far from here, with my step-mother and father. They owned a horse ranch, and I pretty much spent every spare moment riding on horses or mucking out with my father. You know; the kind of days in your memory that are just washed in sunshine and laughter?”
Catherine did know. She had memories of her mum and dad playing with her on a beach, the seagulls crying above in an azure blue-sky, and the sunshine beating down gently on the golden sand. Christmases filled with coloured wrapping paper and merry sounds.
Caden saw her look, and curled his finger under her chin, lifting her mournful expression to meet his. “What is it? Sad memories?”
“No, happy ones…they just have a sad ending.”
“In what way?”
Catherine bit her lip, and stared up at the evening sky, to where the stars were just starting to appear, softly twinkling against the velvety blue. She sighed. “Okay…when I was younger, I lived in England with my mum and dad. My mum is from here though, that’s how we ended up back here. My dad…disappeared when I about seven. We got death threats and all sorts of horrible things, but his body was never found. So we don’t know if he just disappeared, or if he was murdered. We moved back here about five years ago; I just think my mum couldn’t handle living in the same place where he had lived. They were so in love.” Catherine trailed off, her memories remembering times she saw her parents giggling together, or sharing a kiss, or hugging her close into both of them.
“I’m so sorry.” Caden whispered, snapping her back into the present. His eyes were full of sadness. She smiled at him, and shook her head.
“No, it’s fine, really. It was such a long time ago now; I just…block myself from thinking about it.” Glancing down at her watch, she scrambled to her feet. “Oh, hell, I have to go! I’m so sorry, it’s just I have to get back for my mum, for a-“
“It’s fine, relax.” Caden gracefully pulled himself up, almost moving with unnatural ease. “I can see you tomorrow night, right?”
Catherine beamed at him, nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely. I’d like that. Why don’t we meet at Henri�
�s? You know, the bar?”
Pulling his jeans up slightly, Caden came over closer to her. “Sure, sounds good. Tomorrow night then, Miss Catherine.”
Caden went to hold his hand out to shake hers, but as she moved forwards, he took his hand away, and placed it behind her head. Before Catherine had a chance to stop him, he pressed his lips against hers, kissing them softly. She gasped behind her lips, closing her eyes in pleasure at his firm touch. Skilfully, he probed at her mouth with his tongue, opening her soft lips to him. Caden explored her mouth with, long, gentle strokes, making her melt against him.
Catherine felt herself growing dizzy, and she put her arms around his shoulders, to hold herself steady. Caden moved his hand, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, taking her mouth with abandon. Just when she thought she was about to faint, Caden broke the kiss, leaving her breathless.
He smiled down at her, releasing his hold, steadying her on her feet. “’Til tomorrow night then, Miss Catherine.”
“Tomorrow night, Mr Rouquette.” Catherine replied, in a voice that was breathy and husky. Clearing her throat, she straightened herself up and pulled her blouse straight. Well aware that Caden was watching her with amusement, she began to make her way back across Mrs Delfoy’s guest house, feeling as light as air.
Chapter 6
By the time Catherine reached her house, it was far later than she had meant it to be, and it was already dark. She could see that the sitting room light was on, and the silhouetted figures of her mother and Joe stood by the window. She jogged the last few steps to the front door, banging it open and running inside.
With You In Spirit (The Bassinville Witches Series) Page 3