Homicide and Hot Tubs

by Annabel Chase

  I placed both hands on his chest in an effort to put distance between us—and cop a feel in the process. “I get it. There are things in mine too that I’m not proud of.” Probably way more than him and he’d had hundreds of years to amass his embarrassments.

  His hand moved to smooth my hair. “I like you, Eloise, and I think we really do make a great team in the office.”

  “And you want to keep it in the office. Cool. We’re done. Good talk.” My hands reluctantly slipped away from that incredibly defined chest and I tried to resume my review of the file.

  “There’s a reason Jules and I didn’t work out.”

  “Because she’s violent and aggressive?” I pictured Jules responding to daily aggravations like leaving the toilet seat up with a roundhouse kick to the face.

  “She is that,” he agreed. “It’s true there were other reasons, but the main one was me.” He drew in a deep breath. “I was married once during my mortal life.”

  He wouldn’t be the first guy I kissed that I didn’t know was married. “And what happened? She left you for the demigod of Amazon? Wait, no that wasn’t a thing back then.”

  His expression grew serious. “She didn’t leave me, Eloise. She died.”

  I studied his face—that exquisite face with its chiseled features and sensual lips that made my knees buckle. “You didn’t kill her, did you? Because I have really had enough confessions of murder to last me the rest of my afterlife.”

  He offered a sad smile. “No, I didn’t kill her, but after she died, I killed a lot of innocent people.”

  I became perfectly still, digesting his statement. So much for no more confessions of murder. “What do you mean?”

  “We had a son together. When a plague swept through our village, they succumbed. I’d been away and narrowly avoided death. When I returned home, they were gone, as well as half our village. My grief drove me mad and I ended up causing mass destruction and not a day goes by that I don’t regret my actions.”

  I tilted my head. “What kind of destruction? Like you sent a herd of cattle through the village shop or you left a massive mess in the produce aisle at the farmer’s market?”

  “Much worse than that,” he said, raking a hand through his hair. “I became my father’s son at that point. I raged, causing storms that resulted in floods. Innocent people drowned, their lives swept away with the rubble. Later, when I finally died, I ended up here, knowing that my wife and son were likely in the Elysian Fields.”

  My heart stuttered. “Which means that you’re forever separated from them,” I said softly.

  The look he gave me answered my question. “It’s no less than I deserve. I think of how many other families are permanently separated in the afterlife because of my own selfish display of emotions.”

  “Cole, that’s awful. I don’t know what to say.”

  “You see? My afterlife is best when I keep to myself.”

  “It sounds like you’ve gotten pretty good at building walls,” I said. That explained some of the comments I’d heard in relation to Cole. That they were pleased to see him involved in the community and that sort of thing.

  “I don’t deserve connections,” he said. “So the fact that I feel one…It doesn’t matter. It can’t matter.”

  I wasn’t much of a hugger, so I simply placed my hand over his. “Thank you for telling me. I feel less mortified now.”

  “It is all about you, isn’t it?” He seemed more amused than annoyed.

  “My mother is a raging narcissist. Have I not mentioned that yet?” I sat on the edge of the table. “Seriously. I’m sorry that happened to you and I’m sorry that your reaction wasn’t stellar. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you.” I’d never loved anyone so much that I’d go mad with grief. The worst thing I did—aside from my usual revenge plots—was call out of work and binge episodes of Real Housewives while housing a gallon of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

  “I’m only telling you this because I want you to understand that…it isn’t you. I really want us to continue working together. Being around you has reminded me that there’s still joy to be had in being here.”

  “I promise I won’t ruin it with any more drunken attempts to seduce you.”

  He wagged a finger at me. “No making promises you can’t keep.”

  I felt that spark come alive between us and I knew that he was right. There was a connection there. Even so, his rejection was for the best anyway. Knowing me, I’d alienate him within six months and be stuck running into him at the gym for eternity—which would make Divine Place more like Hell than purgatory.

  Cole held out a hand. “Now that we’ve cleared the air, how about we get to work, marshal?”

  I put my hand in his and let him tug me to my feet. “Ready when you are, deputy.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cole and I tracked down Linzy at a picnic site by the lake. It was a cozy spot, completely hidden from view by towering palm trees and thick bushes. The witch sat on the ground in a white chalk circle, eyes closed and legs crossed, surrounded by small rocks and candles. As I edged closer, I noticed an object in front of her inside the magic circle. It looked like a small piece of wood.

  Cole and I exchanged silent looks as we heard her chanting in Latin. I only knew it was Latin because I recognized quid pro quo, a phrase which I thought was only ever used in mob movies and Aladdin.

  I cleared my throat and her eyes flew open. “Oh,” she said, startled to see the two of us standing over her.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” I said.

  “I didn’t realize anyone else knew about this spot,” she said. Her knowing look suggested that she misunderstood our reason for being here. “I guess it is pretty private. That’s why I come here a lot to think.”

  “And to conjure spells.” I inclined my head toward the circle.

  Linzy looked down as though noticing her setup for the first time. “I was just practicing. I like to keep my skills current.” She snatched the wooden item from the ground and shoved it into her pocket.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Charmed stones and enchanted candles,” she said.

