Principles of Spookology (The Spectral Files Book 2)

by S. E. Harmon

  “You’re a genius.”

  He smiled smugly. “Hard to disagree with that. So I won’t.”

  When I entered the room, Carter sent me a slight smile. He was an undeniably handsome man, with thick dark hair shot through with threads of silver and warm brown eyes. His skin was a tad weathered, with deep wrinkles around his eyes that spoke of a lot of time outside.

  “Detective Christiansen.” I shook his hand briskly. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Carter James. But I guess you already knew that.” He rubbed his hands together, a tad nervously. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

  “I have some questions for you. Questions about a man named Mason Paige.”

  “As I told the other detective who brought me in, we went on a few dates. Nothing serious.”

  “Nothing serious?” I raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I’m mistaken.”

  “I think you are,” he said, “and I didn’t appreciate you harassing my wife. She certainly gave me an earful.”

  “I hardly think the term harassing is accurate.”

  “Well, I had to explain why the police department would need to speak to me urgently. It wasn’t easy to come up with something, and I don’t like lying to my wife. Anymore,” he added quickly after a look at my expression.

  Have it your way. I flipped open the folder of emails and pulled one out at random. “I have to see you again. The sooner the better. It’s hard to think about anything other than what we did last weekend.” I glanced up at Carter’s suddenly pale face before I continued reading. “You’re the most amazing guy I’ve ever met.”

  “Where did you get those?”

  “We’re the police, Carter.” I smiled. “We can get our mitts on all kinds of things.”

  “I don’t think this is necessary.”

  “Oh, I think this is very necessary.” I went on with the steamy email. “The love we make is like fire in my blood. Fire in my soul. My heart. My loins—”

  “Detective.”

  “I really hate the word loins. I don’t know why.” I glanced up at his reddening face. “You want to hear more?”

  “No,” he said sharply.

  “Me too.” My hearing could be so selective when I chose. I pulled out another email at random. “I know you’re upset, and you have every reason to be. But I swear to you, Mason, I’m done with lying to you. Stacy and I live completely separate lives. I know I should’ve been honest, but I just wanted you so much. I didn’t think you’d understand.”

  I scanned another email silently and spotted that accursed word again. “Good God, what is with you and the word loins?”

  “Did you bring me down here to embarrass me to death?” he demanded.

  “No, that was just for me. I brought you down here so we could talk about Mason.” I closed the folder. “But if I need to humiliate you to get you to be more forthcoming, I will.”

  “I told you it was just a casual—” When I reached for the folder again, he practically shouted, “All right. What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know everything about your relationship with Mason Paige. I want you to be completely truthful.” I sent him a hard look. “And I’m just warning you, if I’m not happy with what I hear, your next stop is booking.”

  “I assume everything said stays within this room.”

  “I can’t promise you that.”

  “You’re clearly determined to ruin me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, visibly bracing himself, and then he let out a long sigh. “What else is there to say that you don’t already know? I was in love with him.”

  “Just not enough to leave your wife.”

  “In my circle, that’s not… the thing to do.”

  “Your family wouldn’t have been pleased.”

  “My family knows about my... preferences. My mother advised me to have my little dalliances but keep them quiet. She reminded me that my marriage to Stacy opened a lot of doors for my father’s business, and I shouldn’t jeopardize that.” He swallowed. “I agreed. It seemed so important at the time.”

  “And now?”

  “And now I wish he’d walk through that door.” He glanced up at me. “Have you located him?”

  “Yes.”

  He stared at me for a few moments. “And he’s….”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” All his breath rushed out at once. He blinked rapidly. “I thought that might be the case.”

  His shoulders stopped as he stared blankly at the table. In the face of his devastation, it was hard to imagine him strangling Mason and Hunter to death. I wasn’t sure if that helped or hindered my investigation.

  I sent him a dark look. “You might’ve told us this before.”

  “I wasn’t exactly eager to expose this part of my life.”

  “What did you talk about the last time you saw Mason?”

  “I showed up at the bakery with some flowers and a teddy bear.” He cleared his throat. “He wasn’t interested and sent me right back outside. I know he dumped the trash at a certain time, so I waited around back.”

  I see someone boned up on his Stalkers 101 manual. “And did you speak to him again?”

  “No, he came out with Luke. They were arguing heatedly. I ducked behind the bins so I could listen.” He flushed at my raised eyebrow. “You told me to be honest.”

  True enough. It was just a little hard picturing the well-dressed, refined doctor hiding behind a couple of trash cans like a wary raccoon. “What were they arguing about?” I asked.

  “I couldn’t really hear everything, but Mason was accusing Luke of stealing something. Luke denied it, but Mason didn’t believe him. He told Luke that he needed to move out. That Mason couldn’t trust him anymore.”

  “How did Luke take it? Was he angry?”

  “No. He looked sad… almost resigned.” He frowned. “Mason went inside but Luke stayed and smoked a cigarette. It was another ten minutes before he went inside as well, and I could finally leave.”

  “Do you know what Luke supposedly stole?”

  “No. Maybe Casey would know.” He grimaced. “He and Mason were thick as thieves.”

