“I’m just peachy, light of my life,” he said. He sounded as though he was gritting his teeth.
“Well, I’m so happy to hear that,” I said, refusing to give him an out. “What do you think about this weather we’re having?”
“I love this time of year,” Dad replied mechanically. “Summer is great. Who doesn’t love summer?”
“Technically, it’s still spring,” I said. “It won’t be summer for another two weeks.”
“Are you trying to kill me?”
“Is it working?”
“You’re the reason my hair is going gray. You know that, right?”
My father still had a full head of black hair. Sure, he was graying at the temples, but it only made him look more distinguished. He blamed all of us for his gray hair whenever we gave him cause to yell. I was used to it. “I thought Aidan was the reason you were going gray.”
“That was last week.”
“It was Redmond the week before,” I pointed out.
“And I’m sure it will be Braden and Cillian before the week is out,” Dad said. “You’re the one doing it right now.”
I sighed. “Fine. What’s going on?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in Detroit,” I said. “I’m waiting for Morgan Reid to die so I can go up and collect his soul.”
“And where is Aidan?”
I faltered. If I admitted the truth, would I be throwing Aidan under Dad’s bus? “He’s … um … staking the place out.”
“Huh.”
“He is.”
“I just got a call that Aidan has a flat on I-94,” Dad said. “Do you want to change your statement?”
“Am I under oath, judge?” I teased.
“Aisling,” he growled.
“Fine,” I grumbled. “We split the list.”
“He told me. I just wanted to ask you why you think it’s okay to go out on your own when you’re still a trainee.”
Oh, good, he was in serious mode today. “They’re both nothing,” I said. “I already got the guy at the retirement community. This Morgan Reid guy is just a normal guy who is going to die of … .” I scanned the file. “A knife to the chest.” Crap. I should have read the file closer. He has a fit when I’m not properly prepared.
“You stay in that car until you’re sure that whoever kills him is gone,” Dad ordered. “Then you scamper your butt up there, suck his soul without any conversation … I mean it, young lady … and then you scamper right back out of there.”
“There’s going to be a lot of scampering going on.”
“I’m not joking,” Dad said. “The last thing we need is police involvement.”
“Oh, crap,” I mused. “I wonder if this will be Griffin’s case?”
“Yes, and we’re going to have a talk about him later, too.”
I scowled. “What did Aidan tell you?”
“He told me everything.”
Somehow I doubted that. “You know he has a grudge where Griffin is concerned, right?”
“I do know that,” Dad said. “I just don’t think you realize why he’s holding that grudge.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not my business.”
“Since when?”
“This is between you and your brother,” Dad said. “I learned a long time ago that you two need to work your issues out on your own. You’ve got a … unique … relationship. I think it’s because you’re twins.
“Personally, it frightens me how co-dependent you two are,” he continued. “Your mother convinced me to let you two handle certain things on your own, though, and this is one of those things.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
“What are you going to do, Aisling?” Dad wasn’t about to let me off the phone until I placated him, so I played the game. When I recited his instructions back to him he sounded marginally better. “Okay. Call me if you have any problems.”
“I definitely will.”
“Aisling?”
“Yeah?”
“I do love you.”
His words warmed me. “I love you, too.”
“You’re still my least favorite child right now.”
I scowled. “Thanks.”
“Text me when you’re done,” Dad said. “I won’t be able to relax until I know you’re out of there.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I know you’re rolling your eyes.”
He always did. “Bye, Dad.”
“Bye.”
I WAITED five minutes after the time noted in the file and then exited my car. Morgan Reid lived on the fifth floor. I could take the elevator, and run the risk of being caught on a security camera, or climb the five floors to his apartment.
I seriously considered the elevator. Since this was a murder scene, though, I finally broke down and started climbing the stairs. Four excruciating minutes later, I exited the stairwell and scanned the hallway.
It was the middle of the day, so everything was quiet. I strode down the hallway and paused outside Reid’s apartment, pressing my ear to the door. I couldn’t hear anything. That must mean he was dead.
I pulled the universal skeleton key from my pocket. We’re all assigned them when we join the team. I pressed it into the lock. The keys are magically imbued – and no, I don’t know who does it; they just appear. I started to push the door open.
When I realized the door was opening much too quickly, I jerked the key back and jammed it into my pocket. I was ready to run. This had to be the murderer.
The face that appeared in the doorway, surprise washing over his handsome features, didn’t look like a murderer. In fact, he looked like my victim. Crap. Morgan Reid was still alive. How was that possible?
“Can I help you?”
I had no idea what to do. Lying seemed my best option. “I’m sorry, are you Mike Morrison?”
Reid shook his head. I could feel his eyes moving over my body, and he exuded a predatory sexual nature. “Unfortunately, I’m not.”
“Oh, no,” I said, biting my lower lip and giving into the performance. “I must have the wrong apartment. I could swear he told me it was five-fifteen.”
Reid pointed at his door. “I live in five-fifteen.”
