Psychic for Hire Series Box Set

by Hermione Stark

  The calamari is crisp and delicious, an unexpected surprise. “It’s good,” he comments.

  “You bet it is,” she says. “You were gonna complain about me dragging you all the way across town to this place. Admit it!”

  Leo gives a snort of laughter, but continues digging into his wings. Monroe shoots Storm a nervous look.

  “Damn right,” says Storm. He had been interviewing a witness in Whitechapel, a stone’s throw from his apartment. He’d just come back all the way across the city for this.

  “So, erm, how’s your eye?” Monroe enquires.

  “Fine,” Storm says shortly, not wanting to go into it. In her determination to escape from Beatrice Grictor’s office, Diana has left him with an ugly black eye.

  “So?” Remi quirks a brow. “Did you find her?”

  For a moment Storm thinks Remi is asking about Diana. But she can’t be because he hasn’t yet mentioned the Diana incident to the team.

  He doesn’t know why. They’re bound to find out sooner or later. He wants to speak to her first. To demand an explanation for her downright illegal, not to mention stupid, behavior. Grieving for her mother’s death or not, he is worried about her irrational behavior.

  He realizes Remi is talking about the suspect. “Yes, Carmen Perrone was at home. She’s not our killer.”

  “Disappointing,” says Remi. She gives Monroe a grin. “We had one case where the cleaner was a badass undercover assassin on the run from Otherworld organized crime. It was brilliant.”

  “Not this time,” says Storm. “She’s exactly what she appears to be. She admitted to arguing with Lynesse Jones on the morning of the day before the murder. She said Lynesse fired her.”

  “Motive for murder?” asks Remi, reaching for one of Leo’s chicken wings. Leo bats her hand away.

  Storm shakes his head. “She spent the next day, Friday, doing household chores and the evening cooking dinner for her family, which she then ate with her husband, teenage children, her sister and sister’s husband. Solid alibis. The daughter even posted part of the thing on snapchat.”

  Leo pauses from munching his wings. “The coroner narrowed the murder window to late Friday night, early hours of Saturday morning. Around 11:00 pm to 2:00 am.”

  Storm nods. “Carmen Perrone stayed up late with her family watching a movie until 1:00 am. It wasn’t her.”

  “Did she know anyone who would want Lynesse Jones dead?” says Monroe eagerly. He hasn’t ordered a starter and seems to be regretting having nothing to occupy his hands. Clearly the kid is feeling out of his depth.

  “Everyone, apparently,” Storm says dryly. “Carmen Perrone did not get along with her employer’s new fiancée. She says Jared Everett has given her no trouble in the two years she’s worked for him. She claims the man is a saint.”

  “Hmmm,” says Remi skeptically.

  “However Carmen had nothing good to say about the new mistress of the house,” Storm continues. “According to Carmen, Lynesse Jones complained about the cleaning, the food, the décor etcetera in her new home. She wanted to change it all. It led to friction between the two. Plus she didn’t think a succubus was good enough for her employer. She says Lynesse was a prostitute and she was not surprised she came to a bad end.”

  Storm has kept his voice calm while updating the team, despite how much the witness’s attitude had grated on him. Carmen Perrone’s prejudices are not the first he and his team have or will come across.

  “Wonder what she’d think if she knew her sainted employer was grisborn,” Remi says sharply.

  “She wouldn’t believe it,” Leo says. “Some people only believe what they want.”

  “You should have told her you’re half angelus,” says Remi. “And see what she had to say then.”

  “I doubt it would have made her more forthcoming,” says Storm.

  “So I’m guessing she didn’t know about Jared Everett’s little tryst with Astrid Wikander in Ireland?” says Remi.

  “She denied any possibility of Jared having an affair vehemently. She said he worshiped the ground that Lynesse walked on.”

  “What about Silverstone or Caprio?” asks Leo. “Did she think Jones might be having an affair with either of them?”

  “She laughed at the possibility of Caprio being Lynesse’s lover. Said Lynesse would never give a mere assistant the time of day. But she did have her suspicions about Silverstone. Said he visited the house far too often when Jared was not home.”

  “But Diana was sure Lynesse was not having an affair with Silverstone,” Remi points out.

  “Diana could be wrong,” Storm says shortly. He isn’t sure he fully believes this, but he is determined to keep an open mind. Beatrice had refused to confirm an affair too, but she had not denied it either. “Even so, we do know Jared and Raif could not have been the father of her baby, so we need to confirm who else she may have been seeing.”

  Monroe clears his throat. “Didn’t the chief want us to investigate this Diana Bellona as a suspect? Her adoptive family were murdered in a similar copycat crime when she fled California. Lynesse Jones and she were both former patients of this Dr Carrington fellow. Diana could have known Lynesse…”

  His voice trails off as he realizes that Storm and Remi are both glaring at him.

  “Or maybe not…?” he finishes in a weak voice.

  Storm looks at Leo. “Where are we with that alibi?” he asks.

  Leo grins wolfishly. He has already finished his wings and had been looking around to see where his main is.

