by Maeve Hart
“Are your family and my family in some kind of a feud? My grandmother only does spells on people who pay her. She’s convinced they work and I suppose they do.”
“Absolutely.”
I frowned. “Well?”
“You’re not ready to understand any of it, and when you are, I’ll tell you everything.” He turned around and cracked two eggs into a bowl. “I’m sorry about what happened last night with Seamus.”
“Why did he do that?” I asked.
“He’s not to be trusted. I can tell you right now. He likes to enrage me sometimes and he knew fooling with my prize he’d do just that.”
“What’s your prize?”
He swung around. “You are, Destiny. You’re my mate; it was destined.”
I looked down into my coffee, wondering how on earth I was meant to react to that. I knew I should be annoyed that he just assumed I’d be okay with what he was saying—it wasn’t like I’d asked for any of this—but part of me was thrilled he thought of me in that way. Then again, we’d been naked in the same bed last night and nothing had happened. Was it that he found me unattractive, or was there another reason?
All that Jacques said was odd. I’d just lost my fiancé and now he’s telling me I’m meant to be his mate? It was a lot to take in.
I’d gone from being a reluctant witch to being a reluctant shifter. I had turned into a wolf last night and must’ve done so too in the alley, so what he said had to be true. This was not something I could take or leave like the witchcraft. I couldn’t deny the fact that my body could change into a wolf, and nor could I deny the fact that I felt a connection with Jacques.
“You’ve gone very quiet, Destiny.”
I looked up at him and took a deep breath. “I want to know more about everything. And please don’t say I’ll find out in time.”
He chuckled. “Soon,” he said. “I’ll take you to my house soon and tell you everything.”
That was probably as good an offer as I was going to get, so I accepted it. “Okay, thank you.” I sighed. “I don’t know if I can stay away from my family. They’re a part of who I am. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to find a way to bring peace.”
“You can do that?”
“I can try.” He smiled. “But I think it’ll take some time.”
“Do you mind if I have a look around before we leave?”
“Sure, go right ahead. Be quick, though—the eggs are nearly ready.”
I was amazed he let me have a look around unsupervised. I headed to his den, hoping he’d left some paperwork lying around. Could I trust him? As soon as I walked into the room I knew he’d have some kind of surveillance system. Snooping around wouldn’t do me any good and would put me on his bad side. That was something I couldn’t afford in case I ended up back in the joint. It occurred to me that I was already thinking like a criminal after a few hours in jail.
I went from room to room admiring the up-to-the-minute designs and the opulent fixtures. Each of the three bathrooms and the two powder rooms had different varieties of marble. I wondered if he had a heli-pad and a swimming pool on the roof—nothing would surprise me and from all the reports I’d heard he had enough money to have anything he wanted.
The library was the same size as the den. One wall was covered with leather-bound antique books, which matched well with the wood paneled walls.
“Breakfast,” I heard Jacques call out.
I headed back, following the direction of his voice.
“It’s such a beautiful place,” I said when I sat back down in the kitchen.
He smiled and placed the eggs in front of me, taking the seat opposite. “Eat up.”
Jacques was so different from Don. Don had always made comments about my weight and was always telling me I shouldn’t eat so much whereas Jacques had just served me up a huge plate of bacon, eggs, fried tomato and toast.
“It’s so good for a man to be able to cook.”
“You don’t like cooking?”
I shook my head. “It’s not something I’ve ever been good at.”
“You have to enjoy it to be good at it.”
I cut a piece of bacon and popped it into my mouth. It was cooked just the way I like it—well done and partly crispy. Looking across at him, I said, “Perfect.”
Chapter 16
We walked up the stairs to the loft apartment. All the while I was thinking of the last time I’d been there when I’d been surprised to see that Jacques was my new client.
He pushed the door open and we found six tradesmen working.
I stepped further inside. “It’s really taking shape.”
“It should be good. Thanks to your designs.”
“I’ll feel spoiled living here.”
“I want you to feel spoiled and special.” He placed his arm around my waist making my heart flutter, while we walked around looking at the bedrooms, which now had walls, and then the two bathrooms and the open kitchen.
“This place is pretty amazing. I love all these windows.”
As I examined the white granite slab for the kitchen countertop, remembering I’d pitched a different countertop to him, he said quietly, “You’ll have to give the police this address. It’s in an overseas company name so they won’t be able to trace it back to me. Tell them you’re house-sitting for a client.”
“What if they ask who it is?”
“Tell them the identity of your clients is confidential.”
“Is there a reason they can’t know it’s you?” I thought that a rational question.
“Don’t forget I was Don’s boss and Don was murdered. I don’t want them snooping around asking questions.”
I nodded.
“And your family will no doubt want to know where you’re living.”
I looked around me. “They’ll know I never would be able to afford a place like this.”
“Give them the same story as you give the police.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve got people working around the clock here. It should be ready in a couple of days. And when it’s done, you’ll have to stay here for a few nights in case you’re being watched.”
