You've Got To Be Kitten: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Cozy Mystery

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You've Got To Be Kitten: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Cozy Mystery Page 12

by Corrine Winters


  “Darn it, Blair,” Ruby muttered. “Did you leave your phone charger or something?”

  She flung the blankets off of herself and slipped into a bathrobe as she walked toward the staircase. Ruby padded down the steps in her bare feet and threw the front door open.

  “John?” Ruby’s jaw dropped open. The thickly-muscled figure standing framed in the doorway was definitely Fiddler’s Cove’s police chief. His uniform was missing, however, replaced with plain black trousers and a turtleneck. An ebony sock cap covered his lightly curled hair. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  “One twenty-two AM,” he said with a grin. “Perfect time for some night fishing.”

  “Night fishing?” Ruby looked out the door at the rolling waves on the Sound. There were no boats she could see. “You came over here at this ungodly hour because you wanted to invite me to go night fishing with you?”

  Ruby sniffed the air pointedly. “And you’re not even drunk? Is this some kind of weird shifter courtship ritual I don’t understand or what?”

  John’s eyes went wide, and Ruby knew she’d shocked or scandalized him…perhaps both.

  “Ah…” John laughed anxiously. “Okay, granted, it’s probably strange for me to just turn up in the middle of the night dressed like this and ask you to go night fishing. But, let’s say, just hypothetically, that a certain Police Chief received a tip pointing to one Troy Malone meeting some interesting people off the coast tonight.”

  Ruby’s eyes went wide, and a little gasp escaped her lips.

  “And,” John went on to say “let’s also say, just hypothetically, that the county prosecutor had told this Chief of Police to stay well away from Malone in any professional capacity.”

  Ruby nodded sagely. She wasn’t surprised that Troy Malone’s name carried weight in Fiddler’s Cove’s governmental circles. The Malone bloodline went back generations in this town, and Troy’s uncle had been a state senator at one point.

  “I think I’m following you now, John.”

  “Good.” John licked his lips nervously. “But, if we go out night fishing on my boat, and we just happen, as private citizens, to see something untoward, well…”

  Ruby chuckled. “So, I’m your alibi, is that it? You couldn’t possibly have been on official police business because you’d taken me for a night fishing date?”

  “Well, yeah…” John scratched the back of his head.

  “Okay, I’m in.” Ruby sighed. “I’d never be able to get back to sleep now, anyway.”

  “Want to bring your kitties?”

  “No, I think I’ll let them stand guard and watch out for the apparition.”

  “Apparition?”

  “Long story. I’ll get dressed. I take it all black attire is required for night fishing?”

  “We don’t want to let the fish see us, do we?” John grinned.

  * * *

  “Just so long as you know, I’m a tad disappointed this isn’t a shifter courtship ritual.”

  John paused, and for a moment Ruby thought she’d gone too far. Then his face split in a mischievous grin.

  “I don’t recall saying at any time I was a shifter, Ms. Rivers.” He smiled. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”

  Ruby explained her upcoming absence to Rumpus and Rufus. Surprisingly, they weren’t too upset about not coming along.

  “If it involves water, we’re not interested.”

  “Rumpus don’t say things like that in front of Rufus. You know how impressionable he is.”

  Rufus looked between the two of them in confusion. “I thought that we shared Ruby’s hydromancy talent. Can’t we breathe water? Isn’t it impossible for us to drown or even get wet if we don’t want to?”

  “It’s the principle of the thing,” Rumpus said stubbornly. “Pure and simple. Poseidon was not a cat person, and that’s that.”

  “I kind of want to go,” Rufus said.

  “I think you’d best sit this one out, Rufus.” Ruby stroked her hand along his head. “I get the feeling John is on shaky legal ground with this operation. Who’s going to bail me out of jail if I get arrested if you’re on the boat with me?”

  “You’ve got a point.” Rufus said. “I’ll stay here with Rumpus.”

  “Hey, Rufus, want to claw the crap out of the curtains?”

  “You bet I do!”

