Dead and Disorderly (Behind the Blue Line Series Book 2)

by Craig, Alexis D.

  The corner of his mouth kicked up involuntarily. She didn’t ask questions of him, but he always felt like spilling his guts to her anyway. “It was the concussion. She threw a clot, had a stroke.”

  “I’m sorry.” It was a platitude that he knew she meant from her heart.

  “Nonna and my mom are beside themselves. They’re flying in tomorrow.” His mind started swimming with the thoughts of picking them up and accommodations. They’d only seen his new place and city in pictures. He normally went home to see them a few times a year. The farther his mind travelled down that road, the more anxious he became. “You have anything besides that scary shit you’re drinking?”

  She nodded and hoisted herself off the couch gracefully, taking her glass with her. Pausing in front of him, she trailed her fingers across his cheek, asking, “Stronger or not as?”

  He caught her hand and kissed her palm, so unbelievably grateful for her kindness and empathy. “Regular whiskey if you’ve got it. That diesel fuel you’re drinking damn near blinded me.”

  Nahia snorted and waved off his whining, putting a little extra swish in her step to show how much she didn’t care about his disapproval of her liquor choices. “I can handle that.” She came back a moment later with a shot glass filled with a liquid so red it was almost black. “Here.”

  Nico took the offered glass and threw it back in one swallow, feeling his throat and taste buds mutiny immediately for the second time that evening. “Holy Christ, that was awful!” he croaked. “What the hell was it?”

  She smirked and took the glass back to the kitchen, running some water in it before setting it next to the sink on a rack to dry. “Lacryma Christi. I thought it was appropriate.”

  The tears of Christ, given his mood, she couldn’t have been more right. “You are an intriguing woman, Nahia Nizhoni.” Intriguing, kind, humble, loveable, unimpeachably old school, and so many other things that drew him to her. Just being in her presence was a comfort to him at this point.

  “I’m glad you think so.” She killed the light in the kitchen, leaving them bathed in the bluish glow of the television and the far off golden shimmer of the streetlights below. When she got to the couch next to him, she held out her hand. “Come on.”

  He allowed her to pull him to his feet and then waited while she shut off the TV. When she returned to his side, she linked her fingers with his and led him to the bedroom, but he pulled up short after a couple steps. “I didn’t come for this.” He appreciated the sentiment, and the gesture, but that wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he’d showed up on her doorstep.

  The flash of teeth in her gentle smile caught his eye. “I know.” Nahia pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of him and untying his shoes. She dispensed with them and his socks before reaching for his belt buckle.

  He stayed her hand by lightly grasping her wrist. “You don’t have to do this.” When she only blinked in response, he released her hand and she resumed her work, opening his belt and pants, and starting on the buttons of his shirt. “I didn’t bring anything to sleep in.”

  Her lips twitched and eyes shone in amusement, but she was undeterred. “We’ll deal with that tomorrow.” She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, leaving it pooled around his wrists and him clad only in his tank top and open pants.

  Nahia got to her feet and dragged him with her, his pants skinning down his legs in record time. She collected them, and his shirt, and folded them before setting them on the chaise lounge across the room.

  “I need to call and see what the arrangements are for Mrs. I.” He wasn’t looking for reasons to leave, but it felt strange to have her silently tending to him in an almost reverent, loving manner.

  She made quick work of her jeans and tank top before folding back the covers of the bed. The sight of her in only tiny emerald lacy panties while bent over the bed was quite the distraction, though probably unintentional on her part. “Also will be dealt with tomorrow.” Patting the spot on the bed beside her, she beckoned him to her side.

  Nico thought about denying her, even though he was mostly naked, as was she, but the emotional depletion of the day weighed heavily on him, and in the end it was easier to get some sleep and, as she put it, deal with everything else tomorrow.

  As soon as he slid into the bed, she adjusted the covers and turned on her side away from him, reaching back to pull him close around her. Nahia laced her fingers with his over her belly and snuggled back into him with her back against his chest and her legs fitted around his. Her hair smelled of chocolate and coconut as he nestled his face in it before brushing it aside to kiss the side of her neck. “Thank you,” he whispered into the darkness.

  She turned her head back to meet his lips once before getting comfortable again. “Don’t mention it.”

  Nico was up and gone early in the morning, well before her 9:00 a.m. alarm, but Nahia wasn’t surprised. He’d been out of sorts when he’d arrived, and any hurt she’d felt had dissipated as soon as she’d taken in his harried appearance. She’d given in to her need to support and comfort him, because he looked so ready to break. He hadn’t even looked that way on the ghost hunt, and that was after the whole flying furniture thing.

  Her morning was slow. She showered leisurely, drank her coffee without haste, and made it to work on time. It was almost like her life was normal again, only it wasn’t. There was still the matter of the house, the safety on the workers who would be doing the remodel, Nico’s somewhat-grandmother’s death, and the impending arrival of the greater Verrazzano clan. 11:00 a.m. was too early to start drinking, right?

  “You look like you could use this more than me.”

