“Yeah, well, there’s something I haven’t told you.”
He sat up straighter and stared at me, his interest piqued. “Really?”
“Yeah, he called me two nights ago to tell me that he’d seen a man in his backyard at the housekeeper’s cottage and that the man was Emmanuel Dubois. I pointed out to him that that was impossible, and it was probably some vagrant that looked like Dubois.”
“Yeah. That doesn’t sound like something to have caused him to be pissed off enough to not want to talk to you.”
“Well, I might have told him he just thought it was Dubois, because he was overwrought, given everything that had happened in the last few weeks.”
Luc stared at me for a minute before speaking. “First, I want to know if you actually told him that he was overwrought, like he’s some delicate flower?”
“No, I don’t think I used that word, exactly, but I might have said that his mind was playing tricks on him because he’d been under a lot of stress.”
Luc snorted. “Oh, well, yeah, that’s so much better—just tell him he might be crazy and/or hallucinating.” He shook his head sadly and gave me a look that said I was too pathetic for words. “You had this hot as hell guy calling you because he sees someone that looks just like a man that we all know is dead, and you want to analyze him? What the hell is wrong with you? That was your chance to be his knight in shining armor.”
“Well, I was going to offer to ride out there and check it out, but he hung up on me, and I couldn’t get him back on the phone. I should have gone anyway, and now I’m worried that something’s happened to him. I, honest to God, thought that he was just acting like a brat—hanging up on me and refusing to answer the phone when I called back. Shit. I should have already been out there to check on him.” I stood up, suddenly unable to sit there another second and grabbed my car keys, anxious to be on my way. “I’m some damn fine cop,” I was mumbling, but he heard me.
“You are a good cop and you know it, but you might not have been as objective as you usually are. Don’t beat yourself up about this. Did he ask you to come out there? Did he sound afraid?” When I shook my head no, he said, “My guess is that he’s fine. He’s probably just still pissed off at you, but I think it’s a good idea to go see before you drive yourself crazy. Do you want me to go with you?”
I shook my head. “No, I’ll call you if I need you. I’m going to ask the Captain if I can leave early to take care of some personal business, which it is. I don’t see any need to write it up as a case...yet. Rafe didn’t seem to be worried about his safety when I spoke with him, so I figure you’re right, and he’s still mad at me. I just want to make sure there’s nothing else wrong.”
“Okay, but be careful. Call me if you need me.”
I nodded and went straight to the Captain’s office. I was on my way to Ravenwood five minutes later. On the drive to the house, I was beating myself up for not going to look around the property the night he called. Instead, I had treated it like a lover’s spat and now, if something had happened to Rafe, it would totally be my fault.
By the time I got there, I’d imagined all kinds of scenarios and was frantic. I took the front steps up onto the porch two at a time and banged on the heavy wooden door using the old door knocker with the raven on it first and then pounded it with my fist. What was taking so long? His car was in the driveway so he must be here. Was there something wrong with him? Was he injured and unable to get to the door—or worse, was he lying in a pool of blood somewhere in this creepy old place, cold and dead? I took out my revolver and was getting ready to try and kick the door in when it opened.
Rafe looked stunned to see me. “What the fuck are you doing, Gage, trying to tear the front door down? And what’s with the gun?”
Relief and anger warred inside me. “I thought something might be wrong, and I was about to kick this damn door in. What the hell took you so long to open the door?”
“I was busy.”
“Doing what, for God’s sake? I was sure that somebody had killed you or you were lying on the floor unconscious and bleeding out.”
“I was…” He stopped in mid-sentence and said, “Never mind. I’m fine.”
“And why the hell have you been ignoring my calls?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think we had anything else to say to each other.”
God, I wanted to throttle him. Throttle? There was a word I didn’t think I’d ever used in my life, but it was perfect for how I felt. I was still standing on the porch, so I said, “Do you mind if I come in?”
He looked undecided for a second and then opened the door wider. “Please, do come in, Detective. What a pleasure to see you.” Sarcasm was dripping from every word. I could tell it wasn’t going to be easy to placate him, but for some reason, I wanted to try. I thought I must be getting old. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have put up with the kind of attitude he was giving me for five minutes, no matter how gorgeous the guy was. Hell, a few years? Make that a few months. My viewpoint had always been that guys were like buses—if you missed one, there’s always another one coming along. So, what was different about Rafe?
I didn’t have time to think about it, other than to realize that I was so fucked, because he led me into the library, as he called it. I hadn’t noticed that his cat was following along with us until the damn thing tripped me as I entered the room where I’d first interviewed him when his grandfather was murdered. Somehow I managed not to fall flat on my face as I took a seat on the sofa, and he sat in the chair across from me. It was exactly where we’d sat that morning I’d come to investigate the murder. We stared across at each other, neither of us speaking for a minute. The cat jumped up onto the arm of his chair, and I swear the bastard was giving me an evil smirk.
Finally, Rafe spoke up. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit, Detective?”
