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

by Beth D. Carter

  Jonas instantly felt contrite. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Hell, I’m sorry. I feel like a steamroller has been on my chest since they found him.”

  “You know how this works. We process whatever evidence we collected, Roozie gives us his findings, we question people, and we hunt down leads. There are protocols for a reason, Jonas, and I don’t want some fucking bureaucrat coming in when we find this mother fucker getting him or her off on a technicality.”

  “I know. Hell, I know, Degas.”

  “Then trust me,” his partner pleaded.

  Jonas didn’t know if he could completely let it go, but to please Degas he gave a stiff nod. This case was too important, too close to his heart, and all his instincts were to screaming at him to dive into tracking a killer. But he wasn’t sure if that was his cop side talking or his heart.

  Degas opened the door to leave, and Charlotte’s voice snapped him back to the present.

  * * * *

  Before Charlotte could move, the door was yanked open. She took a step back and flashed a nervous smile at Degas the detective.

  “I dropped my, um—oh, there it is!” she exclaimed, stooping to pick up the piece of nothing she had pretended to drop.

  Degas headed back to his desk without a word to her. Jonas came out then, running a hand through his hair in an obvious frustrated gesture. When he saw her, he stopped.

  “Hey, let me introduce you to my partner,” he said.

  “I don’t think he’s in the mood,” she whispered.

  “It’s just finding Zach like that,” he replied. “We were all friends.”

  He put his hand on her lower back and escorted her back to his desk. Degas glanced up at them.

  “Charlotte, this is my partner, Degas Villarosa. Degas, this is Charlotte Perth from Santa Fe.”

  “Hi,” she said.

  “We finally meet,” he said. “I saw you at the…I saw you yesterday.”

  “Yes,” she said and then fell silent because the last thing she wanted to discuss was how Zach had been found.

  “So what brings you to our fair, yet wet, city?”

  Charlotte opened her mouth, but Jonas beat her to the answer. “She’s friends with my aunt,” he replied. “She came out to lend support over Zach.”

  “Then I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances,” Degas said.

  “Alecia Falls certainly is beautiful,” she replied rather blandly.

  Degas frowned and glanced down before reaching into his pants to pull out his phone.

  “Excuse me,” he said and then hit the talk button on his phone, half turning away. “Hey, babe. Okay. Just be careful. My love to your mom.”

  He hung up and caught her watching him.

  “My wife,” he said and slipped his phone back in his pocket.

  “Is she back from vacation?” Jonas asked.

  “Yeah, came back a week ago, but her mom fell ill, so she went to Seattle to take care of her.”

  “Sorry, man,” Jonas replied sincerely. “Is it bad?”

  Degas sighed. “I hope not. My wife and mother-in-law are close.”

  “If you need anything, let me know,” Jonas offered.

  Degas nodded. “Thanks.”

  Jonas finished typing. “All right, Charlotte. I’ve got everything I need.”

  She stood and picked up her purse. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Villarosa.”

  Jonas’s partner held out his hand. “Degas, please. I’m not really the asshole you think I am. I just…can’t believe this has happened.”

  The moment that Charlotte took his hand, cold washed through her body, and she felt a tug deep in her belly. Immediately, she pulled her hand free and the feeling dissipated. The cold, however, remained.

  “Charlotte?” Jonas asked.

  She shook her head and took a deep breath. “Low blood sugar,” she murmured.

  “Right,” he said and took her elbow. “Come on. I know a great sub shop nearby.”

  Charlotte let Jonas lead her from the room. She couldn’t look back at Degas, though she felt his stare. Once outside, Jonas stopped her and turned her so he could into her eyes.

  “What happened?”

  “How do you know anything happened?”

  “You look like you did yesterday, in my aunt’s house.”

  “Right,” Charlotte said and rubbed her arms. “There’s a spirit attached to your partner.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t call it forth. But it wanted to be known, Jonas.”

  “Degas has been a cop for fifteen years,” Jonas reminded her.

  “No, that’s not it. Spirits attach themselves to personal belongings, not to some stranger. So this spirit considers Degas as his and it was insistent. Almost…angry.”

  “Angry at Degas?”

  “Maybe,” she replied. She thought for a moment. “Wait. He said his wife has been gone for a while?”

  “She went on a girls’ vacation to Hawaii a couple of weeks ago,” Jonas said.

  “And now her mother is sick. Has anyone actually seen her recently?”

  “Stop right there. There’s no way he’d hurt Rita. Or Zach.”

  “Even if she was cheating on him with Zach? I’m just saying it’s awfully coincidental that we find out Zach has a potentially married girlfriend at the same time a married woman hasn’t been seen in weeks.”

  “Long shot, Miss Perth.”

  “And sometimes you have to think outside the box, Detective Daire.”

  He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Okay, okay,” she conceded. “Anyway, until I call forth the spirit then I can’t tell you one way or another. How’s that? I have no way of knowing how long the spirit has been attached to him. Well, you know what this means, right?”

  “What does what mean? When I’m around you everything I thought I knew doesn’t make sense anymore.”

  “Yes, I get that a lot. This means I have to change my flight. Is your room still available?”