  Nahia blinked as Mags handed off her delicate cup of tea, her mind hearing her words to Nico from last night clearly. She’d made it into the middle of the store before the thoughts racing around her brain had impeded her physical progress. Leaving her standing there, arms still laden with her bags, and nothing to show for it. She shook her head to reorder her brain. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. Thank you.” She sipped the tea and continued on to put her stuff away behind the counter.

  Mags raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter. “Rough night?”

  “Not for the reason you’d suspect.” She set the pink china cup on its matching saucer in front of her redheaded friend. It was still half full. Blindly, she reached up onto the shelf and pulled down her box of tarot cards and began shuffling.

  “You and Nico have a fight?” Even as she asked the question, she looked like she didn’t believe that could possibly be the answer.

  She shook her head. “No, his…” she groped for the word, “semi-grandmother passed away last night.” Even as she said it, she kept her hands moving, like that would soothe her brain. When the moment felt right, she set the deck down and cut it.

  Mags straightened away from the counter and sobered immediately. “Damn, I’m sorry to hear that.” She cocked her head to the side, a strange, but serene smile coming to her face.

  Nahia knew that look well. “Whatcha seein’?”

  The redhead in the billowy white shirt that hung off her shoulder snorted before she managed to contain the laughter. Her eyes cleared and she sipped her tea primly as her gaze settled back on her friend. “You’ll see soon enough.”

  “You know I hate it when you do that, right?” She smiled in spite of her irritation and began her three card spread. Guidance right now would be greatly appreciated, because with all the different branches of the mayhem tree breaking off in her life, finding the trunk would be optimal.

  First card was the Death card, upright. Neither terribly auspicious nor unexpected, given the reason for her spread. It represented transitions, transformations, endings and beginnings. Most likely referring to Mrs. Iannuci’s passage from this world to the next, as well as the advance and transformation of her relationship to Nico, it wasn’t the horrible card it was billed to be.

  Mags continued her reading, paying no attention t
o her as she turned the next card over, the six of cups. Reunions, family memories, togetherness, probably referring to her getting to meet Nico’s family, it was a prospect that scared the bejesus right out of her. Having never gotten to that point in a relationship before, she had no idea what was expected of her or how it would work out. As such, she felt out of control and helpless, two feelings that made her nuts.

  She turned the last card and snorted out a sarcastic laugh. The Queen of Swords, Nico’s mother, clearly. Only it was upside down, which meant an overly emotional woman, bitchy and mean. Not what she’d wanted to see at all, and yet all she’d feared. Maybe this time, the cards would be wrong. They were cards, pieces of paper with pictures printed on them, and not anything more.

  That thinking, however, did not prevent her from doing something odd, something from which she normally would have refrained. She turned over one last card, one more shot in the dark, playing Blackjack with the universe one last time. Nine of wands, upright. She blew out a deep sigh, feeling the stress lift from her, if only for a moment. It was the card of perseverance, courage, a test of faith, and ultimately resilience.

  Mags’ hum of amusement brought Nahia’s eyes to hers, seeing her smirking into her tea cup. “Quite the rollercoaster. Thought you were going to set them on fire for a moment there.”

  She chuckled and put the cards away, wrapping them in their velvet and replacing them in the box. “Thought about it, but I don’t think insurance covers karmic interventions.” The two women laughed out loud until the bell over the front door jingled a moment later, signaling a customer.

  The customer was the first of several as the morning progressed, the increased traffic due to the coming solstice, or Litha, as it was called. She had to get ready herself, but it was a couple weeks away and she still had time. Besides, her plate was unbelievably full right now.

  As she handed back the change to the last customer in line, she remarked lightly, “So I’m going back to the house tonight.”

  Mags’ whole face wrinkled in concern, making her look like an angry pug, not a good look. “I’m sorry? I thought you had to deal with Nico’s grandmother situation.”

  She nodded. “I do, I just want to explore the garage and overhead apartment first.” The need for answers had become too strong to ignore.

  “And hope Mr. McMeanAss is going to be confined to the house? You’re taking a huge risk there.” She disappeared into the back to pour herself another round of tea; apparently she felt she needed the fortification.

  Nahia grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and cracked the lid. “I’m gonna hit it tonight and figure out the attraction.”

  Mags stuck her head around the corner so she could look into the shop from the back, and Nahia could see her dipping her steel mesh tea ball into her cup. “I can tell you what the attraction is. It’s the forbidden, it’s the one place on the property you haven’t been, and it may or may not be as haunted as the house itself.”

  Nahia hopped up onto the stool and paged through the random gossip rag Mags had left up there. “All good reasons, but that’s not it.” She waited until her friend returned and took her normal seat on the counter with her back to the rest of the room. “There is something there, beyond McManus. Something I need to find, that I need to see. I don’t know what it is, but it’s there, and I will find it.”

  Mags opened her mouth a couple times to rebut the argument, finally settling on sipping her steaming tea like a snarly old biddy. “Tell me you’re taking someone with you,” she grumbled.

  Shaking her head, she didn’t look up from reading. “Rollin’ solo.”

  The redhead was off the counter and in her face before she had time to breathe. “The hell you are. I don’t have to tell you why that’s an awful idea. Find someone or take me.”

