Sapphire Nights

by Patricia Rice

  Francois took a swig of water, then spit it on the worn wooden floor. “You let the monsters live to kill and torment again, you pathetic, sanctimonious bag of hot air.”

  After the chauffeur’s burst of venom, Monty Kennedy lost it. “Francois! This is not the time to throw blame. They found your fingerprint on my mother’s gun, the one that killed Juan!”

  Walker understood the explosion. Until this moment, Xavier had seemed to convict Gump for murder, if only by innuendo. But Francois had hit the guilt button. Not spineless Xavier, but Geoffrey Kennedy had been the one to set the vultures to picking Hillvale’s bones. Monty’s father had let loose soulless fortune hunters to claim Hillvale, much as the gold diggers had destroyed the Spanish in a different era. And the Spanish had destroyed the natives before that.

  Walker gestured for Monty to sit back. “Tell us about Juan and Gump,” he said to Francois, offering him a stick of gum.

  The chauffeur ripped off the wrapper and chewed to calm himself. “They are murdering turds,” Francois finally said.

  Monty clenched his hands in an apparent attempt to keep from throttling his mother’s toady. Walker had to keep one eye on him while interviewing Francois.

  “You saw them kill Michael Walker?” he asked without inflection.

  Francois shrugged. “I saw nothing back then. The green-jacket turd told me he needed to change his tire, and I gave him my tools. He brought them back washed. He was wearing his ugly green jacket when he borrowed the tools but not after. He stank of sweat, but I thought nothing of it until I saw him get in a car with matching tires. Who keeps matching tires for a spare? Not in that little Corvette.”

  Walker’s gut twisted, but he pushed on. “Was anyone else with Gump who might have seen him change or not change his tire?”

  “Juan,” Francois spat. “The blackmailing little worm was everywhere, even back then. I had to give him the watch Mrs. Kennedy gave me for Christmas when he threatened to tell her I was letting kids wash the car and pocketing the extra she paid me to have it done.”

  Monty raised his eyebrows. “That was an expensive watch. You make that much on car washes?”

  Walker figured the blackmail was over more than car washes, but that line of questioning was beside the point. He gestured for Monty to quiet.

  “So Juan might have seen Gump using your tools for whatever purpose?” Walker asked.

  Francois shrugged. “I saw Juan burn a green coat in the incinerator. It looked muddy, and when I asked him about it, he told me Gump was good for a lot of cash for keeping his mouth shut. I figured I’d look out for chances, but the ugly coats did not come back much after that, not until recently. The snake shed his green skin, but he was still poisonous.”

  Walker kept his expression neutral, even realizing that Francois offered only circumstantial evidence that Gump had killed his father. But everyone involved was dead, adequately punished for their misdeeds.

  What mattered was how justice should be served now.

  “And recently?” Walker asked. “What made you take the gun? Were you frightened?”

  Francois gestured dismissively. “Me? Not me. It was Mrs. Kennedy. That pig Juan threatened to tell you about how the skeleton died. He said it would look very bad for her and her family. He wanted a pay increase.”

  Shit. Walker glanced at Monty, who ran his hand over his eyes at this hint that his father may have been involved in murder.

  “Your uncle learned from your experience with Juan’s blackmail,” Walker told the mayor, not opening the path of Kennedy involvement in the skeletal remains. “Presumably, your mother did too?”

  Monty nodded understanding. “Juan was all bluff.”

  “So how did Mrs. Kennedy deal with Juan?” Walker asked, as if they were sitting at a bar carrying on irrelevant bar chat.

  Francois rolled the water bottle between his hands. “She got the gun from the vault. She locked it there when the mister died, said she didn’t want her boys to have it.”

  “And then she shot Juan?” Walker asked, allowing a hint of incredulity through.

  Francois shook his shaggy head. “No! She is a lady. She would never do such a thing. She just threatened the swine and told him if he ever approached her in such a manner again, she would kill him rather than just fire him. She finally booted the little turd.”

