“Come on in, Beau. We’ll take care of it.”
He hung up the phone and couldn’t believe what was going on. Here, he was beginning to think that he’d been conned by his own mother.
He’d gone there to preach of her being a victim, and now Tori was about to be taken down.
Was he wrong?
Damn it!
He was so screwed, it wasn’t funny.
He was about to lose his sister.
Again.
* * *
She had never been more pissed in all her life. As she stared across the desk at her deputy, her temper was flaring.
“What do you mean they made you? How hard was it to follow two rent-a-detectives around this town?” she shouted at Harvey Webb.
“Ma’am,” he began, only getting cut off for more of a tirade.
“Then, to make it a million times worse, they send you back here, and you do it! Who the hell do you work for? I should have sent Case or Kline. They wouldn’t have gotten busted, and if they did, they would have known to keep tailing them.”
He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you are. Your daddy would be shocked and appalled at your skills. You’re never going to be a sheriff in this town. You don’t have it in you, son. You’re a mess. If two suspicious characters told you to come here, would you?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then why the hell did you let them tell you what to do? They were probably working on something hot and needed to get rid of you.”
She sat, her blue eyes fuming as she pulled her brown hair back into a ponytail.
“Just go home. Check out for the day. I have no use for you right now. I need to calm down and figure out what the hell to do next. I was counting on you!”
He stood and left the office silently.
Outside, he decided to do what she said. He was going to go out and keep watching them.
This time, he wouldn’t let his father down, or the sheriff. It mattered.
His job was important to him.
He wanted to do it right.
* * *
Tori was excited to see the box of letters. She loved slipping into the past to see what life was like then, compared to now. That was something she really enjoyed about the Kentucky case, and this one.
It was like a glimpse into someone’s life.
It fascinated her.
Julian looked around the room. He was pleasantly surprised that Hurricane Claire didn't destroy the place. His sister might be small but she left a trail of destruction in her path.
It had always been that way, even when they were kids.
Taking out the letters, Tori carefully read over them. When she got to the point, she glanced up disgusted.
“What?”
She showed him.
“I don’t speak Spanish. You need to translate,” Julian offered.
Tori started reading them again, this time out loud.
‘I, Maurizio Carlsbad, do promise you the hand of my daughter as yours. In exchange for this marriage, you will give to me two gold bricks and twenty gold coins.’
“He sold her like she was cattle. If she didn't kill her father,” Tori stated, “she should have.”
Julian kissed her cheek.
There was nothing that pissed her off more than when men thought that women were nothing more than property. Yes, back then that happened, but it still made her mad.
How could it not?
“We know he was a bastard, but now we have other issues to worry about. We have that passageway and it’s going to be dark soon. I know it’s crazy, but they’re creepier at night.”
Tori laughed, knowing that he was trying to lighten the mood. Certainly, he was aware that she was thinking about her own father.
“I love you, Jules.”
He was well aware.
“Thank you for not destroying the place,” he offered to Beckett.
“It wasn’t easy.” He jerked his head toward Claire. “If you know what I mean.”
He was promptly elbowed in his ribs by the smaller Native woman. “Keep it up, if you know what I mean.”
Beckett loved how easy she was to be around. Claire was a really great catch. Even while she gave him the look, he could see the love in her eyes.
“How about we head up to that corridor?” Tori offered. “I have to admit that I’m curious.”
Julian wasn’t.
He could live without this and be more than happy to head home. He suspected that nothing hidden in this house was going to be happy to be uncovered. Treasure, ghosts, and dead bodies all screamed bad news to him.
Yet not to Tori. That’s because his wife was crazy.
Upstairs, they began climbing through the closet. Beckett made damn sure that he was far away from any of the remains. The last thing he wanted was to touch them and revisit that little nightmare.
Once through, Julian turned on his flashlight. “Call if you find anything. It’s likely just going to be dead ends. They’ve built and rebuilt this house so many times, that we’ll do it fast and then check it off.”
Both teams headed off.
Claire wanted to lead the way, but that wasn’t happening. Beckett was done hiding behind his woman. When they came to a drop, he shone his light down. There was only a partial ladder there. It didn't look safe.
“How good are you at scaling things?” he asked, trying to work out a plan.
“Good, why?”
“I’m going to brace my feet on this wall, and use my hands on the other. I should be able to get down there. Then, you can do the same or hang down, and I’ll catch you.”
She wasn’t so sure this was a good idea, but it was too late. “Don’t fall. I’ve had to drag you once, and you’re not exactly light.”
He grinned before beginning his descent. “Just shine the light on the walls. I need to focus.”
Claire did as he asked. “It looks like our passage leads to the main floor. This ladder must have worked at one time. It looks like someone used to use it a lot.”
He didn't speak.