Again, with the sarcasm—and he was being very formal, which irritated the shit out of me. Jesus Christ! I’d seen him naked, after all—not to mention I’d had my tongue down his throat and my fingers wrapped around his dick. You’d think we were past calling each other by courtesy titles. God, he was infuriating. I wanted to tell him that I’d just come to check on him and then, walk out, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to leave yet. I wanted to spend some time with him.
“I came to check on you. I was concerned when I couldn’t get you on the phone.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why is that, Detective? Am I a suspect in another of your murder investigations? Were you afraid I’d gone on the lam?”
I took a deep breath and blew it out. He was exasperating, and for some reason that I couldn’t explain for the life of me, I seemed to love it. “No,” I said through clenched teeth. “Like I said, I was worried about you since I couldn’t get you on the phone for days. And by the way, Rafe, my name is Gage, not Detective. I’m pretty sure we’ve moved past that by now.”
He gave me a sweet smile, which, by the way, was completely phony. “Really, Gage, in what way have we moved past it? I took you at your word that our little encounter was a mistake, and I was trying to take us back to square one as if it never happened. Now you’re not happy with that either. I have to admit that I’m a little confused.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It wasn’t a mistake—well, it was, but only….”
“See? There you go with it wasn’t, but it was. And now, on top of it, I’m being ridiculous. What the hell?”
“I think you’re being deliberately…” I cut myself off before I put my foot in it again. God, he was driving me crazy. I couldn’t speak for a minute, so I stood up and walked over to the window that looked out on the back yard in order to gather my thoughts.
“Gage…”
I turned around and held up my hand. “Stop. Let me finish what I was about to say. What I’ve been trying to tell you is that the sex...the uh, relationship was great, but the timing was a mistake. I was still investigating your grandfather’s murder, and that w
as a huge conflict of interest. What if you’d been the killer?”
“I understand what you’re saying, but I wouldn’t have killed my own grandfather.”
“Plenty of people do, Rafe. Most murders aren’t just random killings, you know. They’re usually committed by someone close to the victim, like a family member. And that was the case here, too. Emmanuel killed your grandfather. His own father.”
Rafe frowned. “You know, I came to live here when I was a baby, probably a year old or a little more, and I never once suspected that Emmanuel was Abel’s son. I never saw Abel show Emmanuel a scrap of affection—or Camille either, for that matter. My grandfather wasn’t a particularly affectionate man, but you’d think that there would have been some sort of connection.” He shook his head sadly.
“What about Camille? How did she treat you and Sophie and Thibeau when you came here to live?”
“Actually, not bad. Looking back on it, she was pretty good to us, considering the circumstances. I certainly never felt like she hated us as we were growing up, but she must have.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know about that, cher. She may have been one of those women who simply loves children, no matter what. I think her beef was with Abel, but she must have realized, at some point, that she’d have to get rid of you and your brother and sister before Emmanuel could inherit anything. She may not have even wanted to but felt that there were no other options. After all, blood is thicker than water. That’s when she started coming after Beau. She would have worked her way through all of you.”
Rafe looked sad. “I know, but there wasn’t much to inherit, especially not enough to kill for. There was this rambling old house, which looks like it’s about to fall in any day, and a few antiques. The only thing worth a lot of money was the blood diamond, and my grandfather had it cut so he could sell the pieces, from what we learned later. He could have gotten more money for the whole piece, but he had to keep it a secret.”
“Why is that?”
“Huh? Oh...reasons. Family stuff. Nothing to do with the murder.”
“Then why don’t you tell me?”
He huffed out a breath. “Because you wouldn’t believe me, and you’d say I was crazy again.”
“I never said you were crazy, bebe. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”
The endearment had just slipped out, but it felt right. Besides, I saw his beautiful eyes flicker up at me when I said it, and I knew it pleased him. As my memere used to say, I could catch more flies with honey.
“Okay, there’s a curse on it. Like the curse on the Hope Diamond. You’ve heard of that, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, same thing.”
“Yeah, but nobody knew that about this blood diamond, only your grandfather. By the way, were you and your brother able to locate who the pieces had been sold to?”
“He and Nic are working on it. They think it’s possible that there may even be some more pieces hidden here in the house. Actually, Beau did know about the diamond and even saw it once. And a lot of people in our um, circle, knew about the diamond. Anyway, Beau said it was a really large stone, so if it was cut into two or three carat pieces, there would be a lot of them, and Abel probably couldn’t sell them all at once. Besides, I think he’d have held onto some of them to sell when he really needed to. But I’ve looked everywhere that I could think my grandfather might have hidden something, and I haven’t had any luck.”
“If you could find some of those pieces, all of you would be pretty wealthy, wouldn’t you?”
“Beau would, since everything went to him as the eldest. Not that he’d want any part of the thing, and neither would I. I don’t think Sophie would either. Whatever part of the De Lys diamond we can find needs to be locked away again.”
“Why?”
“Because of the curse! It’s dangerous. It always has been. Believe me or not, but that’s why it was locked up in that safe, and I can’t understand why my grandfather would even think about doing what he did.”
