* * *
“It’s gorgeous.” I sprawled on Killian’s bed and punched the speaker button on my phone.
The headboard and footboard were made of heavy oak, the bedroom walls were olive drab, and the heavy velvet draperies blocked out the light. I loved being around him, but our tastes didn’t even begin to meet in the middle on decorating.
My bedroom was newly painted a pale silver-gray with navy trim and curtains. I wasn’t a sun bunny, I loved the gloom and clouds of the Pacific Northwest, but when I thought about it, Killian’s house felt perpetually cloaked in shadow.
Ari giggled. “I can hardly wait to see it. Do you need some help moving your furniture back in?”
“Of course,” I said, laughing. “All help is appreciated.” I had stored all my furniture in a large moving storage container, and left it sitting in my driveway. Instead of having them come truck it to a new home, I had just rented it for the month it took Jim’s company to finish all of the renovations. “Can you swing by tonight? I’d at least like to get started.”
“I can do one better—how about this afternoon? My last appointment is at two. And you and I don’t have any clients right now.”
Ari—short for Arianrhod—was my best friend from my youth. She was a hairdresser, and we had opened a side business of reading tarot cards and doing psychic house cleanings. We weren’t getting many calls, but then again, it was a side gig for both of us and that was perfectly fine.
“Once I get settled back in the house, we can start drumming up clients again.” I paused as a text message came in. When I saw who it was from, I let out a groan. “Fucking hell. Ellison just texted me.”
“What does the prick want now?” Ari hated Ellison. During my marriage, she and I had still hung out together when we could, but the fact that I lived in Seattle—a good ninety-minute drive away—and the fact that Ellison had disliked her—made it hard to keep the friendship going. I chalked his disdain up to the facts that she was a witch like me, and she was also gay.
I skimmed the massive text. “Why can’t he figure out how to use email? I swear…”
The text ran on and on, finally concluding: january, you need to help me out. i can’t stand living with my parents and you have that big house going to waste there with just you in it. let me come stay with you. i think we made a mistake. i’d like to try again. i know we could make things work out this time, and i’ll help you lose some of that blubber and you can help me start up the business again. i’m so broke i can’t even buy a decent bottle of wine.
“Oh for fuck’s sake. The man’s so narcissistic he can’t utter anything except the words ‘me me me’…he’s begging me to take him back, and he’ll help me lose some of my ‘blubber.’ ” I wanted to throw my phone at the wall but stopped myself. I had done that last month and broken a brand-new phone. I couldn’t afford to keep throwing tantrums every time I had to deal with Ellison.
Ari paused—I could hear the hesitation without her saying a word.
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure whether to tell you.”
“Quit gnawing on the inside of your cheek—I know you’re doing that, you always do and then you complain about sores. If you know something, spill it. You know how I hate secrets.”
She inhaled sharply. “All right, but I’d rather tell you in person.”
“Just rip off the bandage.”
“Ellison tried to hit on me. It was about ten years ago, at a Christmas party you threw?” Ari sighed. “I told you I wasn’t sure whether I should tell you or not.”
I froze. I had never known about this.
Ari continued. “That’s the reason I stopped coming to visit.”
“What the hell?” I caught a sharp breath, wincing at the unexpected pain in my heart. Even though I was over him, it still hurt to hear that he was cheating on me—or at least trying to—long before we broke up.
“I told him to fuck off, that I’m gay and I’d brain him if he touched me. Then I told him I’d kick him in the balls if he hurt you.”
I could easily imagine Ari not only threatening him, but acting on those threats if she needed to. “What did he say?”
“He warned me to quit coming around so much. I didn’t want him to take his anger at me out on you. I decided he was probably just drunk and acting like an idiot.”
I thought back to that party. I knew the exact one she was talking about. We had spent every spare dollar on the shindig to impress his friends—or rather, the people he wanted to be friends with. Ellison had always been a social climber, but he didn’t have much luck. He wasn’t charming, his sarcasm always won out, and only the size of our bank account caught the attention of the women he pursued, I found out much too late. Over the years, we—mostly me—had built the magazine into a thriving concern in the Seattle arts community and eventually it began to make fairly decent money, thanks to my management.
“That was the night you insisted on driving home during the snowstorm, wasn’t it? I remember being so worried you’d have an accident.”
“Yeah, that’s the one. But I didn’t know what else to do. Ellison was really pushy and he grabbed my ass and tried to feel up my boobs. Until I told him I was gay, he kept muttering how he wanted to fuck me up the ass. My whole point in telling you this now is: do not take that man back again, regardless of what sob story he plays on you. Don’t feel sorry for him. He’s a fucked-up nutjob and I’d hate to see him hurt you again.”
I let out a sigh. “Thank you for telling me. That’s the point when things really started to decline, though I have to admit, they were never really good between us. But something shifted that night and I never could figure out what.” I paused, then added, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that jackass put the make on you.”
“It’s not your place to apologize. But I just never want you to be swayed by him again.”