Instead, he followed the light beam, making sure he didn't put his hand on a nail or anything else that would make his life hell. Beckett was using the energy to reassure him that there was nothing going to suck him under.
Once at the bottom, he looked up. “It’s about ten feet down. There’s four feet of ladder. If you climb down and hang, I can grab you.”
She trusted him and dropped the flashlight to him. Doing just that, Claire got to the bottom and used her arms to support her. She could feel his hands on her ass.
“Don’t enjoy this.”
He laughed maniacally. “Oh, I am a petty, petty man. I absolutely am loving every second of this job.”
She dropped into his arms and was slowly lowered down his body.
“I told you I have you,” he offered, leaving a kiss on her neck in the darkness.
While Claire wanted to make out with the man, she knew they didn't have that luxury. “I hope this leads somewhere, or we’re screwed. How do you plan on getting back up?”
He shrugged. “Same way I got down.”
Beckett took her hand and began leading her down the dark passageway. That’s when he suddenly felt it before he saw it. He came to a stop, his body blocking her path.
“Beck?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his torso.
“We’re not alone, Claire,” he offered, already feeling the energy. “We’re also at the end of the path. We’re at a dead end.”
When he turned, she could see his face in the glow of the light. He didn't look well at all.
“You better call Julian. We’re trapped and someone is definitely here.”
Claire didn't argue.
Instead, she dialed fast.
* * *
He got the call just as they were finding the dead end to their corridor. When his sister explained the situation, he didn't hesitate.
“Start banging on the walls. We’ll
listen for you and come looking.” He wanted to get them out, but Julian also wanted to find out who their next victim was.
Tori was already charging down the darkened hall, trying to get out. Once past the pile of bones, they were out in the light. Running from room to room, they tried to listen to any sounds of banging behind a wall.
Downstairs, they checked the kitchen, living room, and finally ended up in the library, where they had just been earlier.
Behind the one wall, they could hear the pounding.
“Claire!” yelled Julian.
She shouted back, her response barely audible.
Together, they began feeling for every crack in the wall. When Tori was able to feel a breeze from between two shelves of books, she glanced over at Julian. “Knife.”
He pulled it out of his pocket and flicked it open. “Here you go, honey. Don’t cut yourself.”
With nimble fingers, she began wiggling the blade in between the wood. Pulling up, she felt the mechanism pop.
Julian tugged on the wood, causing the ancient hinges to swing open. Now revealed was a skeleton wearing a pearl necklace and tattered clothes. She had to be in there for sixty years. The material was disintegrating around her and the apparel told of the decade she had gone into the wall.
Beckett was glad to be out of there. His head began clearing as he stood in the library. Who would have thought he would be grateful to be back in that room?
They all stared at the skeleton on the floor. “It appears to be a woman.” She had jewelry on her fingers and body.
“I can’t believe the walls are filled with remains,” Claire stated. “This place really is ‘The Killing House’.”
Julian made a vow right there and then. This was the last old house they were coming to. Next case, it was going to be straight forward and anywhere but a mansion or plantation.
He was at his max for these kinds of surprises.
“At least she’s in one piece,” Tori offered. “Jules, I know you’re thinking of hiding this body again, but I really think we need to turn them over.
She could feel the energy around this victim, and it wasn’t good. There was buzzing in her ears, signaling that the spirits weren’t happy.
“You want to hand the remains over to the sheriff?” A part of him wanted to do just that. Then, they could get the hell out of there. He was man enough to admit that this place scared the shit out of him.
Julian, when it came to ghosts, just might be a coward.
She shook her head. “How about we call Elizabeth and ask for a favor? Maybe she can get the local FBI office to take them on the DL. They can hold them until we’re done, and then they can take over.”
He thought about it.
“It’s the right thing to do,” Beckett stated. “We both used to serve and protect, Julian. It’s time we stopped breaking the rules. Who wants the karma from lying?”
Julian knew they were right. “Okay. I’ll call later, but first, we need confirmation on her ID. Beckett, are you up for this?”
He absolutely wasn’t, but it didn't matter.
“Yes.”
Getting down on the floor, he could feel the darkness coming off her. It was giving him chills and drawing goose bumps across his body.
Yeah, touching her was going to be a huge mistake.
As he pulled off his glove, he prepared to do the deed. At his back, Claire placed her hand, offering him strength.
“Be back in a second,” he said, touching her skeletonized arm. He hoped that wouldn’t be one hell of a lie. Beckett prayed that the woman beside him could save him if he sunk too deep.
Immediately, he was pulled into the darkness.
It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. While the last skeleton gave him flashes of brutal murder, this was something far worse.
The woman was being violated.
There was violence.
Rape.
Anger.
Terror.
And it was all slamming against him in wave after wave of heat and vile brutality. He fought to stay afloat, but it inundated him, pulling him under.
