Spark

by R K Close

  “Like some dead guy stalking you isn’t terrible? Besides, even if you have something wrong with your head, which you do, obviously, you still should have told me.” She looked hurt.

  “Don’t be like that. I wasn’t sure that it even happened. One minute he was there and the next he was gone, and then I’d lost an hour of time,” I said, realizing it sounded worse with each revelation. I really had been avoiding the truth.

  “Jess, this is serious. You should call Liam and ask if he left the flower. I’d feel better if he had. I’d also like to know what happened after we left. I hope the guys are okay,” she said, suddenly looking concerned for an entirely new reason.

  “I don’t have his number, only the station number,” I confessed.

  “Are you serious? The man slept on your porch, and you haven’t exchanged numbers?” Daisy asked, incredulous.

  “It's worse.” I paused and bite my lip. “He kissed me again,” I say sheepishly.

  “Shut up, you did not!” Daisy says excitedly.

  Daisy’s eyes were as round as saucers, and she looked as though she might explode from excitement. Gone was her annoyance at my poor decisions or my lack of personal well-being.

  “Tell me every detail. Was he a good kisser? I’ll bet he was. How could that gorgeous specimen be a bad kisser? That would be like a cruel cosmic joke,” she said, excitedly answering her own questions before I could. I laughed, relieved the subject and mood had taken a better turn.

  When she finally settled down, I said, “He’s either an excellent kisser, or it’s just been so long that any kiss seems exceptional.”

  I knew Liam was a good kisser because I never wanted it to end. It was one of those kisses.

  “I can’t believe you held out on me,” Daisy said, shaking her head. “I’m emotionally wounded, I hope you know.” She pouted, making her point.

  “I really am sorry. I meant to tell you. It’s just the timing has been horrible, and I wasn’t sure if something was starting with Liam and I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it if it was nothing.” I slumped in my chair and curled my fingers possessively around the coffee cup. “I’m still not certain.”

  Daisy tilted her head to the side. “What makes you think he wouldn’t want a hot mess like you?” she teased.

  “It’s not that. There seems to be a mutual attraction, or at least I believe so. But Liam has secrets, and I don't feel confident starting something with someone who I’m not at least optimistic about trusting,” I said.

  “What could Liam have in his closet that would be that bad? Maybe he hasn’t paid his taxes for several years. Or maybe he was arrested for drugs when he was a kid. Or, maybe—”

  “Or maybe he’s hiding something serious. He’s convinced that the guy with the dead man’s prints is a vampire,” I said.

  Daisy paused. “He said that?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Well, he hinted at it, and then he asked if I believed in vampires.”

  “So, he brought it up? He didn’t come right out and say I think this guy is a vampire, right?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t that direct, but yes, he did—sort of,” I offered.

  Daisy scrunched her face up as if deep in thought. “Hmm. That is interesting. That explains his rush to get the guy out of town. Why or how would Liam know this?” she said, most likely thinking out loud.

  She suddenly slammed her hands on the table, making me jump. My coffee sloshed out of the mug and onto my hand and dripping onto the table. “Really?” I exclaimed, grabbing napkins. Thankfully, it was no longer hot enough to burn.

  “Sorry. What if Liam’s a vampire?” she asked, her eyes going wide with the possibility.

  “Nope. He’s warm and hot-blooded. Too much so to be a vampire,” I said, holding back a laugh.

  “Then what about a vampire hunter? Hey! That could be it. I think we’re on to something,” she said excitedly.

  “Do not include me in these delusions. I still expect to find a logical explanation for the fingerprints. I just need to talk to Zoey first.”

  My phone buzzed on the table, and I reached for it. My boss’s name showed on the screen. What was he calling so early for? I wasn’t even due in today.

  “Good morning, Ken,” I said. Daisy pointed to an imaginary watch on her wrist and made a mad face that made me smile.

  I listened for several moments as he spoke. Daisy watched me curiously.

  “Yes, I understand. We’ll get on it. Daisy’s sitting right here. Okay. Thank you for saying so. I’ll look for your text. Goodbye,” I said, then ended the call.

