Storm Crazy_A paranormal cozy romance

by Livia Quinn

  My father’s image faded until all I saw was background again. I rummaged through Phoebe’s closet for a tote bag, finding a plastic green sack, into which I loaded the mirrored tray and its contents. I found a scratch pad in the kitchen by the phone and wrote, Phoebe, or whoever is living here with my mother, please call me. I wrote my cell phone and signed it, Tempe. At least if she returned, she’d know I had the items from her bedroom.

  I sank into the kitchen chair in the dark, overwhelmed by a feeling of loss. My brother was missing, and my mother wasn’t just incommunicado, she was gone as well. Was it voluntary, or was she a victim of whatever had happened to my brother?

  Any other time the tap on the kitchen door would have made me jump, but I just didn’t have the energy. It eased open, and I heard the clump of heavy boots on the kitchen linoleum.

  “What the hell are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

  Jack

  The room was dark, but the meager light from the window illuminated my quarry at the kitchen table with her head in her hands. “What the hell are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

  I winced as my question came out more harshly than I’d intended. When I went back to BBs the bartender said Tempe had paced the floor of the bar drinking coffee for an hour, then asked for the truck keys McGuinness had tossed him. Without a word, she walked out the door and drove off.

  I’d tracked her down to tell her I was sorry for the way I reacted at the bar when I discovered her with the PI I was beginning to suspect jealousy might be at play.

  She looked up from the table, light reflecting on the silent tears coursing down her cheeks. Oh, man. I couldn’t help feeling that my actions might have put a cap on her day. She’d been shocked at my announcement earlier, but instead of leaning on either me or the inspector, she’d told us where to go and set out on her own to get answers. If only I’d stuck to the plan I’d made on the way back from Amity…

  I’d been worried about the body being River’s and how I would deliver that news. Instead of giving her the good news like I intended and telling her I planned to step up my investigation into River’s disappearance—after finding her in a lip lock with McGuinness—I blew a fuse and kicked her when she was down. I felt like a jerk.

  The woman got to me. She got on my last nerve most of the time but it was usually preceded by a jolt like the one from my F-18’s afterburners. The Tempe I was used to, with her feistiness and weird little “talents” didn’t resemble this Tempe, who seemed to have run out of feist.

  My fingers itched to touch her, so I balled my hands into fists to keep from reaching out to comfort. “Are you all right?” I glanced toward the hallway. “What happened?” Maybe she discovered her mother lying in one of those rooms, or her brother. Why did she look so sad?

  Flashes from the outside lights flickered across her eyes when she looked up, making them appear lit from within.

  “Stay here.” With my hand on my Glock, I searched the house, noting the slippers next to the bed and the cane in the living room. Finding nothing but an empty house, I was curious what had brought on such a reaction from her. I heard water running in the kitchen.

  I looked behind the bedroom door and found a picture of Tempe, her mother and River. She must have been around eight, her eyes bright with laughter. She was tickling her brother and making a face, her red hair draped around his face. There was an odd expression on Phoebe Pomeroy’s face. As if she was smiling at someone next to her, but no one was there.

  I heard water running in the kitchen, closed the door and walked back down the hallway. The light was on, and Tempe stood at the sink drinking water out of a Styrofoam cup. I put my hand on the refrigerator door, and for the first time since I’d arrived, Tempe spoke. “It’s empty.” She blew out a sigh placing the cup on the counter, leaning her hip against it.

  “It looks like no one’s been here in days, possibly longer,” I said, worried about her frame of mind. I walked over to her, and this time I gave in to the impulse to comfort her, placing my hands on her upper arms and rubbing as if I could flush the chill from her heart.

  Did she fall toward me, or had I embraced her? All I knew was I felt comforted as well with her head resting against me. She felt real and solid. She’d scared me with her lack of fire. This was not my Tempe. I sucked in a breath.

  So, there it was. I was starting to feel possessive towards her. Especially since it no longer compromised my job or my principles. “Tempe.” I held her at a distance so I could tip her chin up.

