by Diane Capri
“That would be great. If there is a link from that night, that could help us figure out who murdered Nick, then maybe Roger Hawks can give us some answers.”
“I agree, but let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. I will likely have to jump through some hoops as it is.”
“Right.” I couldn’t help but smile. Yes I was really attracted to Lucas, but it was also nice to have this kind of support. He wanted to help me.
“Anything else? Anyone else you’ve encountered who you think might have had it in for Nick?”
“I forgot to tell you about Jackson.”
“Jackson?”
“Yeah.” I gave him an abbreviated description of the strange man and his bizarre behavior.
“I don’t like him at all,” Lucas said, his voice low and gruff.
“Me neither. I should also tell you someone followed me home the other night. And then yesterday, I was almost attacked by a jaguar.” Lucas looked incredulous until I told him about Pierre and how Anastasia tried to attack me. I even mentioned how I could have sworn I spotted Pierre back at the bar with some woman.
“This isn’t good.” He sounded angry. “That Pierre fellow, the jaguar, and the woman—who if I had to guess are one in the same—are from the Black and were sent to mess with you.”
“Okay … but how can you tell?”
“Trust me. I can read the signs.”
“But can you explain what’s going on? I mean, who were those people?”
“First of all, they weren’t people. Shapeshifters, most likely. And possibly a necromancer as well.”
More shape shifter stuff? And now necromancers? “You mean as in someone who has been raised from the dead?” Lucas nodded. Oh boy! What in the hell had I gotten myself into?
“I have a very bad feeling about all of this, Lucas.” And that, my friends, is what’s known as an understatement.
“I know.” His hand picked up mine. “But there is a reason why all of this is happening, and it’s not just because of the Black. Remember, the White has influence too. Just as I have been sent here to protect and hopefully guide you, you’ve been brought here to find out who killed your friend, and maybe, solve the mystery of what happened to your sister.”
I sucked in my breath and felt tears sting my eyes.
“Hey, hey, don’t do that. I’m sorry. I thought that’s what you wanted.” His fingers brushed my cheeks wiping away the tears.
“No. Don’t be.” I looked up at him and he withdrew his fingers. “I want to know. I do want to know what happened to her.”
“Okay. I will help you then. But I need to go.”
“Again?” Here he had touched me and everything seemed so, I don’t know, kind of like intimate. “Why? We’re talking and hanging out and I like you here.” I know I sounded whiny, but I did like him around.
“I like being here but I am not here to be your friend. I’m here because…”
“I’m your project.”
He waited a minute to respond. When he did, he picked up my hand again, sending those fluttering feelings back down to my toes.
“I was kind of a bad boy in my day, when I was, you know, living. I lived and played hard. I had a lot of women. And now I’m here and I have to be honest, I want so badly to be there with you. Your world. Or here with you. My world. Do you know what I mean?”
“I think.” My stomach sunk.
“If I were a real man again, I would have already pursued and seduced you and completely had my way with you.”
Okay. Yep. Now my stomach really did sink. I found my voice, which sounded almost guttural when I spoke. “Well, how do you even know if you could have seduced me and had your way with me?” Jeez, I was flirting with a spirit!
He smiled. “I had some pretty good moves.”
“Oh you did, did you?” Yes, I was flirting with a dead guy.
“I did.”
“What were they?”
He looked into my eyes almost as if he could look through me, which maybe he could.
“Evie, I can’t. I can’t go there with you. I have some feelings that I shouldn’t, and I want to help you. I want to protect you and you are my project, and…”
“Project! Oh, come on! I don’t even know what that really means, Lucas!” I raised my voice. “This whole thing is crazy,” I said my voice raised a couple of octaves as I felt lightheaded.
I noticed in those few seconds something different about the way his eyes looked—almost sad, and I regretted my words and actions. I sunk back into flirtation mode. I don’t know what compelled me. I don’t know what I was thinking, but dammit, I was completely and totally attracted to Lucas—his spirit— vibration, whatever the hell he wanted to call it.
“I mean can’t you show me what your moves were? See if I would have fallen under your spell?”
He stood. “No I can’t! You and me—no. We can’t. You’re a human and I’m not, and there are rules and … I have to go.” With those words, he was gone, and I was left speechless and in complete dismay.
CHAPTER THIRTY
IT WAS HARD TO CONCENTRATE the next day while doing Simone’s makeup. Fortunately she didn’t have much to do for the day. She was kind of a grump for some reason and didn’t say much to me.
We were in her bedroom and she’d asked for a simple look.
“I want to go to a Starbucks and have coffee, but everyone wants a piece of me,” she said.
I wanted to ask her about the record producer but could see she was sulky and when she gets like that, the world becomes even more about her than usual.
“I want my pumpkin spice latte and to be left alone, but I want to be around people.”
“You can go in disguise,” I suggested, brushing a peach color blush across her perfectly angled cheekbones.
She picked up one of my brushes and threw it across the room. “I don’t want to go as someone else!”
“Sorry,” I said, retrieving the brush. Clooney, who had been asleep on her bed, lifted his head up.
“No. I’m sorry. I’m, well, do you think I’m getting old?” she asked.
