by Tegan Maher
She pulled off the sunglasses, and pink tears glistened in her eyes. The wig she'd chosen was platinum blonde just as Ms. Ellen had said, and was board-straight with blocky bangs chopped straight across her forehead.
Rather than punch her or hug her, I resorted to my go-to defense: snark.
"That wig looks stupid."
She smiled and gave a half-sob/half-laugh. "I know. That's why I wore it. The old Rhea would have never been caught dead in it, so I figured it would help throw people off. They'll pay more attention to the wig than my features. I bought a dozen of them before I came. Dominique wears them all the time, so I figured they'd be another layer of disguise."
"Is that why you wore the hooker-red lipstick too?" I said with a small smile. Already, we were falling back into the easy relationship we'd always had. It made me mad, but it also made be stupidly happy.
"Nah. I wore it because now that I don't have splotchy skin, I can. Are you finished working?" she asked.
"I am. I was just leaving to meet Alex and Sully's."
Her face fell, and I made a snap decision. "Why don't we go to the Hook instead?"
The Rusty Hook was the dive bar where Kat worked, and a vampire named Rocks owned it. Humans weren't prone to go there, at least not any of the ones who would recognize her.
"Ooh, I've heard he has killer bloody marys."
I smiled. Rocks made vampire-friendly bloody marys made out of faux blood, kept behind the counter and served only upon request, of course. "He does. And my friend and roommate Kat is bartending."
I fired off a quick text to Alex that we'd had a change of plans. I wasn't sure about what I was doing, but I was sure that I'd wished a million times that I could hug her and laugh with her just one more time. I wasn't going to blow it, now that I had that chance.
"We can take my car," she said. "I want to tell you all about what I've been doing for the past five years. Can you believe Sean wants to rebrand the town as a paranormal destination?"
Just hearing her mention the paranormal was surreal to me. I'd spent my entire life hiding who I was from her, and it felt good for that secret to be gone. I grabbed my backpack and she curled her nose. "Are you still fighting carrying a real purse?"
"Yup," I said. "I don't want to have to dig for things, and I can't put everything I might need into a purse. Plus, I want to have my hands free if I need them."
She gave a little nod as we walked through the hallway toward the front door. "That makes a lot more sense now that I know what's up than it did back when I was human." She frowned a little when she said that, but only for a second.
I called a goodbye to Ms. Ellen on my way out, and her eyes narrowed as she studied Rhea, who kept her face averted. She was a tough old bird, and not much got past her. She'd figure it out sooner rather than later, but we were probably safe for now.
I climbed into the passenger seat of her car and dropped my backpack between my knees as she fired it up. When she gassed it to move forward, raw power practically oozed from the engine. We chatted for the few minutes it took us to get to the Hook, and I smiled when I saw Alex leaning against his truck waiting for us.
"He's hot," she whispered, giving me wide-eyed, approving glance.
"I know. And he's sweet, and loyal, and smart, too." Just looking at that grin made my heart melt a little.
He came around to my side as soon as we came to a stop and opened the door for me. I pulled my backpack out of the floorboard, and when I went to sling it over my shoulder, I realized it had snagged on another of her ridiculous wigs—this one dark. Something pinged against the asphalt parking lot. I turned to see what I'd dropped, and there, shining against the black pavement, was a gleaming gold nametag with Daisy inscribed on it in black letters.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
RHEA WAS SMILING AND chattering about the bloody marys, unaware of what I'd found. Once she realized we'd fallen silent, she stopped.
"What?" she asked, her gaze bouncing back and forth between us. "What's going on? Why are you ..." she glanced toward the ground and saw the nametag, and the smile slid from her face. Her gaze flew to mine and she held out her hands. "Cori, I swear to God—"
I gave her the palm. "Just don't, Rhea. Don't say anything."