  Monty raised his eyebrows. “That must have been the night she was in such a rage. She told us she’d fired the wretch, and Kurt argued. Juan was a rat, but he was an observant rat and good at his job.”

  Walker nodded and directed his question at Francois. “And then she told you to put the gun back in the vault?”

  Francois nodded. “She gave me the key and the gun. But Gump was there that night. I saw him having dinner, and I remembered what Juan said about him paying big cash. So when I had a chance, I told him that Juan had been blackmailing Mrs. Kennedy about the skeleton on the property. I didn’t know what he knew, but I took a chance, just to see if he’d pay to keep my mouth shut.”

  Xavier drained his bottle and set the empty on the table. “I remember that night. Kurt had to drive me home because Gump was staying at the lodge and had been drinking. Gump didn’t want to take me home as he usually did.”

  Walker nodded and turned back to Francois. “And then what happened?”

  “Gump gave me a hundred, thanked me for letting him know. He asked if he could borrow the gun before I put it back. He said he wanted to threaten Juan into leaving so he didn’t bother Mrs. Kennedy again. I thought maybe he was sweet on her.”

  Monty buried his head in his hands, and Walker sympathized. The mayor had to suck up the knowledge that his family was the reason that a monster had been unleashed on Hillvale. And the second time was his and Kurt’s fault. The two of them had sat there that night, discussing plans for a development with a murderer. That was how Monty’s father’s life had ended—with blood on his soul.

  “You didn’t think anything of it when Gump returned the gun at midnight and told you to take it to the vault?” Walker asked, sounding like a cynical cop.

  “It smelled of gunpowder,” Francois said in distaste. “I’d heard the shots earlier, but Bernardo said he’d heard a lion in the woods, and Gump had been shooting at it. I took his money and drove the gun to the vault and didn’t think anything more.”

  “Until morning, when you learned Juan was dead?” Walker asked in disgust.

  Francois chomped on his gum hard enough to crack molars and refused to speak.

  Chapter 34

  Morning, June 24

  * * *

  Sam delivered Cass’s third cup of tea and studied the small portrait of Xavier on the booth table, the one she’d rescued from the bunker. The café was filling, as if everyone waited for a verdict from the mayor’s office, although Sam couldn’t imagine what they expected. Gump was dead. Who would admit to murder once they had a suspect? But she worried about Walker. He needed his ghosts laid to rest.

  “The ghosts don’t go away,” Mariah said, as if reading her mind. She stopped by Cass’s booth to deliver one of Dinah’s sugary confections. “We either let them haunt us or set them free.”

  “I thought you set them free,” Sam said, not baiting her but genuinely curious.

  She wanted to see if she had a future with Walker, but if he had to return to LA, she had to decide how to shape her life. Somewhere along the line, she had quit thinking of returning to teaching. This town was very much part of her plans. She needed to know more about its inhabitants.

  “I can only free the lost spirits with no connection to the living. Walker’s father isn’t hanging around. He’s almost past the veil, which is why it’s hard to reach him. It’s Walker who needs to let go.” Mariah walked away to serve another customer.

  Cass ran her fingers over the portrait on the table. “Sometimes, it’s memories we need to let go. It’s hard to tell the difference. Have you let Jade and Wolf go yet?”

  Sam shook her head. “I won’t f
orget them. I am what they made me. But if their spirits exist, I don’t want them hanging over my head, worrying about me. They deserve to leave this mortal coil for whatever lies ahead.”

  “Yes, it’s easier to accept the memories once a loved one has passed,” Cass said. “I loved your father like the child I never had, but I’m hoping he’s in a better place. It’s the memories of people who still live, the missed chances, the paths not taken, those are harder.”

  Dinah shouted an order, and Sam left Cass to her thoughts. She wondered if there had once been anything between Cass and Xavier. It seemed hard to believe, but looking at the old portrait, she could tell Xavier had once been a handsome lawyer, and Cass had been a lonely widow.

