by Lissa Kasey
The group stood in what seemed to be shocked silence for a minute or so. But Alex’s smile was huge and he kissed me on the nose again.
“I will support you in whatever you choose,” he promised.
“But I thought you were coming back,” Freya said.
“We were all sort of looking forward to your return. Your designs have always been so good we were all motivated to work harder to catch up,” Julie said.
“That’s just it,” I said. “I don’t want you all to look at me and think you need to ‘catch up’ to anything. The passion and originality come from inside.” I put my hand on Alex’s Scooby pillow. “And this was amazing, inspired, and well executed. None of that needed me to be involved. You’re all branching out into incredible things. My amazing thing is my shop, which I love. And I’m sort of into this hot stoner guy who inspires me.”
Alex grinned at me. “Woot. The half-demon is in love with me.” He did a little dance, looking silly and adorable all at once.
“Your shop would be busier if you had the influence to drive people to the website,” Freya pointed out.
“It would probably build hype,” Nicole added. “We still do pictures and stuff, and will do classes and online tutorials to drive business to our new shop.”
“We do okay,” I said. Maybe I’d expand into tutorials down the road, but for now I liked the simplicity of the shop. “I’m happy where I am. Really. You guys are all great. I’d forgotten how much fun this was, even while being stressful.” I looked at the clock, and it was after eleven p.m. “How about we call it a night? Ride this high into a good night of sleep for the convention tomorrow? I’ll do the booth thing, and Freya if you really want an interview, that’s fine. I’ll direct people to the shop website since I won’t be reopening my old influencer one. Hopefully that’s okay with everyone?”
“Works for me,” Alex said. “I love Simply Crafty. If you guys haven’t checked out the website yet, there’s amazing stuff for sale. We should add links too,” Alex said. “For the non-profit and everyone else’s websites. Tutorials and all that. Redirect traffic that might be interested in that sort of fun quirky stuff, as that’s what Simply Crafty specializes in.”
“I’d love to link our Etsy shop to your page,” Nicole added. “We do mostly accessories with a cosplay flair, but that sounds like it would fit.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said. I did most of the web work myself. Years of video editing and website building had taught me a lot. The only thing I hired out for was the actual sales platform programming. That part of the site worked like a well-oiled machine now. “If you need help building a sales platform independent of Etsy, let me know. I’ve got a friend who did mine for a really reasonable price. He also maintains that part of it for a small monthly fee. Mostly all I have to do is print off order sheets and pack stuff up. It runs like a dream. Cut out the middleman charging all those fees on every sale.”
“That sounds great,” Nicole said.
“Holy crap, I’m super tired all of a sudden,” Alex said.
“The adrenaline fading,” Chad agreed. “Maybe we should all call it a night. We gotta do the convention tomorrow.”
I nodded and everyone else seemed to be in agreement.
“I’ll talk about the details for the booth cosplay event tomorrow over breakfast,” MaryAnn said. “See you all in the morning.”
I grabbed Alex’s hand and made my way back to the craft room to gather up our clothes. Alex gave the doorway opposite the dining room a wide berth again and I frowned as I studied the space, finding nothing out of the ordinary again. “Everything okay?” I asked him as he gathered up his stuff and we headed toward the back door.
“Nope, everything is good,” he promised.
We stepped down the backstairs and followed the stone path across the dark yard lit only by the small path lights. “Are you mad at me for not getting the books?” I asked.
“What? No. Never.” He held out the computer. “This is for you though. Maybe I should have given it to Chad’s thing too?”
“The software is probably a little advanced for the kids in Chad’s group.”
“That was my thought too.” We reached the door to the cabin and let ourselves in. It took a few minutes to get out of the costumes, putting them up so they wouldn’t get messed up or dirty. The clay nails put on with double-sided sticky tape would have to have new tape added tomorrow, but I found a bag for them so they wouldn’t get broken.
I didn’t bother with anything else, leaving only my undies as I waited for Alex up in the loft. He apparently had the same idea, appearing in the loft in just a t-shirt and his undies. His wild hair making me reach for him. “That was amazing,” he said, curling up with me on the bed.
“A lot of excitement in cosplay. A lot of frustration and hard work too.”
“No kidding,” he said. “I’m glad you wanted to go. It was fun.”
“I’m glad you did it with me, even if we didn’t get to work together.”
“Well now you have fancy software to figure out designs we can do together.”
“Yeah. I’ll have to set it up. Do you want my old computer then? Still works great, even if it won’t run the new software.” My old computer was a MacBook Air rather than a Pro. So it was smaller and lighter. I would miss that about it.
“Sure. It will give me something to research paranormal cats on, other than my phone.”
“Was the cat back?”
“Hung out in the craft room most of the night, perched on the top of one of the shelves. It wasn’t until after everything was done that it got weird.”
I thought about that for a few minutes. “Wonder why.”
“That’s why I need to research. But that’s for another day. Right now, it’s bedtime since we have a convention to attend tomorrow.” Alex dragged himself up and turned off the light. I sighed and rolled over to center myself on the bed and in his arms, which is where I was happiest at that moment.