This was a crappy situation on a number of levels. First, I was going to lose her all over again. Second, she'd lied to me, and I'd actually fallen for it. And finally, I wasn't going to be able to give justice to Daisy's mom. Rhea was a vampire and would be dealt with by their council. Nobody in the human world would even have a clue.
I speed-dialed Sean and prayed he got there as quickly as he always did. His vampire speed had come in handy more than once. I tried to be quiet, but I couldn't.
"Why, Rhea? Surely you didn't still hold a grudge against her for firing you."
"No! Cori, I swear to you, I didn't hurt her."
Alex pinned her with his gaze. "But you were there that morning, and you lied about it."
She pulled in a breath and blew it out through her cheeks. "Fine. I was there. She'd spotted me at the grocery store and recognized me even through the disguise. I went to try to convince her not to out me. She said she'd think about it, and I left. I wasn't there more than five minutes, and yes, I was mad that she hadn't flat-out agreed to stay quiet. But she was alive when I left."
My phone rang, and I was shocked to see that it was Sean. I'd expected him to be there by now.
"Come to the estate immediately," he said, his voice clipped. "And bring Rhea with you."
He was rarely abrupt with me, but he hung up before I could even say okay. I looked at Rhea and Alex, who had both heard the command.
"Let's go," I said, motioning toward the truck.
"At least let me put the top up," she said. "It's Sean's, and I'd hate to repay his kindness by leaving it ripe for the picking."
I gave a sharp nod but stayed close to her as she put the top up and locked it.
A heavy silence filled the truck as we drove to Sean's. Jeeves was waiting for us when we arrived; the door swung open before I even had a chance to knock. "Master is in the study." It still seemed weird to hear him say that, but it was the furthest thing from my mind at that point.
Sean was, indeed, waiting for us in the study—along with a crying Dominique.
"Rhea, I'm so sorry!" she said, but Sean whipped up his hand and silenced her.
"Cordelia, Alex I'm afraid I've solved your murder case, though most certainly not in a manner I would have chosen." He turned and pinned Dominique with a stare.
Shock and despair slipped over Rhea's face. "Dominique! Why?"
The woman was so distraught that her words were tumbling out of her mouth in a sobbing mixture of French and English, and none of it was decipherable. Her hair was a mess and her mascara was running down her cheeks.
"I didn't mean to. I just wanted to make sure your secret was safe. That all of our secrets stayed safe!"
Rhea plopped down onto the sofa, dazed. "What did you do?"
"I followed you and heard you talking to her. I heard her tell you she wasn't willing to give you her word and that she'd have to think about it. I waited for you to leave, then went inside and tried to talk to her myself. When I took her by the arm, she became angry, and tried shove me away. She started to scream, so I put my hand over her mouth. She tried to head-butt me, and when I pushed her backward to avoid it, I pushed too hard. I tried to catch her, but I couldn't. That must have been when her name tag caught on my clothing."
She was sobbing so hard we could barely understand her. "I swear, it was an accident. I was just trying to protect you."
Rhea shook her head. "Then what—you came to the store and waited for me? When I came outside, you were just in the car. You said you'd been shopping."
"I saw your car in the parking lot and knew you'd gone in to check on your brother. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
The pieces all clicked into place. The dark hair, the bruise on Daisy's chest. "Wer
e you wearing the wig that day?"
She nodded, her expression miserable.
I turned to Sean. "What happens now? And what are we going to tell Daisy's poor mother?"
His gaze was hard. "Dominique will go before the council. They're not as hard on vampire-human killings as they are if the victim is another supernatural. There's a chance they'll be lenient if they believe she had no intention of killing the woman.”
"Okay," Alex said. "But again, what about Daisy's mother? She deserves closure."
Sean raked his fingers through his hair. "I'll talk to her. I'll make sure she has it."
Rhea had gone to her friend and was hugging her, so I motioned to Alex and we made a quiet exit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THREE DAYS HAD PASSED since Dominique's big reveal, and things were settling back to normal. Rhea had gone back to Italy, where Dominique would stand trial. Sean had made good on his word and had planted a memory in Daisy's mind that wrapped everything up into a neat little bow.