“Do you have a roommate?”
“No.” The dimple on Reid’s cheek came out to play as he studied me. “Why are you looking for this Mike Morrison?”
“Oh … he had an ad on Craig’s List. I answered it.”
Reid’s smile widened. “What kind of ad?”
I realized what he was asking. What a sick pervert. “He’s selling a couch.”
Reid’s face fell. “Oh, that’s too bad. You look like … fun.”
I shot him a look. I could see why someone was about to murder him. “Well, I guess I got the wrong address. I should be going.”
Reid reached out and snagged my arm. “Wait … .”
I jerked it away. “I’m on a tight schedule today.” I had to call my brother and figure out what was going on.
“Why don’t you come in?” Reid offered. “I could make some coffee or something.”
“Sorry, I can’t.” I started moving down the hallway, my mind busy. I avoided the elevator again, out of habit, and plunged into the stairwell. I could feel Reid’s eyes on my back during the short trek. I already had my cellphone out of my pocket by the time I hit the front steps of the apartment building.
“Hello.”
“Redmond?”
“Who else would answer my cellphone?”
In some ways, my relationship with Aidan is the closest familial tie I have. In others, it’s my relationship with Redmond that stands out. As the eldest brother, he takes his responsibilities seriously. His responsibilities often involve protecting his four younger siblings. When it comes to me, he is especially intense.
“Something happened,” I said, pacing in front of a tall elm tree in the courtyard.
“What? D
id Detective Dinglefritz hurt you?”
“No! What has Aidan been telling you?”
“He told us what happened yesterday,” Redmond said, his voice even. “I don’t happen to believe that he’s lying. I think he really likes you. That doesn’t mean I want him … touching you. It’s gross.”
“Thanks. It’s always good to hear that I’m gross.”
“I didn’t say you were gross.”
“Are you saying he’s gross?”
“I’m saying the things you two do together are gross,” Redmond said. “I’m your brother. I don’t like thinking of things like that. Sue me.”
“Maybe later. I have a different problem right now.”
“Hit me.”
I laid out my afternoon. When I was done, Redmond was as confused as I was. “Wait, he’s not dead?”
“No, he hit on me. Speaking of gross, he thought I was answering a Craig’s List ad for … well, you know.”
“Oh, well, maybe I’m the one who is supposed to kill him,” Redmond mused. “Sick piece of … .”
“Redmond!”
“What?”
“What should I do?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
That wasn’t the answer I expected. Sure, maybe there was some hero worship involved, but Redmond always had answers. “You don’t know?”
“I’m equally stunned,” he said. “I just … where are you?”
I told him the address.
“Okay,” he said. “Stay in your car. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll call Dad.”
“Tell him I followed every single rule,” I said.
“He’s not going to be angry, Ais.”
“He’s always angry with me. He says I’m his least favorite child.”
“You were his favorite last week,” Redmond replied. “That wheel never stops turning. I’m on my way. Just … don’t do anything until I get there.”
“Okay,” I said. “Redmond?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for coming.”
“Kid, I’ll always come for you,” he said. “Never, ever doubt that. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll just wait in my … .” The sound of a scream in the nearby alley stopped my sentence. It sounded like someone was dying. Maybe Reid was just running late. “Wait. I hear someone screaming. I think he’s in the alley, though. Maybe the file changed and the update just hasn’t come through.”
“Don’t go there, Aisling,” Redmond warned.
“I’ll be quick,” I said. “I have a shopping date with Jerry. Don’t worry. It will be fine.”
I disconnected the phone, but not before I heard one more outburst from Redmond. “Aisling, don’t you dare go into that alley! You have no idea what is down there!”
It would be fine. My day was about to get back on track.
I had no idea how wrong I was about to be.
Six
By the time I hit the alley, the screams had subsided. There was, however, another noise. It took me a moment to realize what I was hearing, but when I did I was horrified. The person who screamed wasn’t dead. Not yet. Someone was gasping for air, and the ragged and wet sounds coming from the man’s chest were horrifying.
I couldn’t stop myself from trying to help. It wasn’t my job, but there was so much blood, and the dark eyes of the man on the ground were terrified. I knew there was nothing I could do – and one glance at the prone figure told me this was not Morgan Reid – but I did what I could.
“I … just hold on.” I pressed my hands over the gushing wound. He was losing a lot of blood. I realized, with both of my hands busy, I couldn’t call 911. My father was going to have an outright fit when he heard what I’d done, but it was too late. I was in this.
I glanced over my shoulder, my gaze landing on a young woman peering down the alley. She must have heard the screams, too. She was too frightened to investigate, though.
“Hey, I need you to call for help,” I said.
The woman just looked at me.
“Do you speak English?”
After a moment of staring, her blue eyes focusing on my blood-covered hands, she finally opened her mouth. “Y-yes.”
“Call 911. Tell them we have a victim who has been stabbed, and he’s losing a lot of blood.” I shifted so I could meet the man’s glistening eyes. “What is your name?”