  I never noticed how beautiful her irises were, the flecks like flying snow lit in the beam of headlights, sparkling gold and silver; they were alive with every emotion stirring inside her, which was encouraging.

  “I’m sorry.” I watched those expressive eyes widen as I bent toward her.

  Chapter 30

  Tempe

  Cocooned in Jack’s embrace after feeling like I’d never be warm again, my heart soared with hope. His heart thumped against my cheek as I breathed out against his chest, reassured for once that we weren’t at cross purposes.

  “I’m sorry.” The words rumbled up from his chest as he tilted my face up to his. He was so handsome. This close, I could see the laugh lines and the crease in his cheek that became a dimple when he smiled, which wasn’t often enough.

  My eyes widened as those silver green eyes softened and his face came closer. His lips touched mine in a comforting kiss, at first. Then the spark ignited and brought me alive. I threaded my hands through his hair and tugged his head down, yearning for more.

  He moaned and took the kiss deeper, his tongue coaxing the seam of my lips as I opened for him. He kissed me like he was starving, devouring my mouth, holding me so tightly I could feel the steely muscles of his biceps. I drank him in, inhaling his scent, tasting his exquisite flavor. His lower body pressed against me once, then the hard ridge of desire, which had drawn an answering clench within me was withdrawn. The kiss ended. A small whimper escaped.

  He chuckled. “Feeling better?” One hand rested gently on my shoulder, the other stroked my hair as he studied me.

  “Is that how you lift the spirits of all damsels in distress?” I asked.

  “Nope. This was a first.” His rueful expression confirmed it.

  “So what were you sorry about?” I looked down at his belt buckle noting that his interest hadn’t waned. “Kissing me?”

  He made a choked laugh. “Is that what that kiss felt like to you?” He pressed against me again before putting some space between us. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “I…oh hell, Tempe. I didn’t mean to strike out at you earlier. The ironic thing is I wanted to be the one to tell you the good news about what I found in Amity—”

  “Instead you hit me with the bad news about Phoebe,” I said.

  “I wish we could do the whole evening over, forget about that whole scene at BBs.” He squinted at me, “Especially the part about you kissing McGuinness.”

  I felt the flush rise on my face. “Well, not that you have any right to tell me who I can kiss…” His eyes flared again. I smiled, “But there really isn’t anything between Dylan and me anymore. He was apologizing, and I was in a vulnerable state.”

  “Uh-huh. So did I take advantage of you just now? If so…”

  “Please don’t say it.” I rolled my head back and looked at the ceiling and wondered once again—with everything that had been going on with the male population lately, both human and fae—how I could trust this moment, or my emotions to be based on anything but the craziness of my impending change.

  “Why don’t you tell me why you were sitting in this empty house, in the dark, looking so lost.” Jack said.

  Without being able to explain to this human about the connections between Paramortals, and my family in particular, I had to rely on something he could understand.

  I looked through the window over the sink across the backyard to the road that led out of town. “I can’t feel them. Have
you ever felt so far away from someone you loved that…” I couldn’t say it. What if giving voice to it brought about the very result I feared?

  He said, “That you can’t feel their presence. It’s like they’re—”

  I turned and gripped his arm. “Don’t say it.” I squeezed my eyes shut.

  Strong arms wrapped around me, one hand stroking my hair, as he spoke softly, “When I was on duty overseas, I remember wondering if Jordie was okay, if something had happened to her. I didn’t talk to her for months and couldn’t feel her… existence. Feeling that, fearing it, even saying it won’t make it so, Tempe. We are going to find them.”

  “It’s…” We are going to find them. Did he mean it? The truth behind his words hit me. “You believe me,” I said, relief bringing on more tears.

  “Yes. That’s what I intended to tell you last night. Even though I can’t say I believe everything you’ve told me. You’re holding something back.”

  I bit my tongue and subtly switched subjects. “I’m going to go home and get a couple hours sleep before work.”