As for the rest of the town, I'd made an "arrest" that matched the description of the drifter Sean had created to be the fall guy for Mrs. Westfield, then given him a ride back to Sean's that night after everybody else in town was sleeping. If luck held, nobody else would follow up on the "trial" that was to take place in Atlanta because of "jurisdictional issues."
That was a lot of quotes, but it kept our secret and it gave Mrs. Westfield some peace. It also satisfied my sense of justice, because I knew Dominique was going to pay for it. I had mixed feelings about that, though. I honestly didn't believe she'd gone there with the intent to hurt Daisy, but she had. Sean swore that she wasn't malicious and that she never would have done such a thing on purpose, and he was a hardliner when it came to justice. He wouldn't say that if he didn't believe it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
I didn't think an accident, no matter how horrible, warranted a death sentence, and hoped that the council took that into consideration. Sean had considerable sway, so I trusted things would work out for the best.
Alex was taking me to dinner, and he'd told me to dress up. I wasn't sure why, but he'd chosen the fanciest place in town to take me. I slicked on some lipstick and smiled at myself in the mirror. It seemed strange to see myself all dolled up, but it felt kinda good too. As long as it only happened every once in a while.
The doorbell rang, then the door clicked open; I'd told Alex a hundred times he didn't have to knock, but he still did anyway, right before he came on in. He said it was only polite to give us a heads up in case we were indecent.
I slipped into a pair of heels and made my way down the stairs, careful not to trip and break my neck on the way down.
Alex's gaze slid over me and he gave an appreciative whistle. "You look amazing!"
Smiling, I replied, "You don't look so bad yourself. Hot date?"
He grinned and pulled me into his arms, then gave me an Eskimo kiss—a wolfy sign of affection. "The hottest. It's this smokin' werewolf chick. Oh, and she's a witch to boot. Totally badass."
"Sounds like you'll have your hands full."
He dipped his head to give me a breath-stealing kiss, then waggled his brows. "I sure hope so!"
I swatted him on the arm. "C'mon loverboy. I'm starving and Encino's has the best steak in Georgia. Feed me first. Then we'll discuss the terms of the rest of the evening."
The restaurant was packed when we got there, but the waiter, a good friend of mine, ushered us through the crowd and up to the rooftop, where a little table was set for two, complete with candles. Soft music drifted from two speakers, mostly drowning out the chatter of guests from downstairs.
I gave him a sideways glance. "What are you doing?" I was almost afraid to hear the answer, because though I knew I loved him, I wasn't sure I was ready to get married yet. Wolves mated for life, and we were still learning about each other.
"I'm pampering the woman I love with excellent food and—hopefully—good company. We hardly ever get any time alone, and I plan to remedy that. You deserve a night of spoiling, and it's my pleasure to give it to you."
"That's it?"
One corner of his mouth tilted up in a half-grin. "That's it."
He pulled out my chair for me, and from there on out, the night was pure heaven. Just as he'd promised, we had a relaxing, intimate evening, and by the time dessert arrived, I was stuffed. The strawberry shortcake looked too good for me to waste, though, so I picked up my fork.
Before I could, Alex reached across the table and laid his hand on mine. "Hold up a second. I have something for you." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little black-velvet box and popped the lid open.
Panic almost closed my throat, and for the first time in my life, I started to hyperventilate. I didn't want to say no, but I didn't want to say yes yet, either. And I was pretty sure maybe wasn't an option in this scenario.
He laughed and squeezed my hand. "Breathe, Cori! It's not what you think."
"It's not?" I managed to squeak past the lump in my throat.
He shook his head. "It's not."
I pulled in a couple deep breaths and released them slowly.
Arching a brow, he asked, "Are you okay now?"
I nodded. "Golden."
