Otherworldly [McKnight, Perth & Daire 1] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Beth D. Carter

  Her high school boyfriend, Tucker, had been sweet and had made her first time as special as it could be. Sex had always been a pleasant diversion. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to Jonas Daire’s kiss. He tasted of tomatoes and oregano, of wine and pure male spice. He was rapture and delight all rolled into one hot package.

  There was no hesitation with Jonas. He kissed as if he knew what he wanted, and she had become his main course tonight. Heat spread through her like a blast of hot wind. Never before had need overwhelmed her to the brink of tossing out all her senses, to pull him into her until they both lost themselves in the rampant lust sweeping over them.

  One sliver of sanity remained, and she yanked it to her with everything she had, using it to break the kiss. Though every fiber of her being was calling out to rush back into his arms, she held on to the thought that they had just met to hold him at bay.

  “I, ah, I can’t,” she managed to say, clearing her throat. “I shouldn’t.”

  “Right,” he immediately replied. “Of course. Yes, I, um…shower.”

  And he turned on his heels and left her standing alone, aching with want and a table full of dirty dishes.

  * * * *

  God! What am I thinking!

  Jonas practically kicked himself as he shut the door to his bedroom. He paced back and forth as the last few minutes played over in his mind. He’d always been a logical, cautious man. His focus and dedication was what got him through college and through police training with honors. One thing he always thought was that he had to see to believe, and now that he was a believer he couldn’t stop all the irrational behavior toward Charlotte.

  She brought out some disturbing feelings in him, ones he’d never experienced before. He reached down to adjust his hard-on, which strained against the zipper. She made him angry, horny, and confused, all at the same time. She also brought out his protective streak, which was an A-plus for a cop but hell on his reasoning skills.

  And on top of that, guilt cascaded through him, because how could he even think of sex now that Zach lay cold in a morgue? How could he sit there, flirting and eating spaghetti while his cousin, his best friend, was gone? A…ghost.

  That thought alone was enough to kill his libido, so he headed off to the shower.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning couldn’t come fast enough. The bed might have been comfortable, but she wouldn’t have been able to tell for all the tossing and turning she did through the night. The kiss, the passion, the what-if that had existed between them at dinner replayed through her mind until it just about drove her crazy.

  When she heard Jonas emerge from his bedroom sometime after dawn, she rose as well, grabbing some clothes and her toiletry bag and heading for the bathroom. The shower was nice and hot, the pressure strong enough to massage her shoulders. She washed her hair, taking extra care for her appearance, which looked somewhere between sexually frustrated and zombie apocalypse. Sleeplessness did not agree with her.

  About an hour later she walked downstairs to the wonderful smell of pancakes, eggs, and coffee. Jonas stood at the stove, dressed in jeans and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up. He turned when he heard her.

  How dare he look like he slept like a baby!

  “Thanks for doing the dishes last night,” he said.

  She nodded. “It gave me something to do.”

  He stared at her for a moment longer, as if gauging the accuracy of her words, before turning back to the stove. “I’m just about finished with the pancakes. The bacon is in the oven.”

  “I’ll set the table.”

  The easy banter from yesterday seemed to have fled under the sexual tension hanging between them. Charlotte set the table robotically, because her attention stayed firmly focused on the man working in the kitchen. He came out a moment later with a plate of food in both hands.

  “Smells good,” she said.

  “Want coffee?”

  “Please.”

  When he walked back into the kitchen, her eyes followed him. She feverishly hoped that their stilted conversation wasn’t permanent. She might be leaving today, but she wanted Jonas to remember her fondly.

  Why?

  She had no idea why. Well, she did have an idea. Actually, she knew, there really wasn’t any need to pretend or hide from her internal little voice. Jonas Daire fascinated her. He turned her on, and she’d never had such interesting conversations with a man in all her life. Had she been home in Santa Fe, and had his Aunt Alice not been a client, then she would have loved to pursue something more. Unfortunately, Alecia Falls lay about fourteen hundred miles away from reality.

  He walked back with the coffee pot and filled each cup before setting it aside. He moved her chair back and gestured for her to sit. As she did so, he slid her forward before taking his own seat.

  “Charlotte, I wanted to say that I’m—”

  “I’m not,” she interrupted.

  “Not what?” he asked, sounding confused.

  “Sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “For the kiss.”

  “Oh. I wasn’t going to apologize for the kiss.”

  “You weren’t?”

  He shook his head. “I thought the kiss was great.”

  “You did?”

  He smiled at her, and she felt the awful tension between them crack and fall apart.

  “Me, too,” she said.

  “I hope you didn’t feel pressured about it.”

  “No. And I want you to know that I’ve never done that with a client before. Or, I guess you’re the client’s family. Nephew. Family or client or even a friend of client, I should point out—”

  “Charlotte,” he interrupted. “Focus.”

  “Right. So what did you want to say?”

  He took a deep breath. “I don’t believe fully in the world of paranormal activity, but I believe in you. Thank you for helping me and Aunt Alice find Zach.”

  “You’re welcome, Jonas.”