  He shakes his head. “It’s not her. I managed to get CCTV footage from a neighbor's house that covers her front door. She came home just before 7:00 pm on Friday and didn’t leave again until 6:30 am on Saturday morning.”

  Storm lets out a breath. He knew that had to be the case, but it’s a relief to have the evidence.

  “But aren’t there other exits to the house?” Monroe insists.

  “No rear exit. She lives on the third floor, so unless she jumped from a window several stories high, it’s not her. Even then, the footage would have most likely caught it at street level.”

  Storm’s shoulders, which had been slightly tensed up, finally relax. “So what do we know?” he says. “Let’s run through this from the start. The murders took place at Lynesse Jones’s home between 11:00 pm on Friday night and 2:00 am on Saturday morning. Lynesse turned the security feed off because she liked her privacy, so we have nothing there. Raif Silverstone was visiting her at the time. Given the time of night, there is no clear security footage of the killer from the neighboring houses. Are we all agreed that the focus of the killer’s rage was on Lynesse? And that Raif got in the killer’s way and was collateral damage?”

  He checks to see if anyone wants to propose a different theory, but no one does. “We do need to keep investigating the possibility that Raif’s dealings with freeing water sprites got him into trouble,” he says. “But let’s run through the first theory for now. So who had motive to want Lynesse dead?”

  “Number one,” says Remi. “The housekeeper, who had an airtight alibi.”

  “Number two,” says Leo. “Her fiancé, who works with axes on his film sets, and could have had sufficient time to fly down from Ireland, commit the murder, and then fly back. He says he’s never seen the murder weapon before, but we’re checking to see if that axe came from his set.”

  “Number three,” says Remi. “Astrid Wikander, known to despise Lynesse, could also have flown from Ireland — with or without Everett — to commit the murder.”

  “Erm, maybe not Astrid,” says Monroe. “Her Instagram feed has a video that shows that she was in Ireland at the beach cottage at 4:00 pm on Friday, so it makes it a pretty tight window for her to travel. I’m still trying to contact Astrid or her assistant to validate an alibi though. And she was walking all around the cottage in that Instagram video, by the way, and there was no sign of Everett in it.”

  “Good work!” says Remi, beaming. “Right?”
She looks at Storm.

  “Sure,” says Storm.

  Monroe blushes, and says hurriedly, “Number four, the unknown father of her baby.”

  “I still think it’s possible that could be Caprio,” says Storm. “He said he stayed on set in Ireland when Everett went to the beach cottage, but I need you to pin that down Monroe.”

  “So five is Caprio,” says Remi.

  “And six is Beatrice Grictor,” purrs a voice in Storm’s ear.

  Storm stares at Diana in shock. She has arrived at the table with several main courses balanced on her arms. She unloads them expertly, placing two veal scaloppinis and a steak in front of Leo.

  “Gosh, you must be hungry,” she purrs in a throaty voice, and runs her hands through Leo’s golden hair. Leo raises a slightly surprised brow, and she playfully pats his nose with the tip of her finger.

  Storm’s eyes narrow. She sees it but she only smirks as if in challenge.

  Storm decides he really really does not like Diana’s outfit. The blouse is made of sheer luxury white lace and clings lovingly to her curves, as does her black velvet figure hugging mini skirt. Beneath that are a pair of fishnet stockings ending in outrageously high heels that Storm is surprised anyone could walk in. All topped off with a pristine apron that she has tied as tightly as possible around her slender waist. Unconventional as it might be, it is clearly a waitresses outfit. She works here.

  Storm fires an accusing look at Remi, who opens her eyes wide in a mock innocent manner and shrugs her shoulders. As if she didn’t full well know that Diana worked here.

  “What are you up to?” he growls at Remi.

  “Nothing,” she exclaims. “Fancy seeing you here, Diana! It’s nice to bump into her again, isn’t it boss?”

  “The hell it is,” says Storm through gritted teeth.

  Diana returns to his side and coos. “Don’t be like that, boss man. I know you’re happy to see me.” She traces the outline of his bruised eye with a finger. “Poor baby, what happened here?”

  “You know exactly what happened there,” Storm growls.

  She makes a sound of startled exclamation. “Was that me? Oops! I would never have meant to spoil such a pretty face. Naughty Diana.” She slaps her own wrist.

  “What are you two talking about?” says Remi, looking from Storm to Diana and then back again.

  “Didn’t he tell you?” exclaims Diana with scandalized delight.

  “Tell us what?”

  Diana opens her eyes wide and bats her lashes. “Earlier today I happened to be passing by and found Raif Silverstone’s office door unlocked! It was practically inviting me in, and who was I to say no? So I popped in for a little look-see, and who should come by but this big handsome brute of a fellow,” — she pats Storm’s shoulders — “with little miss munchkin Beatrice Grictor prancing along in his wake.”

  Remi lets out a muffled giggle.