Her screams for the killer to stop filled his head, making it hard to think. Beckett tried to focus on his talisman, Claire, but it was all too much.
Just as the visions moved from assault to murder, they all stopped.
Claire was holding him in her arms as they both sat against the open bookshelf.
Beckett still couldn’t breathe.
He felt coated in something so slick with evil, that he didn't think he’d get free from it. It whispered in his ear, buzzing with anger.
Take.
Take.
Take.
It wouldn’t let him go.
“Well?” Julian asked.
“It’s definitely a woman, and whoever killed her, sexually assaulted her first.” It was all he could get out. Everything else was locked deep within his body, chained down with some unseen force.
Claire immediately went into soothing mode, but his body only tensed more. The more she stroked, the more he became agitated at her gentle fingers.
He was helpless to the anger.
“That had to be bad,” Tori said sympathetically. She could see that he wasn’t well. “Why don’t you go back to your room and relax? We’ll close this up and call the FBI. I think you two earned a little down time after this.”
Tori’s gaze kept flickering from Claire to Beckett. The man didn't look well at all.
Beckett could barely hear them. Inside, he was battling something so big, that it took all his concentration. He had no choice but to let Claire lead them away. His thoughts were a swirl with so much anger, pain, and lust, that he was ready to break apart from it all.
It was like whatever malevolent entity that had touched their dead victim was now trying to live in him. It was festering beneath his skin, ready to strike.
Beckett hoped he could stay in control.
Claire kept holding his hand, offering him reassurance. When he would try and pull away, she wouldn’t let him. All he wanted was to get some distance between them. It was arduous to get back to the room, each step laden with the killer’s blackness coating his soul.
He prayed. ‘Keep Claire safe.’
Beckett hoped it wouldn’t fall on deaf ears.
Once inside their room, Claire was worried. The man beside her wasn’t speaking. In fact, his body was ramrod stiff and trembling. After closing the door, she wrapped her body around his to offer Beckett all the peace she could muster.
“I have you now. It’s going to be all right. I promise. We’re going to be fine. Just give it a few minutes to catch your breath.”
Staring down at her, he couldn’t think about what she was saying. He was too overwhelmed by the barrage of emotions and lust filled intentions. What he wanted was for Claire to leave. She needed to get as far away from him as possible, but the words wouldn’t form in his mouth.
It was as if his body was on disconnect, almost like he didn't have any control over it.
“It’s okay,” she cajoled, stroking his arm. “I have you,” she promised.
The gentle stroking, and her body pressed to the front of his hard tormented one, was far more than he could take. As she continued to try and soothe him, the violence and lust ate through his defenses.
Roughly pushing her back, he watched Claire tumble onto the bed in shock. It was clearly on her face. She didn't know what was going on.
God!
Please forgive him.
He was about to do something so horrible that it would cost him everything he loved.
He knew it.
Before Claire could ask what was happening, Beckett Rand lost the internal battle.
He went under.
That’s when he attacked.
~ Chapter Eighteen ~
Claire was so shocked at his forceful shove that she didn't know what to think. As she landed on her back, she could see something wasn’t right. Beckett was never viol
ent with her.
In fact, the opposite was true.
As he stared at her with a vacant look in his eyes, she suspected that he was trapped beneath something that neither of them understood.
She tried to move back on the bed, only to have him pounce. He dove onto her, pinning her wrists above her head with one of his much larger hands. With the other, he ripped down the center of her button up shirt.
The fabric tore.
The buttons flew carelessly onto the bedding and the bedroom floor.
As he stared down into her eyes, she was sure he was in there, but it was going to take work to get to him. Claire needed to stay calm and focused. She was battling for Beckett--against whatever had hold of him.
Before she could say anything, his mouth crashed down against hers. The feel and taste were welcome familiarity. While it didn't stop him from taking what the screaming voice in his head demanded, it did keep him sane.
Instead of fighting him, Claire opted to go along for the ride. Beckett was in there, he had to be. She submitted, hoping to lure him out.
When he was finished ravaging her mouth, he kept her pinned beneath him. Moving lower, he found her breast through the fabric. Beckett began sucking as if he was trying to devour her.
She arched with so much pleasure as he feasted on her body. The hard length of him was proof that he was aroused, and his urgent nips and bites with his mouth made it crystal clear.
He wanted her, and he was going to have her.
Claire moaned as he worked her nipples into taut peaks with frenzied lips. It dawned on Claire that it was still the man she loved, but just with more need brewing in him.
While he feasted on her upper body, his hand had already found the front of her jeans, and he was pulling them open.
Claire was too lost in the sensation of being taken by Beckett. It was dark, it was powerful, and it made her wet.
God!
She wanted him, even like this. Where some might be afraid, she put her faith in him.
Unthinkable Games (LIttlemoon Investigations Book 3) Page 29