  Seeing she was getting nowhere with her friend, she closed the magazine with a sigh, looking into immensely irritated green eyes. “Fine.” She wasn’t going to make Mags go with her, but she’d at least try to find someone to back her up, because she hated lying to a friend, especially one who made her living as a psychic. That had failure written all over it.

  Nico’s morning had been one for the books. After a quick trip home, it had started with an act of kindness, something about the image in the warehouse the day before that plagued his mind. His classmate, and somewhat friend, holding his lover in his arms as she bled heavily from a gunshot wound. It was the kind of stuff Scorsese had built a career on, intense, and possibly scarring. Enough so, that he showed up at the woman’s hospital room armed with two cups of coffee— one for him and Sean— and a vase full of hot pink flowers he’d picked up from the gift shop.

  Sean’s woman, Ellie, was a sweet girl, very polite and gracious, with a sarcastic sense of humor once they worked past their initial mutual shyness. It was her laughter that had woken up her sleeping boyfriend, who’d apparently crashed in a chair at her bedside the night before. Her jealous boyfriend, though he didn’t even begrudge him that. Nico knew his personal score was outstripped by his reputation, but that was neither the time nor place to defend either.

  He’d stayed just a little while more, long enough to give his gift of caffeine before heading over to Ianucci’s to meet with the family and help them out. If that meant waiting tables and tending bar, he didn’t care; he just wanted to be near them. His plan in place was to work until noon and then head west to the airport to pick up his family and bring them all back with him.

  It was a neverending, compounding list of things he needed to do, but at least his lieutenant had been understanding and given him a few extra days beyond the regular bereavement. Nigel had groused and carried on, but only for show, and had been very cool about his partner’s sudden absence. He’d been so kind, Nico feared he may have to break out the good scotch once this was all over.

  And then there was Nahia. He’d awakened with her as he had more than once, tangled limbs and temptingly soft skin, her hair doing its level best to smother him. He thought about rousing her before he left, but found he couldn’t bear to disturb her. Nico sighed and bused another table, taking the tray of dishes back to the kitchen. He had it bad for her, and though it hadn’t been that long, everything about their entanglement smacked of permanence. It was like his brain had been reprogrammed without his knowledge or permission, but he couldn’t be moved to care.

  It wasn’t until the door to the bar side of the restaurant opened and a familiar collection of silhouettes filled it, wreathed in afternoon sunlight, that he finally followed his thoughts to their logical conclusion. His family was here. His highly Catholic family. His Nahia was here. His semi-retired witch Nahia. And more likely sooner than later, both halves of his life would converge. He wiped his hands on a towel and tossed it over his shoulder before pasting on a grin to disguise the bottom dropping out of his stomach and greeting the newest restaurant patrons. “Ma, Nonna, I thought I was supposed to come get you.” Two words: Oh, dear.

  Nahia left the store early that afternoon, with Mags promising to lock up when she left and to look after it tomorrow so she could attend the funeral with Nico. She was always grateful to have a friend and tenant who was so helpful when she needed it. It was hard running a business by herself, and she was proud to say she managed and did so well, but help was always appreciated.

  Her gratitude only fueled the guilt she felt at lying to her friend. She was on her way to the house, without backup and with only the barest hints of a plan. She’d packed well, with more than a couple protective talismans and some other goodies that weren’t standing gear for a hunt, but thought she might need anyway. It was going to have to come to her, because she was like the tree down by the river, and not gonna move.

  Waiting until the street was clear of cars to make her turn was difficult during the day on Meridian Street, but she managed, and pulled her cute little blue Fiat around to the garage in the back of the house. It was as adorable as it was conspicuous, and not really given to clandestine adv
entures, but it’s not like she’d had time to lay groundwork. This was a time sensitive affair, and she was going to get it done.

  The architecture of the garage matched the house, with beautifully Gothic stonework and masonry, three glass doors for showing off the previous owners’ collection of cool cars, and murals. In each of the two car bays was a mural on the back wall, hand-painted and hauntingly beautiful. She needed a closer look.

  After attempting to lift each of the doors and having no luck, she devoted her time to the door on the side at the bottom of a staircase that led to the upstairs. That would be her next stop if this attempt failed, though it had next to no cover from the possible prying eyes of the neighbors. The door was a standard back door, heavy wood, six panes of glass in the top half. Looking over her shoulder and around, she made sure she was still unnoticed by the neighbors, though the heavily verdant landscaping definitely helped.

  Nahia knelt by her bag, pulling out an expired credit card and starting to work on the door knob. It had been a long time since she’d tried this method, and her skills were a little rusty. The prickling sensation of being watched from the house didn’t help, and yet every time she turned around, all she saw were black windows. Her eyes went to the upstairs window, the room where they’d been held briefly, and for a moment, she thought she saw a figure there, but then it dissipated.

  “If you’re feeling froggy, go ahead and leap, my friend,” she growled as she tried to work the card between the escutcheon plate of the lock and the door frame. In the backpack was a roll of masking tape she’d use to muffle her punching out a window as a last resort if necessary, but she’d hoped to not destroy any property today. So far, it was just entering, without the breaking part.

  From behind her, a beam fell over her hands, bright like from an LED flashlight. “And just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”