  “All right.” He looked around the barren kitchen, adjusted his belt. “Jordie says you’ve been arm-twisting your friends to come to the game tomorrow.”

  I smiled. “It didn’t get that far. She’s a big hit with everyone who meets her.”

  “She’s more excited than I’ve seen her since…well, ever.” He grinned. “And for that…” he reached for me.

  One thoroughly toe curling kiss later, he was gone. As soon as I uncurled those toes, I followed, locking the door and taking the extra key with me.

  Tempe

  Friday turned out to be a light mail day, but before I left for the route, Richard brought me a complaint. “Mrs. Wisner called. He read the note, ‘The mail person on Wednesday did not come to the door. They left the pink slip in her mailbox instead.’”

  I knew that sub. If she didn’t get out, there was only one reason—a bad dog. She would have honked a half dozen times and sat in the driveway until she figured the residents weren’t home, or they were ignoring her. It happens.

  So now I had to explain, yet again, that a customer’s beloved “harmless” pet was a problem. I’d heard the arguments a zillion times.

  “My dog doesn’t bite.”

  “Oh, he’s not serious, he’s just barking.”

  “You’re afraid of a little dog like that?”

  “But he’s just a puppy.”

  Or the infamous, “He just wants to play.”

  I’d been bitten by friendly dogs, mad dogs, playful dogs, and puppies—intentionally and unintentionally. But the result is the same. If we report a dog bite, we’re fired. Is it any wonder few are willing to take the risk? And we take the heat from both ends because we’re expected to deliver the mail anyway.

  I honked and the woman stepped out onto her front porch. I felt stupid explaining why the other carrier hadn’t gotten out when the canine actor playing possum at her feet never even barked. With one sarcastic lift of her eyebrow and a glance down at her “harmless” dog, she said disgustedly, “Whatever,” and walked back inside, unconvinced.

  Some situations are a lose-lose.

  The bell above the door to Aurora’s shop jingled as I pushed it open.

  “I’m back here, Tempe.”

  I don’t know how she did that, but it’s always weird. I walked around the wall into the rear portion of the shop where Aurora stood surrounded by boxes. “Wow, what a mess,” I said. “Can I help?”

  “Didn’t you have plans this afternoon?”

  “I’m waiting to hear from Dylan regarding River’s amphora, to do the ceremonial initiation.”

  “Tempe, why didn’t you say something? Call Dylan and tell him to find another Djinn and meet us at La Grand Morte at 11:00 tonight. Bring the new bottle.”

  “Big Mort? What about Lightning Bayou? It’s bigger, plenty of water, lots of gators and other sacrificial candidates.”

  “That’s the point, dear.” She smiled while she continued to unpack, “We need a dead lake.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what ceremonializing a bottle involved, but I figured it probably meant a spell or two…and blood…and who knew? Apparently, everybody but me.

  Aurora stopped her unpacking and tilted her head. Waiting.

  “Oh, right. I’ll call Dylan.”

  I walked outside. Dylan seemed to know exactly what Aurora had in mind and promised to be there promptly at eleven.

  When I reentered her workroom, Aurora was head down into a large box of dress bags. “Help me with these, will you?” The slithery plastic held oodles of frothy ball gowns in an array of colors and sizes. There must have been forty of them. Some were sheer filmy chiffon and others heavy with multi colored sequins and rhinestones. I held hangers for her while she unfolded and priced each one. I then moved each one to the appropriate section on the rack. I could do this. There were Cinderella-styled ball gowns, figure hugging knits, flowing silk A-lines, and ornate fit and flares, according to her. I learned more about fancy dresses in thirty minutes than I ever could have imagined.

  My eye caught on a dress hanging on the steaming rack. It was the color of a winter thunderstorm. Its heart shaped bodice and waistline were covered in rhinestones that reflected like diamonds. To say I wasn’t a girly girl…well, we’ve been there, but this dress made me want to be.

  “Beautiful isn’t it?” said Aurora from over my shoulder.