  She smiled, and a warm, happy glow ignited inside and radiated outward. She grabbed a pancake and some bacon and began to eat with renewed hunger. Through the meal, she snuck glances over to Jonas, and saw that he did the same. The happy glow inside grew bigger.

  “I figured we’ll run by Zach’s apartment first,” he said as he pushed his empty plate away. “Then the precinct to get your statement before I take you to get your car.”

  “All right,” she said and sipped her coffee. “Have you heard anything about Zach’s case?”

  He shook his head. “When he disappeared the apartment was searched, people were questioned, but nothing panned out. It was a missing person, and for all the law knows, he could have up and left Alecia Falls. Now that it’s a homicide, the investigation will change, which is why I want to hit his apartment one more time before the crime tape goes up.”

  “Will you be lead?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll ask my lieutenant today who’ll get it. I’m hoping my partner, because I know he won’t stop until we apprehend who did this.”

  She took his hand, and he squeezed back. “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah, let’s get going.”

  Chapter Seven

  He pulled up to a very nondescript apartment building. The overcast sky lent a drab, gray sheen to it, highlighting the half built with brick, or at least brick veneer, and the other half built with aluminum siding. The pale, white washed color gave the entire property a bland, generic look. Jonas drove around to the back of the spacious grounds and numbers rentals. He pulled into a parking spot and pointed to a second floor balcony.

  “That’s his place.”

  “You know if I walk in there I’m going to get a hit,” she stated.

  He only cocked his eyebrow at her, so she threw up her hand and waved him on. He helped her out of the passenger side and then led the way up the outside staircase. Jonas was incorrect about when the crime tape would go up. The door was marked with yellow tape designating the words “
Crime Scene” in bold black, and a cop was stationed outside the door. Jonas flashed his badge, and the cop allowed them inside.

  As soon as she crossed over the threshold she felt the pull deep in her belly. Zach was here. But she held him off as she took in the décor of the apartment. Standard off-white walls, ugly beige carpet, and nondescript kitchen cabinets greeted her. Zach had decorated like a typical bachelor, with a black leather couch, a leather ottoman, and a huge flat-screen television. Other than a few dirty dishes that still littered in the sink, the kitchen was clean. An ordinary table with four chairs held a few old newspapers. A corkboard was on the wall near the telephone, and Charlotte saw several notes written in Zach’s handwriting. One reminded him of an upcoming dental visit, and seeing that little detail broke her heart.

  “Jonas, what did Zach do for a living?”

  “He worked in the coroner’s office.”

  “Doctor?”

  “No. He is…was…in the forensic science lab. Why?”

  “Just trying to get a sense of who he was. I’ve never had to do that before. My involvement usually ends when the body is found.”

  She felt a pull leading her toward the hallway and bedroom and she followed it. The bedroom was just as plainly decorated as the rest of the apartment. The bed had a dark blue comforter neatly made. The dresser had a large mirror, and the pull in her belly drew her to it.

  As she stared in the mirror, her image blurred, just for a fraction of a second. When it cleared, she saw her own eyes looking down. Charlotte followed the downward gaze to the small area where the mirror and dresser had a tiny separation.

  “Jonas, can you move the dresser?”

  “Okay,” he said without missing a beat. He walked over to one end and lifted, shifting the dresser out far enough to allow Charlotte to walk behind it. She ran her hand over the rug but didn’t find anything. As she glanced at the back of the dresser, she spotted an earring caught in the groves at the back. It was a stud with a diamond, small, which was probably why it hadn’t been found.

  “Jonas, look at this,” she said.

  Jonas came to stand behind her. He took out his phone and snapped a photo.

  “It’s too small to get a print,” he said. “Still, it might have DNA. Let me get a sandwich bag.”

  When he left her side the temptation was too much to handle. She reached out and plucked the earring from where it rested, closed her fist around it, and called out to Zach.

  When she opened her eyes, she saw herself in the black dress and the Louboutin shoes, and she stood in front of the mirror trying to put the earring into the hole in her left ear. In the mirror, Zach came up and swatted her on the rear, causing her to drop it. She turned, frowning at him.

  “So who am I, Zach?” she asked him.

  Zach smiled, blew her a kiss, and opened his arms. Once again, like her other vision, her body responded as if playing out the events that had already happened. She walked over to him and curled her arms around him, hugging him. Zach leaned down and nuzzled her neck. Her body warmed, as if remembering his touch, but her heart chilled at the thought that a ghost was touching her so intimately.

  Zach pulled back, pulled her toward the bed, and she went willingly. He sat down on the edge, on top of the navy blue comforter, and guided her between his legs. He started kissing her, his mouth hot and insistent on hers. His hand slipped between her thighs, tracing the skin upward until he found her pussy, throbbing now for more. His fingers skimmed under her panties, testing her wetness before plunging in and bumping against her clit.

  “Stop,” she gasped when his lips left hers. Though she wanted to pull away, some greater force at work prevented her. The vision was quickly spiraling out of control. “Oh, stop, please, before I—”

  And then she felt her hand opening, and a second later the vision ended. Charlotte opened her eyes and discovered herself sprawled on the bed. Jonas had taken the earring from her hand, ending the connection to the past.

