Spirited 1 (34 page)

“Odd,” Seth agreed, crossing to his dresser to retrieve a fresh pair of boxers and socks. He set them on the bathroom sink. “What else?”

“Tons, but it’s the last entry you want to read. It’s different from the others. Listen—‘The Knight of the Realm is not what he seems. He’s betrayed us all. I, alone, must seek justice and make this right. I’ve called upon the English King to help me, and he’s promised aid. But I fear the journey on my own. Without my beloved prince at my side, how shall I survive? Whom can I entrust with the sparkling weight of my secrets?’”

Jones fell silent.

Seth checked his phone but the line was still open. “That’s it? ‘The sparkling weight of my secrets’?”

“Yes,
my
liege
.”

Seth wasn’t amused. “I get it, I’m the English King.”

“Yeah,
you
got it the first time around. I had to read that craptastic piece of literature three times before I could stay awake long enough to even notice your name in there.” Jones yawned. He spoke again but his voice was muffled, as if the phone’s mouthpiece were covered. “Thanks, Harmon.”

Seth turned to Jules, who watched him silently from the bed. Her expression was open, curious. “I gotta go to work,” he mouthed.

She nodded, then sat up and wrapped the top sheet around her body, toga-style.

“Harmon just handed me a note from Captain Peterson.” Jones returned. “
Whoa!
It says, ‘Tell English to get his ass in here for a meeting at six thirty.’ What’d you do to piss off Peterson so much that he called for a meeting
tonight
?”

“Nothing. I haven’t seen him all day.” Seth wracked his brain. He’d left a voice mail for his captain asking to discuss his concerns about Jules’s safety. Surely that hadn’t ticked off his captain. Had it? “I thought Peterson was sick at home.”

“Guess not,” Jones replied. “But I haven’t seen him either. His office light is out and the door’s closed. Guess he’s coming in for the meeting too?”

Seth grunted noncommittally. “Hey, check my desk and phone for messages. See if he left a reply to my request for a protection detail.”

“For Jules? Never mind, stupid question. Of course it’s for her. Hang on.” Several heartbeats passed, then Jones said, “Sorry. Nothing. Maybe it’ll be a short meeting?”

“Let’s hope so. I don’t like this.” Seth wasn’t comfortable leaving Jules alone again. But he couldn’t ignore this break or the command performance issued by Peterson. Shoving a hand through his hair, he said, “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

 • • • 

J
ULES COULD HARDLY
breathe as she stared at Seth. From the moment he’d risen from the bed, his aura pulsed a vibrant emerald green. How could she see his aura and why did the ability come and go? With ghosts, Jules saw them all the time. Why was it different with him?

Strong emotions.

The only times she’d seen his aura was when he experienced powerful emotions. And in a strange way, it made sense. When he was angry or worried to the point of being overprotective, his emotions seemed to radiate from him.

While she didn’t see auras around other living people, she didn’t mind seeing his. It only made him more attractive. More accessible.

He ended his call and turned to her. Standing unabashedly naked in the middle of the bedroom floor, he tapped his cell against his chin and regarded her. “Precious, I need to go in to the station. I don’t know how long I’ll be. There might be a break in my case.”

“No problem. You go take your shower.” She gestured to the bathroom door where he’d hung a black shirt, blazer, and tie on a hanger. Although she couldn’t see it, she bet there were slacks on that hanger too. “I’ll let myself out. I need to check my messages anyway. If Big Jim or April called the apartment, they’ll worry if they don’t hear from me.”

“I’d prefer it if you’d stay here,” Seth said, propping his hands on his waist. He appeared unaware he stood gloriously naked. “No one knows you’re here. It’s safe.”

“You think I’m in danger?” Jules flinched.

“You know I do.” He nodded. “It’s why you’re here. Let me do my job and protect you.”

“Is that why you brought me here last night?” A sick feeling went through her. Could last night have meant more to her than to him? She rose from the bed, holding the sheet firmly around her body with her good arm. “Did you sleep with me out of some kind of . . . of . . .
civic duty
?”