  Chapter Eight

  As he drove to the hotel for her to pick up her car, she got on the phone and made calls to the airline and auto rental. She knew she needed to phone Holly, but she wasn’t about to do that with Jonas in earshot. There were some private questions she wanted to ask her big sis.

  He pulled into the parking lot, and the first thing she noticed was that the screens on the window had been repaired. The second thing she noticed was a large splat of bird poop on the hood of the black sedan.

  “That’s so gross,” she said.

  “That’s what happens when you park under a tree,” Jonas pointed out.

  “So you’d rather your paint fried in the sun?”

  “It’s the Pacific Northwest. We don’t get too many heat waves.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  As if to prove his point, rain began to fall. He shot her a look that said see?

  “I hope that will wash off the poop,” she replied with a sniff.

  He smiled. His teeth were bright white against his tan skin.

  “Listen,” he said. “Let’s grab a bite to eat before I head back to work. There’s a small diner not too far away on Forty-First and Decker that serves really great food.”

  “Yeah, I’m aware of it,” she replied, biting her bottom lip.

  “Meet me there?”

  She gave him two thumbs up.

  He followed her to the diner, pulling into the parking lot next to her. They dashed quickly through the rain and into the diner, Jonas’s hand on her lower back to guide her. It felt large and warm even through her clothes, and it sent all sorts of wicked thoughts through her imagination.

  Only a few people were inside, an older couple smiling over coffee and three people that looked like they were better suited for a heavy metal concert. Jonas guided her to the bar, and they sat at the counter where the waitress smiled at them.

  “Coffee?” she asked.

  Jonas and Charlotte nodded, and a second later
each had their own steaming cup of caffeine. Charlotte proceeded to put a large dose of milk in the dark brew, as well as four spoonfuls of sugar.

  “Sweet tooth?”

  “It’s Saturday, my day for splurging.”

  “And the other six days?”

  “No sugar, no milk, and no fun.” She puffed out her bottom lip to pout a little. “Anyway, to say thanks for letting me stay at your place, how about I cook us dinner tonight?”

  “I never turn down a home-cooked meal.”

  “Great, ’cause I can cook a mean baked chicken.”

  He leaned down to her ear. “Is it plump and juicy?”

  Her breath hitched. As coyly as she could, she turned her head to peep at him from under her lashes. “Dripping. Ready to be sucked and nibbled on.”

  He raised a brow as a smile toyed at the edges of his mouth. “I’ve been starving.”

  “Have you? Long?”

  “Mm. And it’s very hard. To find good chicken, I mean.”

  Her heart just about exploded out of her chest from his words, and every drop of blood in her body heated to a near boiling point. She instantly went wet at the implication and had a hard time focusing when all she could envision was having his hard cock sink into her. She licked her lips and heard his low groan.

  “Don’t do that again or I’ll have to kiss you, right here, in front of all these people,” he whispered into her ear. “And I’d make love to your mouth, Charlotte, while everyone watched. I’d bend you over this chair and ravage your mouth like I’d like to ravage your body.”

  He reached up and traced the line of her neck with his knuckles, sending sparks over her skin. Breathing suddenly became too much to handle. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his warm fingers as they traced the curve of her chin, the delicate plain of her cheek, and the arch of her brow.

  She turned her head to look into his eyes, their dark depths pulling her toward him. She leaned forward just as he leaned down.

  “What’ll it be?” asked the waitress.

  Charlotte practically jumped out of her seat as reality rushed back to her. She blinked at the waitress, lost for a second and scrambling to remember what it was she wanted to order.

  “We’ll have the special with a bowl of vegetable soup,” Jonas ordered smoothly, sliding away from Charlotte as if the waitress hadn’t interrupted something very interesting. “Is that all right with you?”

  Charlotte blinked at him and nodded, though she didn’t recall what the special had been. The waitress nodded and walked away to deliver the ticket.

  Jonas glanced at her, a devilish smile quirking his lips.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said and jumped from her stool.

  Charlotte slipped into the bathroom, checked to make sure she was alone, and then went into a stall and locked the door. Then she pulled out her cell phone and called her sister.

  “Hey,” Holly greeted. “Are you on your way home?”

  “No, new development,” Charlotte whispered.

  “Why are you whispering?” Holly whispered back.

  “I’m in a bathroom stall,” Charlotte said. “Why are you whispering?”

  There was a slight pause. “I don’t know,” she finally said in her normal voice. “Why did you call me from the bathroom, or do I want to know?”

  “What’s the protocol for sleeping with someone you just met?”

  “To not to.”

  “Holly.”

  “What? You’ve been in Alecia Falls for two days and you want to have sex with someone? That just screams regret in the morning.”

  “But I’ve never felt like this before,” Charlotte told her, trying very hard to keep the whine out of her voice.

  “Honey, we’ve all had those feelings,” Holly said with a mixture of pity and hard-hearted worldliness. “You meet someone, electricity sizzles, and you end up following your hormones instead of your head. The next morning you’re doing the walk of shame.”

  “That’s the problem, though! I can’t get him out of my head.”