“Do you think I am?”
“Most likely.”
I sighed. “Now I’ll have to face the funeral, but before that I’ll have to visit Don’s mother.”
“I won’t be far away.”
Despite everything, that made me feel better.
When we got to Abbie’s place, I saw her front door open.
“Thank goodness she’s home,” I said before I turned back to Jacques. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me—getting me out of jail and everything. I just wish I knew why you were doing it.”
“You just have to believe. Have faith in me.” He took hold of my hand.
I looked into his eyes, wondering if he had some power over me when he held my hand. It made me melt.
He said, “You’ve got my number. Call me anytime. I’ll be in touch in a couple of days.”
“Thank you, Jacques.” I got out of the car and Abbie walked toward me.
“You’re out!”
“Yes. They dropped the charges.”
She hugged me and I heard the soft rumble of Jacques’ car leaving.
“I’m so glad.” She stepped back. “Was that Jacques Hunter?”
“Yes.”
“What were you doing in the car with him?”
I had to lie. “He was at the courthouse this morning and he offered to drive me here.” What else could I say? I went back to his apartment and met his shifter friends, nearly got attacked, fell asleep naked in Jacques’ arms, and then he made me breakfast? Lying was a necessity.
“That was a weird coincidence. Courthouse! Oh no. Steve was meeting me at the courthouse with a lawyer for you. I’ll have to call him and tell him you’re out.”
I followed Abbie back into the house. “Thanks so much. Please thank Steve for all
his trouble.”
“I will.” After she hung up the phone from Steve, Abbie said, “You met Jacques at your engagement party, didn’t you?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I’ve taken the day off. I thought I’d be in court all day or something.”
“Oh, you didn’t need to do that. I feel so bad.”
“There’s no need. You’d do the same for me,” Abbie said.
“Yes, I would every day of the week.” I looked down at my clothes. “I should change.”
“I’ve got a wardrobe full of my mother’s clothes, so just take anything you want. She won’t be back here for awhile.”
I was thankful to get into some clean clothes. When I’d changed and had just sat down in the living room with Abbie, there was a knock on the door.
Abbie jumped up to get it and I heard Detective Andrews’ unmistakable voice.
“I’m Detective Andrews. We met yesterday.”
I jumped to my feet and hurried to join Abbie at the door. “Do you have any news?”
“First of all, I owe you an apology. May I come in?”
“Yes, please do,” Abbie said, stepping aside.
Once we were all seated, he began, “There was a mistake at the lab with your fingerprints, Ms. Stephens.”
I noticed he had brought a folder with him that sat neatly on his knees.
“Oh, is that what happened?”
He slowly nodded. “Yes. There was a mix up.”
I knew the ‘mix up’ was most likely the work of Jacques. He’d probably paid someone a good chunk of money to say they’d made a mistake.
“Have you found out how Don died yet?”
“He was poisoned. That’s the coroner’s opinion and now we have to wait for the confirmation of that.”
“I wasn’t aware I had any kind of poison in the apartment.”
“What kind of poison was it?” Abbie asked.
“The coroner says strychnine.”
“How was he poisoned?”
He pulled out a photograph and showed me. “This bottle had soda in it and we believe it was mixed with the poison in that bottle.”
I studied the picture. It was a dark brown glass bottle, which struck me as odd. It didn’t look like a bottle someone would drink from. The shape of it looked familiar. Why was Donald drinking soda from an unmarked bottle? Where had it come from?
“He was murdered?” Abbie asked the detective.
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“That bottle wasn’t in my fridge when I left Donald there and I never bought soda.” When the detective said nothing, I asked, “And when will his body be released?”
“The medical examiner has already released his body.”
“So Don’s mother knows—about it being a murder, I mean?”
“Yes, she does.”
“I guess I’ll have to talk to her then.”
He rose to his feet. “Good luck.”
I stood up. “Would he have suffered?”
“It wouldn’t have been pleasant, but it appears to have been over quickly.” He nodded, turned, and continued on his way, but then he stopped and looked over his shoulder directly at me. “You won’t be leaving town, will you?”
“Absolutely not. There’s a funeral to arrange. I’m not going anywhere.” As soon as I closed the door, I said to Abbie, “Will you come with me to Donald’s mother’s place?”
“She doesn’t like me,” Abbie protested.
“I don’t think she likes anyone,” I said.
Slowly, she nodded. “Okay.”
Chapter 17
Abbie stopped the car not far from Maggie’s house. I’d only been there a handful of times. There was a car in the driveway I recognized as belonging to Don’s sister, Jennifer. Jennifer had once made a remark that Don was like Jekyll & Hyde, explaining she never knew what mood he’d be in. I’d felt the same.
After we had knocked on the door, it was Jennifer’s husband, Peter, who answered it.
“It’s good to see you, Destiny. Come in.”
I introduced Abbie, and then he showed us into the living room. Maggie was sitting on the couch crying into a white lace handkerchief while Jennifer was doing her best to console her.