“Jules, don’t be ridiculous.” Seth reached for her, but she sidled away from his touch. She shuffled to his dresser, where she’d left her purse, clothes, and keys in a pile, last night. Grabbing her clothes and purse, she hugged them to her body and awkwardly searched for her missing keys.

“They’re in the kitchen,” Seth said. He hadn’t moved from his position in the middle of the floor.

“How did they get there? I saw you put them back on the dresser after you brought over the baklava.”

Seth closed his eyes on an exhale, then opened them again. “I didn’t want you to leave while I was at work today, so I took them with me.”

“Who do you think you are?” Jules shouted, shuffling across the floor to stand toe-to-toe with him.

Seth’s emerald aura expanded and pulsed like a living thing around him. “I think I’m the only person who believes you’re in danger. I
think
I’m the one person who will do anything to keep you safe. And I know that I’ll lose my damned mind if one more thing happens to you.

“I told you last night, cops who get involved with people on their cases get sloppy. I’m trying not to be sloppy. I’m trying to protect the woman I adore and do my goddamned job at the same time. So please, stay here and do not let
anyone
in until I get back.”

Seth panted as if he’d just finished a triathlon and his aura shifted between barely outlining his body to washing the bedroom in green light. Not once in his speech had he paused long enough for Jules to reply. Good thing.

She doubted he’d have told her what he felt about her, had she interrupted him. And really, at that moment, that was what she needed to know. It was beautiful, freeing. Not quite as good as love, but a heck of a lot better than being his unwanted responsibility.

“Seth,” Jules said, shuffling closer to him. She wrapped her free arm around his waist, then hissed in pain as his chest came into contact with her injured one. The clothes and purse fell from her grasp and onto Seth’s bare feet.

“Ow!” Seth hopped back, but flung out his hands to her hips, steadying her so she didn’t fall. “What have you got in your purse? Rocks?”

Jules glanced down at her clutch lying amid her scattered clothes on the floor, then back to Seth. For a reason she couldn’t name, she started laughing. Maybe it was the sight of him standing naked, massaging his big toe. Maybe it was that nervous release that people need after a highly charged moment. Or maybe it was the sheer giddiness she felt as she saw his aura throb green then bright red and green again. “You adore me?”

He stopped massaging his foot and chuckled.

“Ah, precious. I know it’s crazy. We’ve only known each other a few days, but yes, I’m wild about you. I’d do anything to keep you safe. Not because it’s my job. But because it’s you.”

I love you.

Oh, she wanted to say it out loud, but the words didn’t come. Instead she kissed him. It was warm and sweet and ended all too soon.

“The prince!” he said, as if solving some puzzle. He glanced heavenward, then back to her. Satisfaction lit his features before his brow furrowed. Gently, he cupped her face in his hands. “Precious, there’s one more thing. Your
friend
Mason Hart might be tied to my case.”

“What?” She laughed her disbelief. “The burglaries you mentioned? That doesn’t make sense. Mason doesn’t need money. Why would he rob anything? Besides, his biggest worry right now is that his fiancée won’t return his calls.”

Seth stepped back, a stunned expression on his face. “You know his fiancée?”

“Just what he told me about her on Saturday when he came to buy her flowers. Why?” A sense of foreboding slithered through her belly.

“The body in the Dumpster,” Seth said, slowly, “was his fiancée, Aimee-Lynn Masters.”

Jules started trembling. Heck, she wasn’t trembling; she was practically convulsing.

Seth steadied her and urged her to sit back down on the bed, cursing the entire way.

“He never told me her name.” She shook her head, unable to process the information. “Seth, he bought her flowers. Told me he wanted me to have breakfast with the two of them so she would know Friday night had just been a misunderstanding.”

“What had been a misunderstanding?” The bed dipped as Seth sat down beside her. “I thought you told me everything you remembered.”