“No. Why?”
“The Hollywood Insider has an article about who they think will age well and who won’t. I am on the ‘won’t’ list.” She pointed to the paper on her boudoir. I picked it up and read over the list.
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “You’re beautiful, and you will age like fine wine. I am sure of it.” Not that I knew what fine wine really ages like, but the saying is out there so I gave it a shot. I flipped open the rag. “Why do you read this stuff in the first place?”
“I know. It’s stupid.”
“It is,” I muttered as something caught my eye. An article about Nick, and it was written by Jackson Owens. What the hell? “I’ll get rid of this for you. You look great. Do you want me to take you somewhere?”
“No.” She sat there texting on her iPhone. “I guess it’s silly for me to think I could ever go to a Starbucks as myself and sit there like a normal person. I only wanted to try and look pretty today.” She frowned and went back to her phone. “I think I need to spend the rest of the day in the movie room watching Ocean’s Eleven again. You can go,” she muttered.
I was a little surprised she didn’t insist I stay and watch with her, but as I pulled out of her front gates, I spotted Dwight’s car winding up the street toward her house and knew she had other plans. He spotted me through the windshield and gave a wave. I waved back. I still really did not trust that guy.
But exploring my distrust toward Dwight at the moment didn’t seem prudent. What did was reading the article Jackson had written.
Nick’s was closed during the days now. Becky had made the decision to open the bar at four and no more lunch servings. I could understand the thought process. Nick’s never did get much of a lunch crowd, and so I am sure Joshua and his mother were looking at it from a financial perspective. However, I did wonder what they planned to do with the place. In the back of my mind w
as Simone’s mention of purchasing the bar.
There was a sandwich shop close by Nick’s and I decided to stop in and grab a bite. I wished I had Cass with me, but I didn’t want to take the time to go all the way home to read the article.
After ordering an iced tea and a turkey sandwich, I sat at a table outside and opened up The Hollywood Insider to Jackson’s article, which was titled, “A Bar of Secrets: Finding Closure on the Death of Nick Gordin.”
I gasped. What was Jackson up to?
After several weeks of the ongoing investigation into Nick Gordin’s murder, it would appear the police don’t have much interest in solving the case.
However, as a journalist, (I thought the guy was a screen writer) I decided to take a closer look at those who knew Nick Gordin best. And I discovered a nest of secrets at Nick’s bar. Of course, I can’t print actual names, but it won’t be difficult for readers to put two and two together.
The regulars at Nick’s are a peculiar bunch. They include a former wannabe starlet who was once engaged to Gordin and now goes by a different name. This woman is believed to know more about the night Roger Hawks died than she claims. Her sidekick may also know something. In fact, Hawks and Gordin cost him his right eye and his job as a stuntman.
A longtime friend of Gordin’s, from one of the most prestigious Hollywood families, appears to be on the verge of bankruptcy. Wonder what that’s all about and how it might tie into Gordin’s death? Was he talking about Bradley Verne? He had to be.
Then there is the pretty, part-time bartender, part-time singer at Nick’s who had high hopes of meeting a music producer through Gordin. Looks as though Gordin may have been holding out a carrot. I can’t help wondering if someone was holding a grudge.
Why would he write such a thing? How could he even think of me as a suspect? I set my iced tea down, missing the table. The glass crashed to the ground, splintering everywhere. The cold tea splattered across the legs of my jeans.
“Oh no!”
A waitress came outside to help me.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Hey, it happens.” She said, smiling and starting to clean up the mess.
I bent over to help when I heard my name. “Evie?”
I stood and saw Joshua. “Oh, hi!” I looked down at the waitress and then back at Joshua. I knew my cheeks were bright red.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted out and my cheeks burned even more. Wow. He was as good looking in the daylight as he was inside the bar. I, on the other hand, probably looked like a disaster. How embarrassing!
“My mom lives around the corner. I was taking Garbo here for a walk.”
I looked down and saw a very cute bulldog on the end of a leash. “She’s adorable! Is she yours?”
“My mom’s, but she’s taken a liking to me, and honestly, we needed to get out of the apartment. Living with my mom is stressing me out. And, it’s only been a couple of days!” He laughed and it was warm and nice. “I’m not used to being cooped up with my mother.”
“I’m sure. Africa vs. an L.A. apartment. Big difference.”
“Definitely a change,” he agreed.
The waitress smiled at Joshua, as taken with his good looks as every other female (and even a few males) in the nearby vicinity were. He smiled back. She shook her head, as if trying to clear it, and said she’d be right back with a fresh glass of iced tea. I thanked her and then was stumped for words as what to say next. I finally said, “Um, I’m having lunch. Want to join me?”
“Yeah sure. That would be nice. Come on, Garbo.” They came through the small gate and sat down at the table with me. Garbo lay down at Joshua’s feet.
I reached down to scratch her between her ears. “How old is she?”
“Only a year, but lazy already. But I think that comes with being a bulldog.” He laughed again.
The waitress brought my tea and took Joshua’s order.
“So, do you think you’ll stay here long term or are you considering returning to Africa?”
He shrugged. “Hard to say. After you left and we closed up last night, my mom told me the truth.”