  “I mean, the woman was practically slavering,” Diana continues. “I thought I’d give them a bit of privacy by cramping myself beneath a desk, but then a little monster startled me, and out I popped! I gave Agent Storm here the shock of his life. I could tell I was intruding, so naturally I had to run away. I might have bumped into his face on my way out.”

  “What?” says Monroe, clearly struggling to wrap his head around this unlikely tale.

  “Well how could I resist?” says Diana. “Agent Storm’s face is so manly and bumpable after all.”

  “A monster?” says Leo.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She waves her hands airily. “Maybe it was a spider.”

  Storm glowers at her and she merely giggles. She perches on the edge of the table next to him and she bends close. For a moment Storm thinks she is about to kiss him and he moves back an inch, but then she merely tightens his loose tie.

  “I do love a beast in a smart suit,” she says. “It makes you look so very civilized.”

  She smiles when his eyes narrow, and whispers in his ear too quietly for the others to hear. “Let’s not pretend. I know a caged beast when I see one.” She flips his tie over his shoulder.

  It is like the whole thing is a show. He has no idea what she thinks she is doing. He had thought she’d be apologetic when she next saw him. Not this… whatever it is. He feels an edge of dislike he has never felt for Diana before. If Leo hadn’t verified her alibi, he might even be having second thoughts about her involvement.

  “Diana,” he says in a warning voice.

  “Diana-Shmiana,” she says. She struts around the table until she reaches Monroe.

  “Who’s this handsome young fellow?” she says, ducking down to his face level to take a close look. She tickles his chin, making Monroe blush. “My, aren’t you every teenage girl’s dream?”

  She rubs his shoulder and says. “Mmm. Nice.” She runs her hands sensually through his short brown hair, seeming to enjoy the feeling of the bristly ends against her palm. Monroe’s face gets redder and redder.

  Remi glowers at Diana, and Diana notices. Her eyes open wide. “Oh, excuse me!” she exclaims. “Are you two…?” She makes a crude gesture with her hands.

  “Diana, that’s enough!” Storm snaps. He grabs her by the wrist, tugging her firmly in the direction of the exit.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming!” she gripes.

  As Storm pulls her out of the restaurant she spots a bunch of young people across the road. She waves at them to catch their attention. She blows a kiss to one of the young men in the group.

  “You,” she says. “Yes you. We’ve got a table inside for you, darling. Bring your friends if you want.” She winks at him.

  Inside Luca’s restaurant the customers are attentively watching the little scene. Storm hurries Diana away from the window. When she tries to yank away from him, he pushes her firmly against a wall.

  She laughs. “Ooh, is that how you like it?” she says. She grabs his tie and uses it to pull him closer. He tugs it away.

  He can feel his cheeks getting red with angry heat. His breathing is harsh. “What the hell has gotten into you?” he demands.

  “Oh baby, nothing yet,” she croons. “But we can change that if you like?”

  Storm swallows hard and takes a step back from her. “You’re not acting like yourself.” His eyes drop to her clothes.

  She sees it and she preens. “You like it? The punters have been practically throwing their tips at me. Had to come in tonight you see. Diana doesn’t like to let Luca down.”

  “Does your boss make you wear that?” he demands.

  “What do you care? I can wear what I like. I can do what I like. I don’t work for you any more, big shot Mr Agent Storm.”

  “Is that what this is about?” he asks harshly. “You’re angry with me? I’ve explained to you why! I didn't want to fire you. It’s for your own good.”

  “You don't decide what is for my own good. I decide. And if you don’t like it, you can push off. Like everybody else.” Her voice breaks a little at those final words, and Storm’s heart clenches.

  “Diana,” he says softly. “You need help. You need to talk to someone about what you’re going through. You can’t brush your grief under the carpet and hope it goes away.”

  “This has nothing to do with grief!” she snaps. “What would you know about it? I want my goddamn job back, and I am going to get it. I’m beating you. You're going down the wrong rabbit hole, Mr Hot Shot.”

  “I told you to stay out of this case.”

  “But why, baby? It does you no good. You would be looking at little Mrs Sweetie-Pie, Beatrice Grictor, too if you weren’t so busy panting after her.”

  “I’m not panting—”

  He cuts himself off abruptly, realizing it is doing either of them any good to get sucked into whatever game she is playing. “Beatrice Grictor has an airtight alibi.”

  “Puh-lease. I bet she crooked her sweet little finger and fifty panting air-tight alibis appeared, all of your gender.”

  “Just one,” he says cold
ly. “Griggori Vetruvin, the Otherworld Ambassador to London, if you must know. The Ambassador, Diana. It’s you who is disappearing down a rabbit hole. You’re not yourself. Are you on something?”

  She laughs. “Why would I be on something, baby? I’m high on life and the smell of victory.”

  “You should apologize to Beatrice. She’s the only reason we didn’t come to find you with an arrest warrant. She refused to press charges.”

  “Diana!” calls a voice, startling both of them.

  A portly middle-aged man standing in the restaurant doorway is looking their way. Storm realizes that he is towering over Diana in a menacing manner and takes another step away from her.