Maggie stood when she saw me and hurried over to me. “Destiny, they say you were the last person to see him alive.”
“Yes, it seems I was.”
“The police said something about an argument?”
Jennifer pulled her mother back down onto the couch. “Mom, you know what he was like; he was always arguing with everyone.”
Maggie cried into her handkerchief some more. “If only you hadn’t left when you did, Destiny, he might still be alive today. Why did you have to argue with him?”
Peter directed me and Abbie to sit down.
Maggie was making me feel uncomfortable. “They say he was poisoned, so if I’d been there it might not have helped.”
“You could’ve called the paramedics. Who would’ve killed him? He was the loveliest man that ever lived.” Maggie glared at me.
I looked helplessly at Peter and he tried to come to my aid. “Maggie, you can’t say something like that. No one knows for sure what would’ve happened.”
Maggie ignored him and turned her body away from me.
I said, “If I could’ve done something to prevent what happened, I would’ve.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she cried into her handkerchief.
“It’s okay. It’s a hard time for everyone,” I said.
She turned toward me again.
“I’m just so sad I don’t know what to do.”
“I understand.”
“The funeral is on the day after tomorrow,” Jennifer informed me.
That answered my question as to whether I was having any input into the funeral.
I guess I wasn’t.
“You can sit in the front row with us at the service,” Maggie generously informed me.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “Is there anything I can do?”
Peter stepped forward and answered, “Everything is arranged already, thanks, Destiny. We’ve been at the funeral director’s all morning choosing the casket and the headstone.”
I looked down at my engagement ring, which I’d placed back on my finger in the car on the way there, wondering if I should offer it to his estate since we never married. But since no one had mentioned his will, I certainly didn’t want to be the first to do so. Don had often insinuated his family thought I was after his money.
“You want something to drink?” Peter asked.
Abbie and I declined a drink.
“Thank you for coming here today,” Jennifer said, swishing her shiny black hair about her shoulders.
“I wanted to see how you all were. Are you sure I can’t do anything?” I asked.
There was nothing.
Back at Abbie’s house the next morning, I checked my phone to see several missed calls from my assistant.
I called her back and found I’d won the Devereau job I’d quoted on weeks before. It was going to bring me a good sum of money. The Devereaus were out of town for the next few days, but they’d asked my assistant to call back then to make an appointment.
Early in the morning before Abbie started work, she drove me back to my apartment to collect my desktop computer and other office equipment. After that, I could work from anywhere. These days designers didn’t need an office, but I was starting to think I’d need a car now that I no longer had Don’s to borrow.
When we got to the apartment, I avoided looking at the area where Don had been lying and concentrated on shoving things into empty boxes.
“You get your work things and I’ll get all your clothes,” Abbie instructed.
“Thanks.” I sang loudly in my head to keep my mind from all the unanswered questions that swirled around it. How much pain had Don been in as he fell to the floor? Had he known who’d poisoned him? Had he thought it was I? What were his l
ast words?
We made several trips down to the car together. I made certain I wasn’t alone in the place. The memory of finding Don lying there dead on the floor still sent chills up my spine.
I grabbed the last box. “I’ll have to come back here and clean out the fridge and all that.”
“You’ve still got time, haven’t you?”
“The lease runs out at the end of the month. I’m so glad I didn’t sign for another year.” I passed the box to Abbie so I could lock the door.
When we got out of the elevator on the bottom floor, I noticed I had mail because it was hanging out of the box.
“I’ll just grab the mail.” There was a letter and a package.
“Put the mail on top of the box here,” Abbie said.
“Most likely bills or junk mail.”
Maggie and Jennifer had arranged for the funeral service to take place at the church Maggie attended. It seemed like there were hundreds of people there when I the car stopped. I was in the car with Maggie, Jennifer, and Peter. I was glad to have them with me because my family had refused to go, which was embarrassing for me. Their attitude was upsetting. Even if they didn’t like Don, they should’ve been there to support me.
When I walked in the door, I looked around to see who I knew. Abbie and Steve had said they were going to be there, but I couldn’t see them anywhere. Jacques was sitting in the back row looking at his cell phone. He didn’t see me so I walked on.
The detective who was in charge of the case was there with another officer in plain clothing. He gave a nod as I walked past with Don’s family.
When I sat down, I looked for Abbie and saw she’d just walked in with Steve. I waved at them. I would’ve preferred Abbie and Steve sit with me, but it wasn’t my place to invite them since I had nothing to do with arranging the funeral.
Maggie was dressed in black, which drained her pale face of any color. Her lipstick was pale and her almost non-existent eyebrows gave her a ghostly appearance. Jennifer was also in black, but with her shiny black hair and dark eyebrows and lashes, it perfectly suited her. Her red lipstick, on the other hand, made her look more like a witch than the members of my family ever had.
Peter, ever the organizer, pointed me to my allotted seat. I sat where he told me but that wasn’t good enough for Jennifer who had me move to the very end of the row on the other side of her two teenage children.