“The truth?”
“I assume you already knew Nick was my father.” He grimaced. “Actually, I suspect a few people already knew and she had to tell me, otherwise someone else would.”
I didn’t like secrets, and I didn’t think it was right for her to keep something so huge from her son, so I was relieved she had done the right thing. She had redeemed herself in my eyes … for now.
“I did know, and I’m happy your mother told you. It was the right thing to do.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I love my mom and all, but this whole thing has been difficult. I’m kind of upset with her. I mean, I know she kept secrets from me because she loves me, but the kind of secrets she kept … well, I’m a grown man, and I wish she had more confidence in how well I’d take these things.”
“I think when it comes to family and friends—people you love—you have to find a way to forgive them, and your mom was only protecting you. I think that’s how she sees it.”
He nodded. “Maybe you’re right.” His green eyes sparkled as the overhead sun beat down on us.
“You don’t have to like what she did, but you do have to forgive her. She’s your mom and she’s family. That’s my two cents.”
“I know. Not easy though, and now I really wish I knew who killed Nick, especially in light of who he was to me. I wish I’d known him.” He stared at me intently. “What was he like?”
“He was a real decent guy. He was kind, and he loved to cook. He seemed to really care about people. As different as he was from my dad, I kind of saw him as a father figure.”
The waitress brought our sandwiches, and in-between bites, we chatted further. He was incredibly easy to talk to. Which is why, not long after, I did something I probably shouldn’t have. I invited him and Garbo over.
“Hey, you know, if she needs more exercise, why don’t you bring her to my place and let her play with my dog Cass some time?”
“Really? That would be great. What are you doing until we open?”
“Nothing really. I was heading home after lunch.”
My only real plan had been to finish reading the article Jackson had written, but I had to admit, Joshua’s company was a bit more desirable at the moment, and frankly, after what I considered a flat-out rejection by Lucas, maybe having a human man visit me in my home would be a good thing.
He gazed off into the street. “I really don’t want to go back to my mom’s place.”
“Well then, you can come with me, and if you can get a ride home from work, we can ride in together.”
“Great!” He signaled to the waitress for the check. Once we’d taken care of the bill, he stood, unwinding Garbo’s leash from the foot of his chair. “Come on, Garbo. It’s playdate time!”
Once he said date, I started to second-guess my impulse to invite him over. What if Lucas showed up? What would he think? Then again, why did it even matter what he thought? The reality was, this guy was now my co-worker, my boss at the bar, and maybe he could be a friend, too. I am allowed friends. Even very good looking ones.
I was further embarrassed by my van. I would have thought I’d gotten over it after driving Simone around and having her berate me about what a piece of crap it was. But although Joshua didn’t seem to mind at all, something about having him in my piece of crap van did make me feel a bit uneasy.
Back at my place, I took a good look around before letting Joshua too far into the house. No pot. No spirits. Just Cass and Mac. Happy to play with another dog, Cass bounced and twirled, taking off like a rocket along with Garbo, who, bless her heart, tried to keep up. Let’s just say bulldogs aren’t known for their speed or grace.
I took the paper with Jackson’s article out of my purse and set it on the kitchen table while Joshua played outside with the dogs. I wanted it to dry out so I could turn the page and finish the article without tearing it.
I grabbed two bottles of waters and some brownies I’d baked the day before. I glanced outside, and watching the dogs and Joshua put a smile on my face. As he bent over to hug Cass, those stupid butterflies swarmed in my stomach. The same kind I got when Lucas was around.
And that was when I heard someone say my name. “Evie?”
I snapped around and Lucas was in my kitchen next to the fridge, just a few feet from me.
“Lucas! You startled me!” I lowered my voice to a loud whisper. The last thing I needed was my new boss thinking I was schizo or something.
“I’m sorry.” He came closer. “Who’s the guy?” He nodded toward Joshua playing with the dogs. Cass, sensing him inside with me, bolted towards the back door.
“He’s a friend and my boss at the bar. His dog needed some exercise. I invited him over so Cass could play with a new friend.”
I could see Joshua coming toward the house. I didn’t want Lucas to leave, but I also didn’t really want him there. It would be awkward, to say the least, especially since I wouldn’t be able to even acknowledge Lucas while Joshua was in the house.
“He can’t see me,” he said, an amused look on his face. “A friend, huh?”
I nodded. “Yes. I can have friends.”
“Sure you can. Look, I don’t want to hang around and get in the way. I have some stuff to do anyway.”
“When will you come back? I need to talk to you. Thing is…” I looked sheepishly at my feet. “I’m sorry about last night.”
He waved a hand at me. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m the sorry one. I crossed a line with you, and I know better.”
I did not like what I was hearing.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he continued. “But don’t worry. It won’t be long. Just wanted to let you know I’m still working hard on getting information for you.” He held up one of the eagle feathers from my desk and then was gone. No goodbye. Nothing.
I turned around and Joshua was striding into the kitchen. I tried to pull myself together. I wondered why Lucas had one of my feathers? He hadn’t asked to take one. I knew, though, it had something to do with Hannah. I sighed, knowing now was not the time or the place for mulling over moody ghosts.