  “Listen, just get on the plane and I promise you—”

  “Oh, that’s the other thing. There’s another spirit.”

  “You found another client? I haven’t sent out the paperwork, Charlotte. Who—”

  “Same client. Well, same family client. Actually, it might be same spirit but with another ghost.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “When you can’t even explain it logically do I even want to know?”

  “No charge for this one, Holly. It’s for Jonas.”

  “Jonas? The man you want to have sex with?”

  “Actually,” Charlotte said, trying to inject a sliver of decorum into her voice, “he’s the detective on the case, and Zach’s cousin.”

  There was another slight pause. “And the man you want to have sex with. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Charlotte sighed. “All right, yes. Yes. The man I want to have sex with. Are you happy?” At that moment the bathroom door opened, and Charlotte lowered her voice. “Wait a sec.”

  The person came in to wash her hands and a second later, exited the bathroom.

  “All right. I’m alone again.”

  “Is this all you’ve called me for?”

  “I needed advice from my big sis.”

  “Ah. That’s sweet. Now, what do you really want?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Okay.”

  They didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

  “Well, if you’re asking,” Charlotte continued, “can you have Al check on someone for me? Someone alive this time. Or least I think she’s alive.”

  “You’re giving me a migraine, Lottie, do you know that?”

  “Just take your frickin’ happy pill and tell me you can help me.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Rita Villarosa. Her mother lives in Seattle, who might be sick. Rita is the wife of Detective Degas Villarosa of Alecia Falls.”

  “No name of Rita’s mother?”

  “Be lucky I got the daughter’s name.”

  “I swear to god, Lottie, I’m going to tell Mom all about you!”

  “Holly!” Charlotte gasped, feeling hurt. “That’s not fair. You’re my sister. And my lawyer. But mainly my sister.”

  Holly groaned. “Of course I’m kidding. Client confidentiality, remember?”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  “No, silly bug.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you, too. When do you expect to return to Santa Fe?”

  “Not sure. So when can you have Al run that background check? Today?”

  “Can’t your detective do that for you?”

  “My detective can do many things for me, and hopefully to me. However, I want to check this out on my own.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not sure what visions I’m getting, and I want to make sure I’m not stepping over a fine line. Degas is Jonas’s partner, and he insists Degas wouldn’t hurt Rita.”

  “I’m not having Alastair abuse his authority without justification, Lottie.”

  “All right. Geez. Zach was having an affair with a married woman, who I think was Rita. She has been absent for a few weeks. Degas has a spirit attached to him, and I want to make sure I have certain facts before I start jumping to conclusions.”

  “Sounds like you’re already there.”

  “Let me rephrase. Before I jump to opening my mouth and inserting my foot.”

  “I’ll talk to Alastair.”

  “You’re the best sister ever.”

  “You presented a good defense, Lottie. And I’m just a lawyer.”

  “Oh, please! You’re like the love child of Wonder Woman and Batman.”

  And again, there was another short pause. “Don’t sleep with Jonas. Good-bye, Lottie.”

  The line went dead. Charlotte stuck her tongue out at her phone before pocketing it.

  Chapter Nine
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br />   The rest of lunch passed, though not without little brushes of intimacy between them. He’d brush some crumbs from the side of her mouth, and she’d wipe a bit of ketchup from his lips. Their fingers constantly seemed to meet. After lunch, Charlotte left the diner, knowing something would happen that night. The chemistry between her and Jonas sizzled too much.

  Before she drove away, he slipped her his house key. She waved at Jonas as she pulled out of the parking lot, turning her car toward the home of Alice Braddock-Masters. The matron lived a few miles out of town, along the rolling sweep of forest and towering timbers. A mob of people stood outside the closed gates. As she pulled up, flashbulbs almost blinded her. Charlotte rolled down her window low enough to announce herself, and a few seconds later the ornate ironwork opened. Several guards appeared to hold back the crowd as she drove through. By the time she parked in front of the three-story colonial house, Charlotte felt like she knew what movie stars went through with paparazzi. Not one part of her didn’t feel violated.

  The butler answered her knock and led her into the den, where Alice sat at her desk, staring at a small television that reported details on finding the body of Zach Braddock-Masters. Alice flickered eyes over at her, and she gave a wan smile as she invited Charlotte to sit in a pulled up chair.

  “Mr. Braddock-Masters had been missing for six weeks, but the discovery of his body has upgraded the case to a homicide. Police are not saying much but the victim’s cousin, Detective Jonas Daire with the AFPD, will not be the lead investigator on the case. Mrs. Alice Braddock-Masters, the victim’s great-aunt could not be reached for an interview. As most people know, the Braddock-Masters were some of the first settlers of Alecia Falls in the mid-nineteenth century, creating a lumber empire that innovated—”

  Alice Braddock-Masters abruptly turned off the set and tossed the remote back onto the desk with a scowl.

  “I met a few dozen of your friends at the gate,” Charlotte told her.

  “I’m afraid this is going to linger like a festering wound,” Alice said with a sigh. Her black mourning color enhanced her pale fragility. “This will no doubt land on one of those investigative late-night shows. It makes me sick that the Braddock-Masters name has to be splashed over the media like this.”