  Ruby closed the door before she could see the horror unfold. Oh well, those curtains were kind of ugly, anyway…

  She walked down the ramp and found John had pulled up to place the passenger door right at the end. Ruby opened the door and slid inside.

  “That’s what you’re wearing?” John asked.

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  “Nothing, it’s just…I thought you’d wear pants.”

  “Yoga pants are pants, and what’s wrong with them? You said all black.”

  “Nothing, they’re just…tight.”

  “So?” Ruby cocked an eyebrow. “Am I distracting you with my dress, Chief? If so, it sounds like a you problem. I don’t need a man ‘policing’ my wardrobe choices, if you catch my drift.”

  John had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Alright, fair enough. I’m sorry. Sometimes I open my mouth and my father’s voice comes out.”

  John glanced her way, and she was surprised to see pain welling in his gaze. “My father was a traditionalist in…in a lot of ways. He went too far with it, which is why my mother left us.”

  “Your father abused your mother?”

  “Not physically, but the things he said were bad enough. She wasn’t allowed to make more money than him. He insisted she quit a couple of jobs.”

  “I’m sorry, John. I never knew.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s no excuse. I know better, so I ought to do better.” John glanced over at her. “The fact is, you look good, Ruby. You look good.”

  Ruby smiled. “You’re not looking so bad yourself, Chief Miller. Although, you know you drive the women in town crazy, right?”

  John laughed, redness coming to his cheeks as he drove toward the marina. “Oh, stop.”

  “It’s true. You’re handsome, successful, and a bachelor. That is to say, if you’re dating anyone you’re doing a good job of hiding it.”

  “I think, maybe, they should stop speculating about things that aren’t their business,” John huffed, his face twisting into a grimace.

  “Don’t be mad. They don’t mean any malice by it. Just…why haven’t you gotten married before now?”

  John pursed his lips, lapsing into silence as he considered whether to answer her question or not. She never thought for a moment he was trying to come up with a lie. There was something easy and earnest about everything John did.

  “Well, to be honest, there’s a potential conflict of interest with most of the people my age in town.” John said suddenly. “Roger Abernathy is not the only old money around Fiddler’s Cove with skeletons in their closet. It would be really awkward if I had to investigate my in-laws for a crime, now wouldn’t it?”

  “Okay,” Ruby said. “That sounds like a very well thought out reason, and it might even partially be true.”

  “Partially?”

  “Not that your angsty butt isn’t prone to trying to martyr yourself for the public good, but I think there’s more behind your bachelorhood, John.” Ruby shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put you on the spot—”

  “No, you’re right,” John said. “I guess I…don’t really get out much. There’s the bowling league I’m part of, but there’s not exactly a lot of women on the circuit around here. That and I’m always worried they won’t be able to understand me. My life is…complicated, Ruby.”

  “Because you’re a shifter?”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her, then returned his attention to the road. John pulled up to the marina parking lot and found a space. They walked through the darkened lot toward the dual rows of gently bobbing vessels.

  “You didn’t answer my
question,” Ruby pressed as they stepped onto the wooden pier. John slowed his stride even as he turned onto the gangplank of his pleasure fishing craft, the Albatross.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Hey.” Ruby grabbed his sleeve and he ground to a halt. “I’m sticking my neck out for you, here, and I think maybe I’ve earned a tiny bit of your trust. You said your life is complicated, and well…we seem to be, um, spending a lot of time together…look, just tell me, how complicated? In what ways?”

  John sighed. “Alright. I guess you deserve to know. The truth is, I’m not a shifter at all.”

  “Then what are you? You’re not a warlock, I don’t think. An Aelf like Trixie?”

  “Not either of those.”

  Ruby’s jaw dropped open as Chief John Miller told her his real identity.

  Twenty-One

  The moonlight-dappled waves slipped past John’s bow as the sports fishing boat slipped through Long Island Sound. John boasted over one-hundred-twenty square feet of deck space, but the craft struck Ruby as being on the smaller side. Uncle Ruckus’ aging yacht dwarfed John’s craft. Currently, the boat was in escrow. Ruby couldn’t touch it until the courts hashed out who it belonged to.