  “No, the thing you put in your pocket. It looked familiar.”

  With a guilty expression, she removed the item and held it in her open palm for inspection. “It isn’t what it looks like.”

  I moved closer to examine the object. “It’s not a reed?” I’d seen them in Akwan’s music room. He used them on the mouthpiece of his saxophone.

  “Well, yes. It is a reed, but I’m not trying to cover evidence.”

  “Of course not,” I said. “Why would you need to hide evidence when you’ve already confessed?”

  Linzy’s gaze met mine. “Who told you?” she asked softly.

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know you killed your husband and tried to cover it up.”

  She drew her knees to her chest and hugged her legs. “It was an accident. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t regret what happened.”

  I resisted the urge to look at Cole, knowing that her words might resonate with him. “Are you sure you’re not repeating a pattern?”

  She gasped. “You think I obliterated Akwan and am trying to cover it up?” Her gaze dropped to the circle. “This isn’t what you think, I swear. If you must know, I’m using the reed to help you. I want to know what happened to Akwan more than anyone.”

  “Have you forgotten your confession?” I asked.

  “Brigit told Simone who told Lazlo who told me that the sleeping potion wasn’t what obliterated him.”

  I was going to have to put a lock on the lab door to keep out the goddess of healing and squealing.

  Cole joined her on the ground. I would’ve attempted to sit cross-legged too, but I knew I couldn’t do it without pulling a muscle. I’d embarrassed myself in front of Cole enough for one week.

  “Tell us what’s really going on, Linzy,” he prodded. “If you’re tryi
ng to help, then we’re all ears.”

  “I’m trying to communicate with Akwan,” Linzy said.

  Oh, wow. Not the answer I was expecting. “Linzy, he’s gone. Oblivion. The final death. How could you expect to communicate with him?”

  She raised her chin to look at me. “When you were alive, people you knew went to psychics, right? Because they believed they could commune with the dead. And some people probably laughed or rolled their eyes because they believed that there was no way to reach them.”

  I raised my hand. “I would’ve been an eye roller.”

  “Exactly. And now you’re here and you know it might’ve been possible.”

  I started to see her point. “So you think there’s another level beyond this one? That we think there’s a final death, but maybe Akwan has just gone to the next place?”

  She nodded eagerly. “Why not? There’s ascension and descension, so we already know there are places we can go from here. Why not another level of purgatory?”

  Cole’s exhale was long and slow. “I don’t think so, Linzy. Believe me, I’d like to believe that as much as you, but I think we’d know by now if it were true.”

  I tried to wrap my head around the idea. It felt like standing in front of a mirror and seeing an endless reflection of me, standing in front of mirrors. As vain as I was, the image was headache-inducing.

  “Why would we know?” Linzy asked. “We’re all here. We haven’t reached another level. Your father might be there too, Cole.”

  Cole flinched at the mention of Zeus. They didn’t have the best relationship, so I doubted he was interested in pursuing Linzy’s theory just for another chance to be neglected by his father.

  “Dante wrote about nine circles of Hell,” I said. “Why not nine levels of purgatory?”

  Linzy leaned forward and picked up one of the rocks with lines marked on it. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing I’ve tried has worked. I’m not giving up though. If I have to try every spell in every grimoire in Divine Place, I’ll spend the rest of my afterlife doing it.”

  Her declaration sank in. “You really loved him, didn’t you?” I asked. Nobody would go to this much trouble over someone they obliterated on purpose and there was nothing to suggest she’d done anything to obliterate him accidentally either. The sleeping potion wasn’t enough.

  Teardrops clung to the witch’s eyelashes. “I thought we had a real chance at happiness, at least for a few thousand years. I never dreamed he’d be snuffed out of existence at the very start of our relationship. It’s so unfair.”

  “Are there really that many spells that might open communication with another realm?” Cole asked.

  I wondered whether he was thinking about trying to communicate with his wife and son.

  “Not really,” she said glumly. “If I run out of options, there’s always…” She stopped abruptly.

  “Black magic?” I finished for her.

  Her eyes popped. “You know about that too?”

  I shrugged. “I’m the marshal. It’s my job to know things.” Of course, I’d prefer to be like Tyrion Lannister from Game of Thrones and drink and know things, but it is what it is. “You’re avoiding black magic because you know it’s partly why you’re here in the first place.”

  Linzy scratched her thighs in a nervous gesture. “Black magic is more powerful. I know there are spells that might reach him.”

  “That’s assuming your theory is even correct,” I said. “That sounds like a pretty big risk for a few seconds of chitchat.”

  “He’s worth it,” she said, lifting her chin in defiance.

  “Is he?” I asked. Akwan seemed decent enough for what I’d learned, but I wasn’t convinced he was worth an eternity of torture.

  “Linzy, if you use black magic here,” Cole said, “no matter what the outcome is, you could descend. Is that what you want?”

  Linzy plucked a blade of grass from the ground and tossed it aside. “No, of course not. We don’t know that will happen though. It’s not a guarantee.”

  I pointed to my badge. “If you want to ask Akwan what happened to him in order to help, don’t endanger yourself. That’s my job and I intend to do it.”