I shifted, rolling over on my back. “Trust me, it’s not going to happen. I still have the restraining order from when he tried to hit me. I thought Killian was going to kill him.” I paused, then said, “Let’s change the subject. I picked the last of the tomatoes and cucumbers this morning. You want some cukes to take home?” I could eat tomatoes by the bushel, but cucumbers were fine as an addition to meals, not as the main course.
“If you don’t want them. Meagan loves them.” Meagan was Ari’s fiancée. They had planned for a summer wedding, but that got shot to hell.
“I’ll save several for you. I’ll see you around two-thirty?”
“I’ll be there, with gloves and weight belt on,” Ari said, laughing. “Meanwhile, tell Ellison to go stuff himself in the toilet.”
I snorted as I ended the call. Ari was five-two, barely a size 2, and one of the scariest bad-asses I’d ever met. She had no problem telling people just what they could do with themselves and their bigoted ideas.
I stared at Ellison’s text for a moment, then feeling Ari’s spirit urging me on, texted back the only thing I could think of. your dick’s too small and you’re always going to be a leech. go find another sugar mama to mooch off of, you loser. And with that, I blocked him—again—and decided to get in a short nap before it was time to move.
Chapter Two
Ari and I had managed to bring in about half the boxes by the time Killian got home. We didn’t try to tackle the big furniture. Killian had promised to bring some extra muscle for that, but we managed to unpack a number of the boxes I’d had to store during renovations.
I showed her the door in the library. “I need to check my parents’ key rings. I can’t remember what it was used for, to be honest. I do remember them telling me to leave it alone—that I could hurt myself playing in there. I guess I never gave it much thought after that. I think I still remembered it when I was in high school, so they had to have closed it up after I left home.”
Ari frowned. “Is it a closet?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. I assume so. But I don’t remember ever being allowed in there
, and my parents kept the door locked.” I tried to remember back to any time when I had entered whatever space lay beyond the door, but no such memory cropped up.
“And you never noticed your mother going in there?
I shook my head. “No, nor my father either. You’d think a locked door would have driven me crazy, but…” A memory cropped up and I snapped my fingers. “Oh! I remember now. One time I asked my father what was in there and he told me that they just stored a bunch of old furniture in there, and that if I wanted to look, fine, but I’d have to clear out all the spiders first. That totally freaked me out to the point where he somehow convinced me that they couldn’t make it out of the room as long as it was locked. I think I was like…seven? At the time.”
Ari laughed. “When I was a kid, I never bothered going in the attic because I hated the dust and mess. I can’t even remember what we stored up there. My parents must have cleaned it out themselves before they moved.”
I contemplated the door. “I’ll go look for—” I was about to search for the key but at that moment, I heard the front door open and Killian’s voice ring out.
“Honey, are you in here? I brought a couple of guys to help out!”
“Meet you in the kitchen!” I called out.
Killian had brought home two of the other veterinarians he knew and while they tackled the furniture, Ari and I returned to bringing in boxes. Within an hour, I was back in my house, and we called out for pizza while I continued to tackle the unboxing. Luckily, it wasn’t as bad as moving—I’d only had to clear the kitchen, the en suite, and the living room. While that still made for quite a few boxes, it wasn’t anything like an entire household of goods.
After we ate, Killian’s friends left, and Ari, Killian, and I sprawled out in the living room.
I yawned. “I’ll stay at your house tonight, then bring the cats over tomorrow.” I leaned back on the sofa, stretching my legs out on the ottoman.
“Aren’t you going to miss me at all?” Killian asked.
“Of course,” I said. “But I’ll be happy to be back home.”
He gave me a puppy dog sigh, his eyes twinkling.
Killian was gorgeous. He was tall, with dirty blond hair that brushed his shoulders. He was sturdy, but muscled. While I could imagine him in a tux if I strained my imagination, he wore jeans and sweaters well. Though he was a wolf shifter, he led a much more liberal lifestyle than most of his kind. He wasn’t into the whole macho thing, which made me love him that much more, and while he definitely had an alpha streak, Killian was an individualist.
He turned to Ari. “So, have you set a date yet?”
She made a face. “Meagan is still waiting for the Elder Council to approve her petition for autonomy. They’ve done all the leg work, and she’s filled out a gazillion forms, but bureaucracy is a bitch, regardless of what organization you’re dealing with.”
“Is her mother still giving you trouble?”
Ari had fallen in love with a bear shifter. In high school, Meagan had been a cheerleader and a bully, but she’d turned out better than she started. However, when she left her husband and announced she was gay, she had broken her mother’s icy-cold heart. Not only that, but the fact that Meagan had chosen a witch for her mate was enough to push her mama over the edge. Meagan’s mother had threatened to destroy Ari’s business. So Meagan had applied for a seal of autonomy to officially sever her ties with her family. That way, if Mrs. Lopez tried anything nasty, Ari would be able to sue her ass off.
“Her mother’s disowned her and washed her hands of us, which is good for me, but it’s been hard on Meagan.” Ari shook her head. “The only thing that’s holding up the final seal is that the Great Father of their Sleuth left the country a few months ago on a visit to Europe. He’s the one who has to sign the document. He’ll be back in a few weeks, so it shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Sounds to me like you’d better start planning a winter wedding instead of an autumn one.” I leaned against Killian, closing my eyes as he slowly rubbed my temples.