  “Dammit, Charlotte!” Jonas said with a touch of growl underlining his words. “Why the hell did you touch this?”

  He held up the plastic sandwich bag that now held the earring.

  Charlotte scrambled up from the bed and pulled her shirt down. Heat engulfed her face but she refused to back down. “Someone was pulling me to that earring.”

  “Zach?”

  “Yes, but…I suppose. Jonas?”

  “What?”

  “Who was Zach’s girlfriend?”

  “He didn’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Oh, yes he did. Or at least, he had a friend with benefits.” She pointed to the bed. “You should take that comforter and have it tested for vaginal secretions.”

  “Oh please, no. I don’t want to think about you, vaginal secretions, and Zach in the same point of reference, especially considering how you were moving on that comforter—”

  “Let’s try to erase that from both our minds, shall we?”

  Jonas shot her a pointed look but wisely refrained from comment. “He never told me about a girlfriend. What did she look like?”

  “That’s the problem,” she said. “For some reason I haven’t seen her face. In the visions, I am her. This is the second time I’ve interacted as this woman, wearing the black dress and the shoes.”

  “The same as the night I met him?”

  “Yes.”

  “So this means she and Zach met up the night he died. I may not have been the last person to see him alive.”

  “If he’d been hiding the relationship, maybe that’s what caused his death.”

  “Only a few reasons to hide a relationship and at the top of the list is a married woman,” Jonas reasoned. “Plus, it’s the oldest motive in the book for murder. So the woman’s not dead?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered hesitantly. “Only Zach came through with the earring, but I can’t be sure.”

  “All right. Let’s get to the precinct so I can get your testimony and look into this.” He held up the sandwich bag.

  A few minutes later Jonas held open the passenger door as she sat down. The door closed with a click. He slid in at the driver’s seat and started the engine.

  “Does anyone travel with you when you go off looking for dead people?”

  She shook her head. “No. All my family, except for my sister Holly and her husband, thinks I’m in property consulting.”

  “You’re saying that your own family doesn’t know what you do?”

  “This isn’t exactly a profession one can boast about.”

  “Then why do it?”

  “Because I can help people. So maybe what happened to me was for a reason.”

  He stayed silent for a few minutes. “One day I hope you’ll tell me what happened.”

  She glanced at him. “Maybe one day I will.”

  * * * *

  “Just sit here while I boot up my computer,” Jonas said and held the back of the chair as he gestured with his other hand. “I’ll be right back. I want to talk to my lieutenant.”

  Charlotte sat and placed her purse by her feet. While he was gone, she glanced around the office. It was Saturday and only a handful of people worked, leaving much of the room empty. His desk faced another desk, his partner’s, she reasoned. A framed photo rested in a corner of the other desk of a pretty young woman.

  A moment later, Jonas slid into the chair and smiled at her. As he worked, she stared at him, admiring the strong line of his shoulders and the clean definition of his jaw. She’d met many people in her decade of ghost working, handsome men. But no one had ever captivated her like Jonas Daire, and she didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he listened to her, even though he didn’t really know what to make of her. They were able to talk and joke easily, as if they’d known each other for years instead of just a day and some odd hours.

  “Okay,” Jonas said, his attention focused on his monitor. “Start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

  Charlotte told her story, but it didn
’t take long since not much happened. Still, it gave her an excuse to spend more time with Jonas before she hopped on a plane to head back to New Mexico.

  “Jonas,” a new voice said. Charlotte looked up to see the good-looking Hispanic man from the crime scene yesterday. He was staring at Jonas with a mixture of sorrow, concern, and steely resolve. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m working.”

  “The lieutenant told you to go home.”

  “Yesterday. Today I came back to work.”

  “Can I have a word with you?”

  Jonas shot Charlotte a quick look before giving a nod. The Hispanic detective escorted him to an empty interrogation room, and though he pushed the door closed, it didn’t click completely shut.

  Charlotte looked around to make sure no one was looking at her, and then she casually walked over and stood next to the barely open door. Though the voices were low, she was able to hear the conversation clearly.

  * * * *

  Degas walked in after him and pushed the door closed, although it didn’t shut completely, and after a second he saw the flash of hair right outside. He knew Charlotte wouldn’t be able to resist.

  “What are you doing, Jonas?”

  He eyed his partner, wondering how much he could say. “Come on. If you were in my shoes what would you do, Degas?”

  Degas paused, staring at him. Jonas didn’t blink, didn’t flinch, and sure as hell didn’t fidget under the stare that only a homicide cop could deliver.

  “You will not compromise this investigation, got it?” Degas demanded. “That means you don’t touch evidence, you don’t question suspects, and hell, you don’t even breathe on my coffee.”

  Jonas lifted one brow. “When did you grow a pair, partner?”

  “Shut it, Jonas. I got assigned lead on this case, and though Zach may not have been a cop, he was one of us. There’s not a man sitting out there that won’t bust his balls to find this fuck, so don’t give me your lip.”