  “You don’t sound like much of a Casey fan.”

  “I wasn’t. And let’s just say the feeling was mutual.”

  “Let’s just say more,” I suggested. “I have a feeling why he didn’t like you, but why were you a card-carrying member of the I Hate Casey fan club?”

  “Because he wanted Mason to be his.” His mouth pulled into a frown. “I thought it was distasteful for Mason to lead him on in such a way, all things considered.”

  “What things?”

  “Well. You’ve met the man.” As I continued to look at him blankly, Carter made a sound of impatience. He waved at his face. “He doesn’t exactly have a lot of options.”

  God, Luke was right. Mason had horrible taste in men. I guess to someone whose life’s work was plastics, Casey’s scars might seem like a fate worse than death. I eyed Carter coolly, long enough to make him drop his gaze and a blush spread across his neck.

  “Anything else?” I finally asked.

  “No.” He sighed. “Look, I came down here of my own free will, but I’ve had a long flight. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

  He wasn’t a suspect and he wasn’t under arrest. I had no reason or authority to keep him, and I knew where to find him if I had more questions. Besides, I wasn’t worried about him taking off. I had a feeling Carter James was very attached to his comfortable lifestyle, so attached he let the love of his life walk away. It was kind of pitiful, really.

  “Wait here,” I said, pushing back from the table. “I’ll send Macy in to show you out.”

  He didn’t look all that pleased with waiting around even longer for our secretary to be his tour guide, but he folded his arms without comment. Policy was policy—we didn’t have any civilians roaming around our office unattended. Ghosts, yes, but civilians, no.

  I was half out of the d
oor when he called my name.

  “Detective Christiansen.”

  “Yes?”

  “I loved Mason. I know I didn’t treat him as he deserved, but I really did.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly.

  “I really hope you find out what happened to him. But if you’re investigating me, you’re a long way off from where you need to be.”

  My mouth tightened and I answered coolly. “For your sake, I certainly hope so.”

  Danny was still in interview room two, and I went over to the window. I texted him quickly, informing him of the argument Carter witnessed between the brothers. He glanced at his phone for a few moments before pocketing it casually. Whatever he said next made Sue’s face flush angrily.

  I flipped the sound switch on the wall.

  “…how would I know something like that?” Sue demanded. “Luke’s past is his past.”

  “Right now, I’m trying to determine if that past had something to do with his brother’s death,” Danny said patiently. “I’d think you would be eager to assist me with that.”

  “Why would I assist you when you’re trying to persecute the one son I have left?”

  “I’m not trying to persecute anyone,” he said exasperatedly. “I’m just asking simple questions.”

  “Asking if I know what Luke stole from Mason is not just a simple question.” She sat back with an audible harrumph. “You people think I’m just a stupid old woman, don’t you?”

  “No ma’am, I don’t,” he said, “but I do think that someone with nothing to hide would answer the question. Willingly.”

  She chewed on that for a few moments. “And you’re not just trying to pin this on Luke?”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t get a bonus for putting murderers away. I want the right man arrested for the crime.”

  She looked at him suspiciously some more, clearly weighing her options. Her shoulders slumped. “I suppose it’s no secret by now that my boys argued a lot. Luke just had a hard time finding his way.”

  “So what did Mason think Luke stole?”

  “Some very valuable coins. My Howard was obsessed with those coins. He left Mason his entire collection. Luke was very hurt. Thing was, my husband knew Luke would just sell them the first chance he got.” She sighed. “It wasn’t his fault, you know. He had a problem.”

  “Do you think Luke really stole the coins?”

  “I don’t know.” She busied herself collecting the photos she’d spread out on the table. “I know he needed the money. But he knew how important that collection was to Mason. I can’t believe he’d do a thing like that.”

  “How much were these coins worth?”

  “Twenty to twenty-five thousand, give or take.”

  Just about what Luke owed his bookie. From Danny’s expression, it was clear that he had drawn the same conclusions I did. “Hmm,” was all he said.

  Sue hurried to correct his impressions. “Even if Luke did take the coins—and I’m not saying he did—it doesn’t mean he would kill his own brother.”

  People had done more for less.

  I flicked off the sound switch as Danny began wrapping up the interview. That coin collection was more than just something to pawn, it was something Mason’s father had wanted him to have. Luke’s theft would’ve been a huge betrayal, and maybe Luke couldn’t bear watching his lifelong fixer walk away.

  I glanced over as Danny came out into the hallway. He pulled the door softly shut behind him. He stood close enough that our shoulders brushed and then scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

  I nudged his shoulder with mine and held out my half empty cup. “Coffee?”

  “Why? Have you decided to just start mainlining it into your veins?”

  “I offer you sustenance and you call me a crackhead?”

  I started to pull the cup back and he grabbed it before I could. Those blue eyes sparkled. “I think we’re just having a misunderstanding.”

  “Sure we are.”

  I briefed him on Carter’s interview as he polished off the coffee. He listened quietly as he crumpled the cup. He aimed for the nearest trash can and missed what would normally be an easy bank shot.

  I snorted. “You’d never guess you went to college on a basketball scholarship.”