Chapter 23
Waking up to the tickle of Alex’s beard on my face made me sigh.
“Is that a good sigh or a bad sigh?” Alex asked. “I brought you coffee.”
“Remind me again that you’re not a morning person?” I growled at him.
“I think everyone in the world is more of a morning person than you before coffee.” The scent of coffee made me open my eyes and stare up at him. He had obviously been awake awhile since his hair was tamed and he was fully dressed.
“And here I thought you were offering me morning sex,” I said.
“Before coffee? Do I look suicidal to you?”
I couldn’t help but smile as he did know me well. The years of being rolled over for a good time had long passed, and oddly, I didn’t miss them at all. I preferred a quiet morning of snuggles, coffee, and crafts to porn star style morning sex. Maybe I was getting prudish in my old age, twenty-three wasn’t all that old, but I wanted to be awake enough to appreciate the man in my bed.
“See there’s a crack in the grump. Drink your coffee. As much as I’d like to skip breakfast with the group and do our own thing today, we have that costume thing to get details on. Never realized how antisocial I can be until we got here,” Alex held the cup out until I sat up and took it from him. The first sip was heaven as usual. The smooth, creamy vanilla flavor with a hint of butterscotch, rolling over my tongue and down my throat made me close my eyes and breathe. The scent helped too. Coffee and Alex.
“You smell good today,” I said to him.
“I don’t smell good other days?” He quipped.
“Not what I meant.”
“Mhmm. I dug out the body wash stuff Lukas gave me instead of just using yours. Felt bad always using your stuff. Didn’t want to use it up.”
“You don’t smell like Lukas. He uses cologne.”
“But I mix well with your coffee is what you’re telling me?”
“Yep,” I said into the cup. “I’d totally be down for morning sex with you…
after coffee.”
Alex laughed. He leaned forward to kiss me, which I allowed despite the niggle in the back of my brain about my own morning breath. “Drink your coffee.”
I settled into the cup of creamy butterscotch coffee, and after about ten minutes dragged my lazy ass downstairs to the bathroom to shower and clean up. Alex refilled my coffee cup as he danced around the house, organizing and cleaning as was becoming his habit. His tastes in music were a bit more eclectic than mine as I’d learned on the drive. He could appreciate pop music and had even added a few songs to his playlist that came from the Top 40 stations, but in general he preferred rock. As I combed my hair and washed my face, Bad Wolves’ remake of the song “Zombie” by the Cranberries rolled on repeat between a handful of Adele R&B and Lewis Capaldi’s heartbreak stuff. Alex only had a few dance songs in his mix, like Bruno Mars, Jason Derulo, and even the duet of Justin Bieber and Ed Sheeran, which I knew he’d got from listening to me play it, while the rest of his picks slid from the grunge of classic Nirvana to the nonstop angst of Three Days Grace.
Alex sang along unabashedly, his voice while good and pleasant, lacked training of any kind. I suspected if he had training, he might actually be the sort of phenomenal that made people superstars. He wasn’t casually good like a lot of people were, but that firm and confident tenor strength of a lot of rock greats. It never ceased to stun me at how good he was at so many random things without really trying. A true jack-of-all-trades, I supposed.
His tone became a little breathy after a while, sounding a bit like he was running or something. Not really possible in the small space. I finished cleaning up and returned to the main area to find him following along with some sort of kickboxing exercise video on my computer. He had the sound off and was just following their moves to the beat of his own music. It all looked like he’d done it before, with no jerkiness of movement or hesitation. Punch, kick, squat.
“Hey,” he said a little breathless. “I’m so out of shape.”
“You look good to me,” I said letting my gaze roll over him. Sure he was still thin and needed to put on more muscle, but I suspected it wouldn’t be a challenge for him to get back to tip-top shape now that he had stable living conditions. I’d never been into gym bunnies or drawn to every man with a six pack of abs. I liked my men scruffy with something to hold on to. Feeding Alex back to a normal weight was on the top of my list for more than one reason.
He grinned, stopped, and ran his hand over his beard. “I’ll have to find a gym or something back home. Used to run every day, or hike with a giant backpack. We had a couple routines too, random stuff we did to keep in shape while we were waiting on orders. Our troop was never one to sit around with our thumbs up our asses. I think the ghost tours helped. Running around NOLA chasing after ghosts and hauling boxes for you. What a way to keep in shape.”
“We need to run away from ghosts, not toward them,” I told him as I rinsed my cup in the sink.
“You might be in the wrong profession.”
“Jerk. I’m a craft shop owner. You said so yourself.”
“And a legendary tour guide of the most haunted city in the world,” Alex said.
“I think that might actually be Paris, but you’d have to Google it.”
He reached for me, pulling me into his arms and settling himself around me like there was no place he’d rather be. I really enjoyed his regard and hoped it stayed this way for a while. Before him, I had to admit I wasn’t a very touchy-feely person. There was something different in the way he held me, hugged me, and swept me into the warmth of his personal glow that made it all okay.
“Breakfast with the group, then off to play with fabric,” Alex reminded me, kissing my forehead and then my nose.