  “What was that all about? You look white as a sheet,” Daisy said, looking concerned.

  “There’s been another murder,” I said.

  Daisy looked as shocked as I felt. “He’s calling it a murder?” she asked.

  “This time there’s no doubt. He wants us to get to the crime scene ASAP. He’ll text me the address.”

  “Well, crap. What a way to be vindicated,” Daisy said sadly. “I’ll grab my backpack from the car. Do I have time to take a quick shower?” she asked,on her way to the front door.

  “Sure. Make it a quick one,” I said, heading to my room to pull my wet hair into a slick bun. Mr. Boss had apologized for not backing me on the original report. I’d rather have been wrong about this. There was no positive spin on the price of proving me right.

  “Jess?” I heard Daisy call from the door. I turned away from the hall and went to see what she needed.

  Daisy was standing in the front doorway, looking back at me over her shoulder. This time, she was the pale one.

  “What is it?” I asked, coming to peer around her. She stepped back, and I gasped.

  My front porch was covered in dozens of long-stemmed white lilies. I remembered that white lilies were the flower for death.

  18

  Liam

  I was still off shift for another couple of days. Cole and Seth were meeting me at the Toasted Squirrel for breakfast. We met there for breakfast or sometimes just a cup of coffee several times a week.

  There was more traffic parked along the streets than usual for this time of day. As I slowed the truck to a snail's pace, I saw police cruisers blocking the road and several groups of people milling about and talking excitedly about something. Their gazes focused on the street I needed to get to.

  One of the deputies that I recognized was redirecting traffic to turn around in the small empty parking lot of a bike shop. I stopped as I reached the deputy and rolled down my window. He recognized me and approached the truck with a grim look.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Bad news. I’m not supposed to talk about it,” he said, looking around. “But I suppose you’d hear from the fire crew that responded.” He still didn’t look like he wanted to tell me, so I stayed quiet and waited. Whatever had happened had him upset.

  “It’s Henry. He’s dead—murdered, from what I hear,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s a damn shame. I don’t know what’s happening to our town these days.”

  The deputy didn’t need to say more than Henry for anyone to know that it was Henry Yazzie, owner of the Toasted Squirrel Cafe. I dreaded the day I’d hear about Henry passing, but I always expected it to be from a heart attack or some other health-related issue, never murder.

  “When did it happen?” I asked, feeling sick.

  “It’s still being investigated, but the best guess was after midnight and before three this morning,” the deputy said, pushing away from the truck and motioning me forward.

  I pulled forward with a heavy heart and too many troubled thoughts to count. I drove around the block to another street that allowed me to see the Squirrel from a distance. There were more police cruisers in the parking lot, and the restaurant was closed off with yellow crime scene tape.

  My heart ached. I picked up my cell phone as it buzzed on the seat next to me. Seth was calling, and Cole had already texted me. “You see this?” I asked when I an
swered Seth’s call.

  “Yeah, I just pulled up. I see you. What’s going on?” Seth asked. I spotted him on the opposite side of the intersection, sitting on his motorcycle, holding his phone.

  “It’s Henry. Someone murdered him last night, most likely after midnight,” I said. There was silence as he must have been doing the math and trying to come to grips with the possibility that I still didn’t want to face.

  “Damn it all to hell!” he finally said. “Let’s meet at the bakery on Aspen,” Seth suggested.

  “I’ll let Cole know,” I said, then ended the call. I sent Cole a quick text to meet us at the bakery.

  When I walked into Sugar Bear’s, there was a line at the counter. Seth and Cole were already sitting at one of the small metal tables. As I took a seat, a curvy woman with a pretty face set three cups of hot coffee down. “Let me know if you decide to indulge in a pastry,” she said, smiling. Her name tag said, Helen.

  “Thank you, Helen,” Cole said, giving her a brief smile.

  For a few moments, we just sat there. Maybe Cole and Seth were remembering Henry as I was. I finally broke the silence when darker thoughts intruded on the kinder memories.