  “Shut it,” he said without heat. He bent to pick up the crumped cup and tossed it in the basket. “I’m too tired to even see straight.”

  I bit my lip guiltily. “Sorry about that.”

  “For what?”

  “It is my fault you don’t get much sleep.”

  “If I thought it was your fault, I would’ve said so.” He paused. “That reminds me….”

  I narrowed my eyes. “No.”

  “Rain.”

  “Not another guru.”

  “Spiritual adviser,” he corrected. He pulled out his wallet and searched for a few seconds through the billfold. He came out with a card that he presented to me. “I made an appointment for you. They call him Master Spencer.”

  I took the card with two fingers. “Travis? His name is Travis?”

  “You weren’t all that jazzed about taking instruction from someone named Tree either.”

  He made a good point. “I guess it can’t hurt,” I murmured. “Clearly you think I’m broken and need fixing.”

  He frowned. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  At my doubtful look, he made an irritated noise in the back of his throat. He walked toward me, getting all up in my space, and my mouth dried up. “We’ll find that balance, Rain. That’s all to it.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I heard you.”

  He stared at me hard for a few seconds until he was satisfied that I got it. Then he leaned in like he was going to kiss me. My heart galloped eagerly as I leaned in as well, only to meet… air. I opened eyes I didn’t even know were closed and sent him a glare. “You want to complete that transaction?”

  He smiled. “You make it all too easy to forget where we are, especially now that you’re mine and I get to touch you if I want. And I do want.”

  “I have wants, too, you know.” I sighed as he chuckled. “What’s the point of dating my boss if I can’t get any action at work?”

  “Stop tempting me to be unprofessional.” A smile spread over that sexy mouth. “You’re a menace to my self-control.”

  He rubbed his thumb across the pulse point in my wrist, and we shared another few seconds of just being in each other's presence before he dropped my hand with a rueful smile. “We should get back to work. I want to talk to this Watts guy.”

  “Need an assist?”

  “I’m good. I’ll probably see if Kevin wants to tag along.” He gave me a pointed look. “You should go see Master Spencer.”

  Chasing down a criminal had never seemed so appealing. I gritted my teeth. “No sense in putting it off, I suppose.”

  “That’s the spirit.” He frowned. “And no more coffee today. Your pulse is racing.”

  “I make no promises.”

  I watched him walk away, equal parts amused and irritated. I didn’t bother to inform him that he was the cause of my racing pulse, not coffee. It was a little embarrassing that even after all this time, just his thumb on my wrist was enough to make me nervous and stupid and my palms a little sweaty… not just in a sexual way, but an I Can’t Believe He’s Mine kind of way. Every time.

  We could have worse problems.

  Chapter 17

  Watts was in the wind.

  His parole officer was particularly shamefaced when he realized the address on file was fake—unless Watts actually lived in the middle of an amusement park. We put a unit on his mother’s bungalow, just in case he decided to return. So far, there was no activity. Well, nothing other than his mother coming out on the porch at random intervals in a ratty robe to smoke a cigarette. She always made sure to flip her middle finger in the Crown Vic’s direction before she sauntered back inside.

  There
was nothing left to do but pursue other leads. I wasn’t all that concerned. People like Watts made a habit of going underground, but they always resurfaced for air eventually.

  Danny and I half-heartedly debated cooking that night, long enough for him to painstakingly prep an onion in ragged, uneven pieces. Then I realized I forgot to get the ground chuck out of the freezer that morning. After a moment of staring at the microwave longingly, we scrapped the whole idea. My limited kitchen skills certainly included defrosting, but I had neither the will nor the patience.

  I changed into sweatpants and a graphic T-shirt and, comfortable from my head to my sock-clad toes, I dropped on the couch with a satisfied sigh. Cheesecake Factory had popped up a new location a scant fifteen minutes from Danny’s house and I was just spiritual enough to take that as a sign. The only thing I was confused about now was what and how much I wanted to eat.

  I scrolled through the food app, salivating over photos while Danny worked on the squad’s schedule for the next week. I hemmed and hawed, enlarging photo after photo until Danny got exasperated and threatened to open a can of ravioli and eat it cold. Cold.

  I shivered involuntarily. Sometimes he was an absolute animal.

  I informed him that lips that touch Chef Boyardee’s canned creations don’t touch mine, but I was scared enough to hurriedly pick out a couple of entrees. We couldn’t compromise over a cheesecake flavor, so we got three to freestyle from. When I paid online, I made sure to input his car make and model under pick up details.

  Danny laughed as he leaned over and kissed me. “Subtlety was never your strong suit. I guess I’m going to pick it up.”

  “That is what a good boyfriend would do, isn’t it?”

  “And how would you know what a good boyfriend would do?”

  I dug my thumbs in his ribs in retribution, and he yelped. He twisted and turned under my assault, swearing revenge. My satisfaction was short lived. A few seconds later, he went on the offensive and pushed me flat on the couch. He straddled me, effectively pinning my arms at my side. I looked up at him with a sense of foreboding as he wriggled his fingers. I only got out, “Let’s call a truce,” before he attacked, and it was my turn to twist helplessly.