“The hell with that. The minute she gets that seal, we’re going down to the courthouse and get hitched. We’ll still have a ceremony later, but we just want to be married.” Ari shrugged. “I never thought I’d find the love of my life. I sure as hell don’t intend to lose her.”
I was about to say something when a noise echoed down the stairs. It sounded like a chair tipping over. Frowning, I padded up the stairs, with Killian on my heels.
I peeked in my bedroom. Nothing seemed out of place. A glance in the bathroom, however, revealed that one of my boxes filled with lotions and creams had tipped over. I frowned. I had placed it squarely on the counter—I remembered because I had shoved another box out of the way in order to make room. Three bottles of lotion had opened, along with one bottle of shampoo, oozing all over the floor.
“Cripes. This is going to take paper towels and a sponge to mop up.” I glanced up at Killian, who was standing behind me. “Can you bring me a roll?”
Killian took in the mess, then nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
As he headed back downstairs, I reached for the box so I could tuck the unopened bottles back into it. The mix of scents was overwhelming, and I switched on the fan. As I turned back to the mess, a sudden echo of laughter startled me and I jumped back.
“Who’s there? What the hell?” I frantically turned around, but there was no one in sight.
The laughter abruptly faded, but then something pinched my side.
I jumped. “Who did that?”
Utter silence.
“Who’s there?”
Again, silence.
At that moment, Killian returned, handing me the paper towels. “Who were you talking to?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him. Killian was protective and he’d insist that I stay at his house until we found the source of the voice.
“Nothing,” I muttered. “Just…talking to myself. Here, let me wipe up this mess.”
Killian knelt to help me clean up the spilled lotion. “Did you lose anything important?”
Again, I shook my head. “No, but…” I paused. “No, I didn’t. I must have balanced the box wrong and gravity took over. Thanks for helping me clean up.”
We finished and Killian carried the used paper towels downstairs. I turned back to give the bathroom a once-over. Everything seemed fine, and when I closed my eyes and reached out, I couldn’t feel anybody or anything around. Maybe it had been an accident. Maybe the laughter and the pinch had been figments of my imagination. Not everything could be explained away by ghosts and the supernatural. Sometimes a duck was a duck was a duck.
Finally, convincing myself to chalk it up to gravity, I turned and headed back down.
* * *
“So, Ellison texted me today,” I said. Ari had left for home, and Killian and I were crossing the lawn to the fence and gate that divided our yards.
“What did he want?” Killian let out a low growl.
“He wanted me to let him come live with me, and—get this—maybe give it another go. He’s broke, and he’s desperate.” I didn’t mention what Ellison had said about my “ blubber” because I didn’t want Killian driving up to Bellingham to break Ellison’s nose, which I could easily see happening if he thought he had enough reason.
“If he shows up here again, I swear, I’ll break more than his wallet. That restraining order gives me the right to protect you, if I think you’re in danger. And trust me, I can rationalize any action he makes as putting you in danger.” Killian wrapped his arm around me. “I’m so glad to be home.”
“Rough day?” I leaned against him.
“Yeah. Ida Clarkson came in. You know that gorgeous parrot of hers?”
I nodded. “Jacktaw.”
Ida Clarkson owned a fabric shop. She was eighty, if she was a day, and she had taken in a macaw thirty-two years ago. I remembered when she had gotten it—I was nine. My mother had taken me into the shop to buy s
ome material for a tablecloth and Ida had let me pet the bird, who could speak English fluently. I had fallen in love with Jacktaw. Ida had told me that the bird was already twenty-one years old when she adopted him. Which meant that Jacktaw was fifty-three now.
“He died today. It was so heartbreaking. He wasn’t able to groom himself any more, and he had almost stopped eating. We knew it was coming. Four months ago, he started to slide, and I warned her that the end could come any time.” Killian opened the door and escorted me in.
“Old age?”
“Probably. I’ll do a necropsy but my guess is the little guy just wore out. Parrots live a long time, but nobody lives forever.” He headed for the bar. “I think I’ll pour myself a cognac. Want one?”
I sat on one of the bar stools. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll pick up a sympathy card and some flowers for Ida tomorrow and drop it off to her. That’s a long time to live with someone and then have to say good-bye. She wasn’t married and didn’t have a lot of friends, so she’s alone now.”
“I wonder why she’s so alone,” Killian said. “She always seemed congenial to me.”
I shrugged. “I’ve seen it before. Ida was a successful businesswoman. She didn’t have much in common with the women in her circle, and I think they may have found her too abrasive. I’m really sorry about your day, love.”
“It was harder on her than it was me—though I never like having to let an animal go. And thirty-two years—that’s exceptional. She adored him. But it was kinder to put him to sleep, so that was what I did today.” He handed me one of the snifters and I swirled the liqueur inside of it, then took a slow sip. The warmth trickled down my throat and I sent up a silent prayer to whoever was listening that Ida would be okay.
Harvest Web: A Moonshadow Bay Novel, Book 4 Page 2