  “For sure, but I’d never have the occasion to wear something like that. What’s next?”

  “After we get these gowns up, I have candles, and look at these wonderful blown glass earrings.”

  There were decanters, the thingies that sit down over candles, sequined shoes, and a box full of jewelry.

  “My last shipment of Mardi Gras masks and gowns is due tomorrow. I’ll probably be here Sunday trying to get everything priced and displayed before Monday. Next week will be crazy leading up to the Grand Ball, not to mention the upcoming proms.”

  She was playing right into my hands. “I might have the perfect solution for you.”

  Aurora poured us each a cup of tea and leaned against the counter. “Tell me.”

  “Have either Montana or Kat mentioned the basketball game tomorrow? Jack’s daughter is the star player, and I promised her a bunch of us would be there. I sorta volunteered you as well.”

  “So it’s ‘Jack’ now?” She laughed at my poor attempt to keep a straight face. “Anyway, the daughter, Jordan? I read the sports column about her in the Destiny Tribune.”

  Now that was an image. My otherworldly mentor, Aurora Boreal, pouring over the sports section.

  “Jordie says this is a huge game for them, and she apparently doesn’t have a lot of friends. She invited us to come for the Mardi Gras float decorating at 2:00 and stay for the pep rally before the game.”

  “Sounds like fun. I’ll look forward to it. But I’m not sure what time I’ll get there, since there’s a Mardi Gras ball tomorrow night, and I’ll probably have last minute customers. I can bring some special beads and trinkets I’ve been holding on to. Now tell me about this perfect solution.”

  I squirmed. “Oh that.” She cocked her head patiently. “Seems Jordie’s looking for a part-time job after school. But it has to work around her practice schedule and her father’s…”

  “Suspicious nature?” Aurora smiled. “If I like this girl, I’ll definitely hire her. I need some late afternoon help, and a popular teenage athlete would be good for business.”

  “You may as well write her name on your schedule, because she’s a jewel.”

  She reached over and took my hands in hers, her expression turning serious. “What else is on your mind? Your aura is a bit gray.”

  “Really?”

  “No, silly. That’s your bailiwick. But I can tell you’re a bit down. What is it?”

  I sighed. “Jack—” I started to tell her what he’d told me about Phoebe, then blurted out —“kissed me.”

/>   Her eyes and mouth turned up in delight. “What brought that on?”

  I bounced up, pacing to the door and back. “Okay, that’s the point. I’m asking myself the same thing. I mean, was he feeling sorry for me, or did he finally give in to this attraction I’ve felt since I first saw him?”

  “Why would he feel sorry for you? I’m pretty sure he’s felt more than a little irritated with you since you met.”

  “This is true.” So I told her about meeting Dylan, about his apology, and finally about Phoebe’s connection to the victim and her supposed “lovers”.

  “Poppycock!” pronounced Aurora, her eyes flaring with indignation.

  “Well, I searched her house. There was a man’s set of slippers by the bed and a cane in the living room.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

  I paused, tapping my fingertips on the counter, thinking back over the condition of the house.

  “What is it?” Aurora asked.

  “I don’t know. There was something wrong about the house. The whole place looked like it had been cleaned out to rent but…”

  Aurora finished off her tea and set the cup in the sink. Sounding somewhat distracted, she asked, “Do you want to try the mindlink?”

  I chuffed, “I’d have more success posting on social media, and you know how adept I am at Squawker and Snapchat.” My sarcasm was met with a hug.

  “We’re going to find them, Tempe.”

  “Funny. That’s exactly what Jack said to me.”

  “Well then. Believe it.”

  “How much longer does River have, Aurora? Can he last until the full moon, or is it the Coincidence?”

  “The time of the lunar full moon is mathematically predictable, based on a millennia of observations and modern technological reporting. It’s a matter of gravity, orbit and distance from the earth. The full moon begins next Friday and will provide the strongest boost to your family frequency. If you’re going to connect with River that would be your best opportunity, until the Coincidence.”