Heat scorched her cheeks. “I didn’t mention it because it was embarrassing and I didn’t think it had anything to do with your case.” Fear whipped through her and she turned to face him. “Please believe me. I didn’t know Mason’s fiancée was the dead woman.”

“Just tell me what happened that you thought was unimportant,” he said, sounding all business. “I need you to tell me as quickly as you can.”

“Okay, um . . .” Jules tried to will her shaking under control and told Seth about Mason
mistaking
her for his date at the reunion.

“And you’re positive you never saw them together?” Seth asked.

“Absolutely.” She nodded. “I hadn’t seen Mason until I turned around after he kissed my neck.”

“Tell me again what he said to you then.” Seth leaned over and yanked a note pad and pen from his bedside table. The move gave her a clear view of his naked backside. As delectable as the sight was, it didn’t loosen the knots in her belly. “He said, ‘You’re right. Let’s do it. Let’s do it now. Tonight.’”

“Any idea what he was talking about?” Seth asked, then immediately followed up with another question. “Did you ask him about it when he went to your shop?”

“No idea what it meant and I didn’t ask. I just wanted to forget it. It was really embarrassing. He told me he’d kissed me in the dark, thinking I was her,” she explained. Seth frowned at his notebook and she repeated, “Seth, that’s all I can remember. You asked me to trust you. I need you to trust me too.”

“I do.” He snapped his gaze to hers and his expression softened. “I believe you. But now I’m more convinced than ever that you need protection. I can’t take you with me to the station, can I?”

She shuddered and all the blood rushed from her head to her toes.

“No, I see I can’t.” He answered his own question, rubbing her back soothingly with one hand. “You don’t have to go there, precious. It’s okay.”

Seth glanced around his bedroom as if searching for information or inspiration. He shook his head. “If your cell phone ended up with Hart’s fiancée after the crash in the bathroom, then what happened to your keys? Did you ever find them? Did you get the locks changed on your apartment door?”

“No,” she said, and an icy sensation skittered down her back. “When I tried to call the super about the window, I remembered April told me that he was out of town until Wednesday.”

“And it’s only Tuesday. Crap.” Seth scrubbed a hand down his face. “Okay, that settles it, you cannot go home. Stay here. Keep the shades down and the door locked. Don’t open it for anyone. I’ll be back as soon as I can. When I come back, we’ll sit down and go over every detail you can remember. We’ll figure out how to get you out of this mess.”

Every detail included seeing Aimee-Lynn’s ghost. Could she share her secret with him?

Would he believe her if she did?

CHAPTER 17

F
IFTEEN MINUTES LATER,
Seth had showered and was in his car headed to the station. The sun hung low, peering like a ball of fire between the hotels littering the Oceanfront district. Without a cloud in the sky to dull it, the brilliant yellow orb was nearly blinding. And the afternoon rush-hour traffic crawled.

He used his time behind the wheel to mentally review what Jones had said.

Aimee-Lynn named four characters in her journals. The Princess, the Jack of Fools, the Prince of Hearts, and the Knight of the Realm . . . she’d left them clues. Obviously, she was the Princess. Could she have really been so pedestrian as to have named her own fiancé, Mason Hart, the Prince of Hearts and Jack Kells the Jack of Fools?

Yes, she could have. She’d named Seth in her story as well as the English King. Okay, so all this was a leap. A gut instinct when what he needed was proof. He needed to get his hands on those journals.

Up ahead, traffic came to a standstill. “Shit!”

Seth glanced at the clock on his dashboard. Quarter past six. If the cars didn’t start moving soon, he’d never make the meeting on time. He needed to call Jones. His partner could cover for him until he made it in. Maybe Jones would even consent to reading a few more passages from Aimee-Lynn’s journals to him.

Before he could bring up Jones’s number, Seth’s cell rang. The caller ID read Tidewater Police Station. Seth pressed Send. “Detective English.”

“English, where are you?” Captain Peterson snapped.