  Ruby stared at John’s broad back as he steered the craft. The lights of Fiddler’s Cove faded away, then vanished altogether as they entered deeper waters. If they kept going, they would eventually spy Long Island in the distance.

  “You’re quiet.”

  John’s baritone disturbed her thoughtful reverie.

  “Well, it’s not every day that a man tells you he’s the heir to an undersea kingdom, and not even half human.”

  John turned the boat’s engines off and turned to regard her, his jaw working silently. “You see now why I don’t really date much. You’re a witch and you can’t handle it.”

  Ruby frowned. “I didn’t say I couldn’t handle it. I was stating a fact. I’ve never met a merman before.”

  “Our kind was here long before man descended from the trees, Ruby. At times, our peoples have been at peace…and at others, we were at war.”

  “And now?”

  John smiled. “Peace brought on by blissful ignorance. A few centuries ago, we chose to withdraw from the world. We didn’t want to be enemies or friends to humanity, or even to the world of magical beings like ourselves. We simply didn’t want to exist.”

  “Sounds xenophobic to me.” Ruby leaned back in her chair as they drifted on dark waters. She could sense the various currents around them, swirling and battling for dominance. Ruby knew exactly where on the coastline she would end up if the boat were simply allowed to drift without really having to think about it.

  “It was.”

  “How’d it work out for you?”

  “Not well. We thought, if we retreated from the world, it would put an end to warfare and strife. Instead, we killed each other in endless civil wars. The monarchy was deposed a generation before my own.”

  “How did you end up in Fiddler’s Cove, then?”

  John sighed, casting his gaze out over the Sound. “I was raised by my human mother on land, never knowing what I truly was. I didn’t find out until shortly after my fifteenth birthday.”

  “No wonder you were so moody and withdrawn.”

  “It was a lot for a kid to take in, sure. I got over it, though.”

  “Have you ever thought about trying to find your people?”

  “No,” he said in a flat tone. “As royalty, my life would be worthless in the Undersea Realm. Besides, they don’t care about me, so why should I care about them? I prefer life on land, but my heritage can sometimes prove useful. Like tonight.”

  “Is that what we’re doing out here?” Ruby gestured out into the moonlit seascape. “You want me to, what, guard your boat while you swim around in fishy form?”

  “Yes, but I also want you as backup in case I get into trouble. My jurisdiction ends about a hundred feet off the coastline. Out here, my position as a Chief of Police won’t protect me. In fact, it’s a hindrance.”

  “Why me?”

  John sighed. “Honestly, the main consideration is that you’re likely to keep my secret.”

  Ruby nodded. “Because you know mine. In other words, I won’t tell people you’re merfolk because, then, you might tell them I’m a witch, yes?”

  John pursed his lips, eyes swimming with trouble. “I have to admit, the fact that you’re a Water Witch makes you a particularly valuable ally in this situation.”

  “Yes, that’s me, Mistress of the Seven Seas.” Ruby got the feeling he still held something back. “Is that it?”

  “No.” John gave her a sheepish grin. “We kind of click, so I thought it would be nice to have someone to talk to while we sit out here waiting for our friends to arrive.”

  Ruby cocked an eyebrow. “By ‘our friends’, you mean Troy Malone, right?”

  “Right. I’ve got an informant who says these are roughly the coordinates his yacht stops at once a week around this time of morning.”

  “An informant? Someone on Malone’s staff?”

  “Nah. A pod of whales that have taken a shine to me.”

  Ruby glanced at him sharply. She couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. “So, we click, do we?”

  For the first time, John looked truly uncomfortable. “Ah, well, that’s just my opinion and all.”

  “Relax, John. We do kind of click.” Ruby sighed. “I guess a witch and a merman can be friends.”