“I love fabric,” I sighed.
“I know where I rate,” he teased.
“Slightly above fabric,” I said.
“Mhmm,” he agreed lips meeting mine for a deeper kiss.
“This will not get us out the door,” I said into the kiss, his body pressed to mine. “You, thrown on the bed so I can have my way with you, but not out the door.”
He laughed and pulled away. “Okay, okay, let’s get this over with.” He reached for my hand and tugged us toward the door when someone knocked. We both stopped like deer in headlights. Was someone coming to get us? The crackle coating in the glass on the door made it impossible to make out whomever was standing outside. Alex opened the door.
Detective Manning stood there.
“Morning, Detective,” Alex greeted him.
“Morning. Do the two of you have a minute? I have a few follow-up questions I’d like to ask.” He waved at the house.
Alex and I stepped back in unison to let him in. The space suddenly felt very small. Three people was far too many for this tiny house. “We were just headed to breakfast before going to the convention,” Alex said. “How can we help?”
Detective Manning pulled out his notes. “When the two of you stopped for Joe, did you see anyone else out there?”
“No,” Alex said. I wasn’t sure how to answer without sounding crazy. Yes? A shadow? A monster of many faces?
“How about you, Mr. Richards?” Manning pressed. “Something spooked you, made you run. What did you see?”
“Just shadows,” I said, deciding to go with the basic truth. “Maybe reflections from the headlights. I don’t know what it was. It was why I stopped in the first place. I saw a shadow.”
“Joe in the road,” he confirmed.
“I guess.”
“You don’t sound very certain.”
I shrugged. “Shadows are shadows, right? Tricks of light and our vision? I’d think you’d get more answers from Joe at this point.”
“Any idea why he was out there?” Alex asked. “It was a bit of a drive away from the B&B where their phones were.”
“One phone. They had one on them. Notes from one of Miss Cartwright’s discussions online indicated they were seeking out ghost stories. Hunting for something called the ‘Rake,’ have you heard of it?”
“In legend, yes,” I said. “It’s a very thin looking man-like creature with long limbs and claws that began in rumor on reddit a few years ago, I believe.”
“Is that something you experience often in your ghost hunting tours?” Manning wondered.
“A Rake? Never. Not even the garden utensil type as we live in the Quarter of New Orleans,” I said. “Our tours are specific to New Orleans history. And since the Rake is a new monster, I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of anything showing up in the Quarter. Never even done much research on it, though I think it pops up in the paranormal groups sometimes. Much like the Loch Ness monster does.”
“You said they were talking to someone online about it. Like from our tour group page on Facebook? If that was the case than Byrony was on there as an alias since she was blocked from the group,” Alex said.
“Why was she blocked?” Manning asked.
“Because she irritated the moderators. Why ask us? Doesn’t Joe have better answers?”
“Mr. Thomas has been very incoherent. He’s been remanded to medical custody for the time being.”
“In a mental ward?” Alex asked, obviously recognizing the comment for what it was. “Is he a danger to himself?”
“He’s had some self-harm attempts,” Manning admitted.
“Could he have hurt Byrony then?” I asked.
“We’re pretty sure he did, just not set on the motive yet.”
“Motive,” Alex said. “She’s dead?”
“She is. I’m sorry. I know neither of you knew her well.”
“Wow,” I said, feeling a cold bit of numbness settle in my gut with the confirmation. “I guess I didn’t know him at all, but wouldn’t have thought he’d do something to her.”
“There’s still a lot to learn,” Manning said. His stoic façade made me wonder how many bodies he saw in his lifetime to make him that cold. I barely knew her and suspected she was dead, but still
found myself shocked by the announcement being official. “You don’t seem all that surprised Mr. Caine.”
I glanced up at Alex, his expression wasn’t much different than Manning’s.
“I’m an ex-military man,” Alex said. “Seen my share of bad. And that girl has been gone a few days. I follow the news enough to know that’s never a good sign. I probably would have been more surprised if you had found her alive and partying somewhere while her boyfriend had a breakdown. I guess I just don’t have as much faith in humanity as Micah does. You wouldn’t be here still asking questions if it were a simple partner abuse case.”
“No,” Manning agreed. “We do see those all too often.” He stared at my face, and I knew he was seeing the bruises and the stitches but recalling other people. At least I hoped he was.
“You know how I got these,” I said. “Car in the woods.”
“Why was the car out so far? Was that even on the GPS?” Alex looked at me.
“I don’t remember seeing anything.”
“Service road to get to coordinates to see the ‘Rake,’” Manning said. “Mr. Thomas’s phone was plugged into the GPS much like yours was. They were a little off location, but not far. Must have stayed in the car longer, possibly looking to spot anything from the safety inside the vehicle.”
“Do you think there’s something out in those woods, Detective?” Alex asked. “A Rake?”
“Mythical monsters, no. A human one, sadly, yes.”
What did that mean?
“Anyway,” Manning pulled a wad of paper out of his back pocket and unfolded the mess, trying to straighten it out. “If I show you a conversation we pulled from social media, can you tell me if you recognize the names?” He was looking at me.