  Linzy gave me a defeated look. “But you’re here accusing me…This is why I never wanted villagers to know about my past. I knew it would come back to haunt me.”

  “And now I know this is a false lead and I’ll direct my attention elsewhere,” I said. “That’s how an investigation works.” According to all the television shows I’d seen. “I won’t let you or Akwan down, Linzy. I promise, but you have to swear that you won’t use black magic. I can’t risk any more unusual occurrences here right now or Hera might decide to obliterate me just to see if the afterlife goes back to normal.”

  The witch studied me for a long moment. “Okay, I promise.”

  “Is there a special promise that witches make? A blood oath or something?”

  “A promise is good enough.”

  I held up my palm. “Because I’m willing. I’ll use a sharp…rock.” I reached awkwardly for one of the stones along the perimeter, prompting a chuckle from Cole.

  “It’s fine,” she insisted. “No blood required.”

  Phew. That was a relief because I hated the sight of blood. As much as I wanted awesome boobs forever, I knew I’d make a terrible vampire.

  “I miss him so much,” she said. “It’s like a physical pain.”

  I wanted to tell her that I knew what she was going through, but I didn’t. I’d never felt about anyone the way she felt about Akwan. Sure, I’d mourned the death of relationships, not like this though. My bouts of mourning involved heading down to The Cheese Wheel for a night of shots and karaoke. Sometimes, I’d even get lucky and meet someone else right away so that I could avoid the mourning period all together. Most of my therapists didn’t think that kind of habitual rebound was healthy. They wanted me to feel my feelings, whatever that meant. I’d tried it a few times and I couldn’t get the hang of it, so I gave up.

  “I understand,” Cole said. “I can tell you the pain becomes less intense over time. Eventually, you might only feel it when there’s a reminder, like a certain scent.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Linzy said. “Because I didn’t mind Divine Place so much before, but now I see him everywhere I look. Even the deli makes me want to curl up in a ball because I picture him ordering a pastrami on rye.” Her voice cracked.

  “I’m really sorry, Linzy. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make it all go away.” Mostly, I wished I could wave a magic wand for the sake of it because that would be awesome.

  “What about the other confessions I’ve heard about?” Linzy asked. “None of those panned out?”

  Sheesh. Was nothing confidential in this place? “Not yet, but something will. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself in my old life, it’s that I was a monumental pain in the ass and I intend to apply those skills here too.”

  “I can confirm said skills,” Cole added.

  She managed a small smile. “That sounds promising.”

  I started to collect her rocks and candles so that she wouldn’t be tempted to continue with her experiment. “Maybe think about using that sleeping potion that you bought for Akwan on yourself. Get some rest and you’ll be able to think clearly.”

  Linzy nodded absently. “I guess I could do that. I haven’t been able to focus on myself. All I think about is Akwan.”

  “That’s because you’re a typical woman, worrying about everyone except yourself,” I said. “You need to take care of yourself, Linzy. Akwan may be gone, but you’re still here.”

  “I am still here,” she said softly.

  “There are villagers here that care about you. I know Jakob still does. Let him be a friend to you now when you really need one.” And if it happened to lead to a night of sympathy sex, then it would be a win for both of them. Sympathy sex was highly underrated in my experience.

  Linzy gazed at a palm tree. “You’re
probably right. I need to stay strong like a beautiful palm tree. They may bend, but they never break.”

  “Actually, the beautiful ones like queen palms are more likely to topple over in high winds. It’s the ugly sabal palms that can withstand hurricane-force winds.” Thank you, Weather Channel.

  “Okay then.” Linzy pushed back her shoulders. “I need to stay strong like an ugly palm tree.”

  “You should think about taking up yoga,” I said. “I hear it’s great for helping you focus while maintaining awkward positions like the one you’re in now.”

  “That somehow manages to be both helpful and insulting,” Cole said.

  I gave him a bright smile. “What can I say? I’m all about multitasking.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cole and I parted ways after our interrogation of Linzy. I headed back to the lab to cross Linzy off the whiteboard and chat with Brigit about the definition of confidential. The first thing I noticed was that Akwan’s body was gone. I stood beside the slab and gently touched the empty space. There was no trace of him. It really did seem as though he’d been blinked out of existence. It felt strange this time, probably because I hadn’t spent time with Zeus’s body after landing on him. Brigit had taken ownership of the body then.

  I’d just finished making notes of my conversation with Linzy when a knock at the door interrupted me.

  “Louis,” I said, surprised. “How did you know to find me here?”

  “I stopped by the HOA and the little guy told me to check here.”

  “Little guy with pointy ears or little guy who looks ready to vomit if you speak to him?”

  “The vomit one, definitely,” Louis said.

  “That’s Barney, the mage.” I stood in front of the whiteboard to try to block his view of the notes. “How can I help you? If you’re eager to be arrested, I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait.”

  “It isn’t that.” He hesitated. “I know this might sound heartless…”

  I held up a hand. “Let me stop you right there. Hearts are overrated.”

  The vampire seemed relieved. “In that case, would it be okay if I took Akwan’s saxophone to have it valued? I’m interested in buying it and I need to have it assessed.”