  “Friends?” John swallowed hard, his gaze darting up and down her form. “You want to be friends?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Ruby’s gaze drew inexorably to John’s full, expressive lips. She couldn’t help imagining how they felt, how they tasted…

  “Nothing’s wrong, but…”

  His voice trailed off, sending Ruby’s mind off into a tizzy of anxious speculation. But what? What are you trying to say? That you’re not satisfied with our friendship? Does that mean you just don’t like me at all, or that you LIKE me like me and want…more than friendship? Why do I feel like I’m back in high school again? I’m a full-grown, middle-aged woman.

  When the sound of an engine in the darkness burst the long, pregnant pause, Ruby wasn’t sure if she should be grateful or outraged. At least the agonizing moment had ended.

  “That could be him.” John dug out a pair of night vision binoculars and peered out over the low waves. “Yeah…twenty-three meter white Astrape. It’s Malone, alright.”

  Ruby peered out over the waves, spotting its running lights as it slipped across the Sound. The yacht’s engines labored, churning up froth in its wake as it slowed to a halt.

  “I see it, too. Can they see us?”

  “We’re not putting out any light, so, hopefully not.” John set the binoculars down and slipped off his shirt.

  “Whoa, what are you doing?” Ruby gaped as the shirt fell onto the deck. Jon proved as ripped as she’d imagined him to be, looking like an Olympic heavyweight wrestler. He tugged down his trousers and she turned away. “Oh my god, you’re stripping!”

  “Sorry, I should have warned you. Got to get in the water before the second craft shows up.”

  She heard a splash, then turned around to find John vanished. Only his piled-up clothing suggested he had ever been present.

  Ruby peered anxiously out over the water. She couldn’t see anything with her normal vision, so she allowed her eyes to switch over to the aquatic spectrum. Suddenly the sea was aglow with different life forms. Hazy blue auras represented algae, while larger creatures glowed in bright reds, oranges, and whites.

  A sleek, speeding form like a torpedo glowed white hot. John, maybe? She couldn’t be certain, but it seemed likely.

  She extended her senses, feeling the second vessel churning through the waves. A blocky, rusted hull appeared near the yacht, looking like a wall cutting through the water. Ruby could ‘see’ the cargo being offloaded in the way the rusted ship rode ever lower in the water, while Ma
lone’s Yacht sank ever deeper.

  Ruby could also tell the exact moment John slipped out of the water and onto the deck of the yacht. After that, she could only guess as to his whereabouts.

  “Come on, come on,” Ruby said as the tense minutes ticked by. “Whatever you’re going to do, John, hurry up and do it.”

  Her mind still reeled from his confession. A merman. A merman cop. It sounded like the premise for a bad 1980s detective show. Yet, there was something that seemed right about it. Now that she knew, she couldn’t picture John any other way.

  The rusted wall now rode high in the water. It puttered about in a slow, lazy circle and then sped away toward Long Island. Malone’s yacht fired up its engines and began slipping through the water toward the open sea.

  “No, no, no,” Ruby said. “Not good. Not good!”

  Ruby leaped into the driver’s seat and started up the boat. She pushed the twin outboard engines to their max, but the yacht had four of them. It began to slip away from her.

  Ruby spied a low, wooded island a few clicks to the west. She focused her Talent and began driving larger and larger waves into the yacht even as she angled for the island herself.

  Once she dropped anchor in a sheltered alcove of the island, she could better judge its size. It was maybe as long and wide as a decent-sized department store parking lot. She turned toward the wave-beleaguered yacht. The pilot was stubborn and sought to continue his passage to the open Atlantic.

  “Well, we can’t have that,” Ruby muttered. Her eyes glowed green as she linked her mind to the rolling waves. The water gathered against the hull in the shape of a grasping hand. Ruby moved her arm in front of her, and the wave mimicked the motion in large scale. The unnatural hump of water swept high onto the island and safely deposited the yacht in the scrub brush as the wave receded back into the Sound.

  “Well, we’re in it now, aren’t we?” Ruby muttered. She wished Rumpus and Rufus had come along, now.

  She steeled herself and stepped off the side of the boat. A wave surged up and caught her like an escalator step. Ruby rode the wave toward the rocky shore. She hoped to find John soon.

 

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