  “We need to find out how he died,” I said, lowering my voice.

  “What does it matter? We know why he’s dead and who killed him,” Seth said, his face turning red from anger and emotion. I remembered what our father said about Seth a year after our mother died. He said that Seth felt things more deeply than most but was good at hiding it or burying his feelings deep.

  That entire year after our adopted mother had passed, I’d been jealous of the way Seth seemed to hold it together. I was the oldest, it should have been me handling the details and keeping things moving.

  “We don’t know that for sure,” I said.

  “Yeah, I think Seth’s right, Liam,” Cole said, looking as bad as I felt.

  In my heart, I knew it was true. I just didn’t want to admit that any of my actions contributed to the death of anyone, especially Henry Yazzie.

  “All right, but we still need to be one hundred percent sure that the vamp killed our friend. Agreed?” I asked.

  They both nodded. “If we confirm that Lorenzo killed Henry, we need to finish this, once and for all. Nobody else can suffer because I refused to take action,” I said, keeping my voice low. Seth and Cole leaned closer so our conversation wouldn’t be overheard at the busy bakery.

  “This isn’t all on you, Liam. We all made that call to force him to leave,” Cole said.

  “Cole’s right. This was a mutual decision. We did what we thought was best,” Seth offered.

  “He killed those two campers, and I knew the police wouldn’t be able to hold him, just like they couldn’t hold Alistair,” I said. “In the end, it’s my call, and my responsibility.”

  Alistair Wilson was the shifter I killed over eight years ago. Knowing I didn’t have a choice didn’t make it feel any better.

  Taking a life changed you in ways that were difficult to explain to others. It was a darkness that you kept locked down tight so that it never saw the light of day. It felt like a poison waiting to spread to every area of my life.

  As if reading my thoughts, Cole said, “You don’t have to carry another death alone. Let us help you do what we all know needs to be done. Damn it, Liam. We’re family.” I gave Cole a grim smile and patted his shoulder firmly.

  We were family. We were a pack. We’d do what we needed to survive and protect those we cared for. This was our home. If we couldn’t defend it, we didn’t deserve to call it home.

  I DROVE BY THE TOASTED Squirrel one more time. There was still a lot of activity, and now the news vans were there. I spotted the KUTV van and a few from Phoenix.

  From inside my truck, I scanned the area for Jessica. I was worried for her when I saw the way she reacted toward the vampire. And now that Henry had been killed, I was convinced that she would be the next target. Worse than that, I wasn’t entirely certain Lorenzo’s intentions were merely to kill Jessica.

  I didn’t know which would be worse, but I couldn’t allow myself to think about that and keep my wolf in check. When I spotted her, I got out of the truck and headed toward her.

  She was just finishing filming in front of the Squirrel. Daisy lowered her camera and gave Jess a thumbs up, but she wasn’t smiling. I was standing on the opposite end of the yellow tape, surrounded by curious bystanders.

  Jessica still picked me out of the crowd quickly. Her expression was one of concern and maybe relief. She motioned for me to join her. I skirted the taped off section of the parking lot and worked my way toward her direction.

  Daisy nodded at me, then continued to review the footage she’d just taken. When I was close enough, Jessica surprised me by throwing her arms around me and giving me a brief hug.

  I cautiously returned the embrace, taking in the scent of her. It was the same as in my dream. When she pulled away, looking embarrassed, I coughed to cover my own. “I...I was worried about you,” she said, sounding uncomfortable with the confession.

  The idea of her being worried about me, or even caring at all, made me smile. Then I remembered why we were there, and my smile faded, so did hers.

  “Did you know Henry?” I asked.

  “Didn’t everyone?” she said, looking sad. “He was a great guy.”

  I nodded. “Do you know how he was killed?”

  She and Daisy exchanged a look. “Same way the campers died is the unofficial word,” Jessica said, looking over her shoulder at the restaurant. “You probably know that he lived alone in the house attached to the diner.” I nodded again.

  She looked like she wanted to say something. “What is it?” I asked.

  Jessica looked anxious. “About last night...I don’t know what I said or did. I didn’t even know you were there.”