He laughed, his dimples deepening, and the candlelight flickered in his emerald eyes. I looked down into the box he was holding open across the table. Nestled inside was a beautiful ring with two platinum-and-diamond hearts intertwined.
I met his gaze, and held my breath as he spoke.
"It's been a rough year for us. I know it's hard to make enough time to spend evenings like this together, or to even carve out an afternoon to just enjoy each other’s company. But we've gotten to know each other, and what I do know about you, I love. So, I got you this ring. My heart and your heart. A promise to make time for each other, and to get to know each other inside and out. And to give this relationship the dedication it deserves. Deal?"
I grinned at him, my heart full. We were so in tune that I had no doubt we'd eventually be adding another set of rings to this one, but not until we were ready.
"Deal," I said, leaning across the table to give him a long, steamy kiss.
"Excellent," he said when we finally pulled apart. "Now ... it's time for dessert."
Like I said, he knew me well. Right at that moment, the stars aligned. It was one of those rare, perfect moments when everything is exactly as it should be and you wouldn't change a single thing. In a word, it was magical.
THE END
<<<<>>>>
Thank You!
Thank you for joining me for the fourth story set in Castle’s Bluff, a small Southern Georgia town where the residents are diverse and nobody’s exactly how they seem. I hope you enjoyed reading Better Off Dead as much as I enjoyed writing it.
If this is the first of my books you’ve read, I invite you to visit Noelle, Hunter, and crew in Keyhole Lake. I recommend starting with Sweet Murder, the first book in the Witches of Keyhole Lake Series, available on Amazon for 99 cents, or free in Kindle Unlimited. Keep reading for a sneak peek!
CHAPTER ONE
Sweet Murder, Witches of Keyhole Lake 1
USING THE HEM OF MY apron, I pulled the last batch of blueberry turnovers out of the oven and slid them onto the counter to cool. They were an even, golden brown, and a quick poke with a fork assured me the crust was light and flaky. Perfect. The customers at Brew4U, my best friend and cousin Raeann's coffee shop, were going to eat them up. That was good, because right now every few bucks mattered.
Speaking of money, I glanced at the clock on the microwave and that cold, I’m-gonna-be-late feeling swept over me. As it always did, time had gotten away from me while I was baking and I had less than fifteen minutes to get to work. Panicked, I turned the oven off with a wave of my hand, then bolted into the laundry room and pulled my server's apron and work shirt out of the dryer. I changed into the tank top on my way through the living room, grabbed my purse, and made my way out
the front door, nearly face planting when I tripped over our miniature donkey Max, who was napping at the bottom of the steps.
"Watch it, you big clod! Mayhap I shall kick you in the head the next time you’re napping," he grumped, then yawned wide, taking most of the intimidation factor out of the threat.
"If I were sleeping at the bottom of the steps, I'd expect to get kicked in the head," I said over my shoulder as I recovered and made my way toward Bessie, my faded blue, shabby-chic 1984 F150. Yes, shabby-chic is code for "POS." Don't judge me—it's paid for. And yes, the donkey talks, but we'll get to that a little later. Trust me - after you meet him, you'll be glad for the delay.
I slid into the truck, yelping and lifting my hips when the sensitive skin of the back of my legs hit the searing cracked leather seat. I pushed my apron under my legs and settled back gingerly, then, with an encouraging pat to the dashboard, I cranked the key. She coughed and wheezed a little, but surprised me yet again when she caught and roared to life. Yes! Another check in the win column for the day. I backed out of the yard and headed down the driveway to the main road, admiring the late-morning view as I did.
Even with my window down, the temperature inside the truck was just this side of hellfire, so I reached across the seat and cranked the passenger window down, too. Mid-summer in southern Georgia was brutal, and the AC had gone out on the truck a few months back. Unfortunately, fixing it didn't even make the top twenty on the laundry list of priorities that demanded a chunk of my check.