“Grant,” he rasped. “Grant Spencer.”
There was blood at the corner of his lips. I knew that wasn’t a good sign. It signified internal injuries. “Mr. Spencer, do you know who did this to you?”
His eyes were starting to go glassy and his breathing was more ragged. I’d seen enough death to know the truth: It wouldn’t be long now.
“I … it didn’t look like a man.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It was tall. It was wearing some black cape thing. It was white … except for the claws.”
My heart rolled. He was describing a wraith. “Did it say anything to you?”
“No.”
“Did it … try to take anything out of you?” There was no graceful way to ask the question. How do you ask a dying man if a big, scary monster tried to suck his soul out?
“I don’t know.” Grant’s eyes were sliding shut.
“Good journey,” I murmured. I pulled the scepter from my pocket and held it ready. The second his soul started to detach from his body, the familiar shimmering edges tugging away from the solid form of a discarded husk, I absorbed it and shoved the scepter back inside my pocket so it was hidden away.
I would have preferred more time to talk to Grant, but emergency personnel were on their way. That meant the police were on their way, too. I didn’t have time to sit around conversing with a displaced soul.
I forced myself to a standing position and studied my bloody hands. You wouldn’t think someone who is trained to deal with death would be traumatized by the act of dying, but I was. When I turned to face the end of the alley, I found the woman was back and staring at me.
“Did you make the call?”
She nodded. “Is he … ?”
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s dead.”
GRIFFIN looked as though he wanted to throttle me. I suppose it was a foregone conclusion that he would be the one called to the scene. My luck is almost always bad. Still, I knew his reaction was going to be a cakewalk compared to the verbal smackdown my father was going to lay on me later.
“So, I need to know what you were doing here.”
The woman asking the question was a new face. She’d exited the same vehicle with Griffin. Since he usually worked alone I was surprised by her appearance. It didn’t help that she had long auburn hair, legs that went on for miles and she kept smiling at Griffin as if he were the hottest man ever born. I didn’t like her. What? I’m not jealous.
“I was just in the area,” I said, searching for an alibi. “I’m supposed to be meeting my brother for lunch. I was sitting in my car fiddling with my iPad when I heard a scream.”
Griffin rolled his eyes.
“Where were you going to have lunch?”
I frowned. I had no idea what restaurants were in this area. “We were going to decide when he got here, Officer … ?”
“Detective Andrea Black,” the woman supplied.
“Detective?” I shot Griffin a narrow-eyed look.
He sighed. “We can’t interview her.”
Andrea’s shoulders hopped. “Why?”
“Because she’s … my girlfriend.”
His admission stunned me. He’d never referred to me that way before.
Andrea looked me up and down. “This is your girlfriend?”
“For now,” Griffin said pointedly. “We can’t interview her, though. It’s a conflict of interest.”
“That’s only if she’s a suspect,” Andrea pointed out. “And, as long as I do the interviewing, I’m not sure what the problem is?”
I waited for Griffin’s respons
e.
“I … .”
“Do you think your girlfriend killed him?”
“No,” Griffin protested.
“Then what’s the problem?”
Griffin shifted uncomfortably, his dark eyes flicking over me as he considered the question. “I guess there’s not a problem.”
“Good,” Andrea said. “So, what is your full name?”
“Aisling Grimlock.”
“What’s your middle name?”
“That’s top secret.” I hate my middle name.
Griffin made a face. “It’s Agnes.”
“Who told you that?” I was going on a brother hunt as soon as I was cut loose from this crime scene.
“Your birth certificate,” he said dryly.
“Oh. I need to get that thing amended.”
“Is there something wrong with the name Agnes?” Andrea asked, her green eyes flashing.
“Yes, it sucks.”
Griffin bit his bottom lip and rubbed his hand through his hair. “Just answer the questions.”
“You’re very crabby,” I said.
“You found a dead body in an alley,” he countered. “Again.”
“I have horrible luck. I’m really a victim in all of this.”
Griffin reached to grab my arm. I was sure he was going to shake me. A shared look with Andrea had him retracting his fingers.
“So, you were just waiting for your brother to arrive?” Andrea pressed. “Why did you agree to meet here?”
That was a very good question. “I have a bad sense of direction,” I replied. “My brothers say I can’t find my way out of a paper bag. I got lost and had to call my brother with my location. He’s coming to find me.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
“And which one is coming?” Griffin asked.
“I have four brothers,” I said. “And Redmond is coming.”
“Oh, good grief,” Griffin muttered. “Is he going to be all … ?”
“All what?” Redmond stepped up on the curb behind Griffin.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Griffin grumbled.
“And you’re the brother?” Andrea asked.
“I am.” Redmond sent Andrea a devilish grin. All of my brothers are attractive, and they’re all willing to flirt with a woman to get her on their side. Redmond was no exception, and since he was the oldest he had the most practice. “And who are you?”
Grim Offerings (Aisling Grimlock Book 2) Page 4