  Her words chilled me to the core. “I suspected something wasn’t right. I’m just glad Cole and Daisy were with you. I don’t want to think about what might have happened if he’d found you alone,” I said, the anger coloring my tone

  Jessica hugged herself. “I’m glad they were there too. There’s something else.” I waited for her to continue. “Someone left a white lily on my front porch last night.” She bit her lip and looked up at me with a hopeful look.

  I understood the question behind the statement. I shook my head, and her face fell. Seeing that look on her face was like a punch in the gut. “I’m sorry, but it wasn’t from me. I wish it were,” I added.

  She smiled weakly at me then. “That’s not all. This morning when I woke, the porch was littered with more white lilies.”

  My blood grew hot, and I had to turn away from her in order to control the rage boiling in me. My wolf was so close to the surface, if she looked hard, she might see it. I was shaking with anger. I needed to focus on my breathing.

  A small hand touched my arm. I froze. Her touch had a soothing effect on my wolf. All I wanted to do was protect Jessica—needed to. But so far, I’d failed. What kind of alpha was I?

  Finally, I turned around to find concern on her face. I wanted to hold her and tell her it would all be okay, but I didn’t. I had no claim to her. Things were already confusing between us. I shouldn’t push it further.

  “Liam?” she asked.

  “I’d take it as a threat, Jessica. You should not be alone.” I pulled out a scrap of paper. “Do you have a pen?” I asked.

  Daisy was there offering me a pen faster than I could get the words out.

  “Thanks,” I said, then wrote my cell phone number on an old receipt and handed it to her. “Call me, anytime. Don’t hesitate.”

  She took the paper and held it. “Thank you, Liam.”

  That was enough proof for me. I knew who the murderer was, and I also knew he was sniffing around Jessica. I might have killed him for that reason alone.

  “I’ll be around town all day, if you need me,” I said. I nodded at Daisy, who had been eavesdropping on every word. She waved
enthusiastically.

  I did reach up and touch Jessica’s cheek, briefly. Then I turned and walked back to my truck knowing that I’d do whatever it took to keep her safe.

  19

  Jessica

  I stood there watching Liam’s broad shoulders as he left. He was so beautiful. His concern was touching, and I could feel my resolve to keep my distance from him slipping each time I saw him. It was embarrassing not knowing what I said or did around a room full of people, but mostly because he was there. Daisy assured me that I didn’t do anything too awful.

  When Daisy and I returned from the murder scene, I noticed Brenda glaring in my direction. “Who rained on her parade?” I asked Daisy.

  “Word has it that she threw a fit when Mr. Boss wouldn’t let her take your story over,” Daisy said smirking.

  “Is that right?” I said, smiling warmly at Brenda until she huffed and ducked behind her cubical.

  I was pretty sick about the death of Henry Yazzie. Partly because I’d been itching for a big story in this sleepy college town. But, I never wanted success at the price of three lives.

  “Daisy, I’m stepping out to run an errand, but I’ll be back before five. So, don’t leave me stranded. The boss said I could use one of the company cars.” I grabbed my jacket and started to leave.

  “Where are you going?” Daisy asked, looking suspicious.

  “I’m just running down a lead on a story. No big deal. I’ll see you later,” I said, hurrying down the hall before my self-prescribed babysitter decided to tag along. I loved Daisy, but I was used to doing things on my own. I was confident that I could go talk to Zoey in broad daylight without being attacked by a dead guy. If that indeed was what he was. Like the movies, he only showed up after the sunset.

  I drove the company car, a black Honda Accord, to the bakery on Aspen Avenue and parked along the street. I’d pulled some strings and learned that Zoey lived in an apartment above the bakery which was only a couple blocks from the bar she worked at.

  Looking up at the windows above the two-story bakery, I could see soft lacy curtains with dried flowers hanging from the same rod. The smell of baked goods permeated the air, and my stomach reminded me that I hadn’t eaten lunch yet. I made a mental note to stop in at the bakery when I finished speaking to Zoey.