I shrugged. “I don’t believe in all that supernatural non…that supernatural stuff, like curses, but I know you do. That’s how you were apparently raised, and I respect that. Let’s talk about this guy you saw in your yard. Will you please come over here and point out where you saw the man who looked like Emmanuel?”
“I’m not sure anymore that he is a man, Gage. I spoke with Beau and Nic and they convinced me that if I really saw Emmanuel—and I know I did—then it had to be Emmanuel’s ghost or spirit that’s come back to haunt us. He doesn’t really look like one, or feel like one either, but I’ve accepted that he must be.”
“I don’t want you to get pissed off at me again, but I still don’t believe in ghosts or all that hocus pocus shit. And anything that comes from Nic Gaudet, I’d take with a big grain of salt. Hell, a whole shaker full.”
****
Rafe
Hocus pocus shit? And why did he hate Nic so much? How was I supposed to tell him about me and my family when he said things like that? There was no way any discussion about that was going to end well. We’d just end up in another big fight and he’d decide for sure that I was batshit crazy and that would be that. On the other hand, maybe I wouldn’t have to tell him anything. Personal feelings and family secrets were usually saved for serious relationships, and we didn’t have any kind of relationship now, serious or otherwise. We’d had great sex—and that was it.
I got up and walked over to where he was standing. It was a bay window with a window seat and was one of my favorite places in the house. I’d always found it soothing to sit there and gaze out at the woods behind the house. I guess, even as a child, it grounded me—especially when my grandfather was trying to teach me how to use my magic or how to control it, and he would get aggravated with me, which was pretty often. I couldn’t help but smile thinking about how many times I heard the words headstrong and hopeless.
Gage was giving me an odd look, probably wondering what I was smiling at, but he didn’t say anything about it. I guess he’d already decided that I had some sort of mental issues, since I was so sure I was seeing a dead man. God, if he only knew. That made me smile again. I had to give it to him, though, he’d gone into cop mode and began asking questions. “Let’s assume he’s real for a moment, okay? Is this where you were when you saw him?”
“Yes, the second time I saw him was from this window. The first time was from my bedroom window.”
“Can you point out where he was when you saw him from here?”
“Yes. I was sitting here, drinking a glass of wine and daydreaming, I guess. This has always been my quiet place, somewhere to go to just relax. Anyway, like I said, I was here, looking out at nothing in particular when a movement caught my eye. That’s when I saw him sitting on the edge of the porch, staring at the house.”
“Did you recognize him immediately as Emmanuel?”
“No. He was too far away, but I did feel like it was him.”
“Why exactly?”
“I don’t know, Gage, it was just a really weird feeling, nothing specific, other than the fact that I was almost certain of who he was. Like you would be if you saw me or one of your friends somewhere. I kept watching him, trying to figure out if I was seeing things. I looked away for just a second and when I looked back, he was just…gone.”
At the time, I thought that the man was real, and he didn’t feel like a ghost. Most of the time I can tell the difference in a spirit and a living person. Of course, I didn’t say any of that to Gage. I didn’t want to give him even more ammunition to use against me.
“Do you think he saw you standing here? Maybe he saw you looking at him and went back into the woods.”
“He wouldn’t have had time. I don’t know if he could have seen me or not. It was around dusk, and I hadn’t turned any lights on yet, so I don’t know how visible I’d have been. All I really know is he disturbed me.”
“Okay, when did you see him the first time?”
<
br /> “About two days before, but that time I was upstairs, looking out my bedroom window.” I smiled and looked over at him. “It sounds like I stare out the window a lot.”
“I think that’s a normal reaction since you’re alone here, now—just you and the attack cat, who, by the way, hates me.” I watched as he looked down at Loki, who was staring up at him, and Gage gave a little shiver. “To tell the truth, I’d put that cat up against anybody that came in here and tried to bother you in any way.”
I reached down and picked Loki up in my arms. He nuzzled my neck and began purring loudly. “Don’t be silly, Gage. This cat is a sweetheart. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll reserve judgement on that. Now, how about we go up to your bedroom?”
I arched a brow and then winked at him. “I like a man who knows what he wants. Let’s go.” He looked flustered for a second, and I swear I saw him blush a little. God, it was so much fun to tease him.
Gage cleared his throat—I’d noticed he usually did that when he was nervous or uncomfortable. It was cute. “I just meant that I wanted to see your vantage point from that window.”
I gave him a little pout and sighed. “Well, that’s disappointing.” I turned away from the window and said, “Follow me.” He walked with me to the staircase, then waited for me to lead the way. I silently thanked the universe for the fact that I’d chosen to wear my skinny jeans that day. At the risk of sounding immodest, I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I have a nice ass, and those jeans show it off quite well. I felt that it certainly didn’t hurt to let him see what he’d been missing.
When we reached the top of the stairs, he was breathing a little harder, and I didn’t think it was from exertion. I led him to my bedroom and walked across to the double window. “As you can see, we’re at the other end of the house now and a little closer to where I saw the man.”
“I see that, but I still don’t see how you would have been able to tell that he looked just like Emmanuel. Is this approximately where you were standing?”
Haunted (Witches of the Big Easy Book 3) Page 6