  The news that the meeting in the mayor’s office had broken up spread like a ripple in a pond. Heads came up. Eyes turned toward the door. Even Lance was here, ignoring his meal, studying the mural, and listening.

  The paintings, the glowing crystals, and the conflicting energies were all part of the mystery surrounding Hillvale, a mystery Sam longed to unravel, along with finding her birth mother. But right now, she just hoped Walker had found the answers he needed.

  Xavier was the only one to enter the café. That seemed to be enough for the waiting Lucys. Dinah sent him to sit with Cass and took over his favorite omelet. Mariah brought him his coffee. Valdis slid into the seat with Cass. Chatter died except for the few Nulls who had no idea anything unusual was happening.

  “The Evil has one less soul in its possession,” Cass told Xavier in a quiet voice that wouldn’t normally have carried. The rare stillness gave it weight. “Sam brought you this.”

  She’d done what? Sam had to drift over to see what she’d been guilty of doing. Cass was simply pushing the portrait toward Xavier, who looked at in puzzlement.

  “Maybe it isn’t crap,” Lance murmured on the other side of her. “The red is gone, isn’t it?”

  Sam reached over his shoulder to fill his water glass. “Daisy said the eyes had once been red in the painting and now they’re not.” She didn’t know if Lance knew about Daisy’s shelter or if she should mention it. “Does the corruption eventually fade?”

  “Usually not,” Lance said sadly, still gazing at the mural. “Sometimes, we can only cover it up. I’d like to think corruption can be cured.”

  She wasn’t certain they were talking about paintings any longer. She cast a glance at the faded mural and hoped Elaine would be able to come up and look at it soon. “All we can do is hope to make the world a little better place with each day.”

  Lance snorted. “That’s what the peace and love hippies said, and now they’re as corrupt as the rest of the world. Maybe I should start believing it’s in the soil.”

  She patted his shoulder. “Or the soul.”

  In Cass’s booth, Xavier was tearfully studying the old portrait. She hoped they were good tears.

  He looked up as she refilled his water glass. “I found the heirs to Ghostly Grace’s property,” he told her, as if this had been the topic of discussion all along. “They want to rent it out.”

  “The ghost house, the one with the roses?” she asked, trying not to think this was a sign from above. She didn’t want to be a superstitious Lucy, but. . .

  “We told him to look,” Cass said with a hint of dryness. “Miracles do occasionally happen with a little work. Are you staying?”

  “I don’t know,” Sam said honestly. “I want to, I think. But I need more to occupy me than filling water glasses.”

  Valdis held up hers for filling. “There will be. Now that you’ve come home, the town has potential. Stay awhile and help us find it.”

  Sam looked out the plate glass window to her beautiful blooming flowers—and Walker crossing the parking lot. Long and lean and the strongest man she’d ever known, aside from Wolf. Walker had character. Could she give him up for potential?

  Mid-morning, June 24

  * * *

  Walker entered the café, hoping for a cup of coffee and a quick word with Sam before heading back down the mountain to talk to the sheriff. But the entire population swiveled to watch him enter. Were they expecting him to report confidential police information?

  Of course they were. Ignoring their expectant faces, he walked up to Sam and kissed her cheek. Before he could ask for it, Dinah handed him coffee in a thick paper cup and shooed him out.

  “Go, take Sam with you. They can all hold their curiosity like normal people.” She emphasized the last while glaring at the Lucys.

  “Have you taken up mind reading?” he asked her, before tugging Sam outside and around the corner where the entire town population wasn’t watching.

  Sam wrapped one arm around his waist, so as not to disturb his coffee, and kissed him, not questioning, not demanding, just holding him. She offered him a peace he’d never be able to find in the city. But he had so many obligations. . .

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He sipped his coffee and thought about it. “I think so, yeah. My father knew he was in a dangerous business. It wasn’t as risky as police work, but he didn’t have to come up here personally. He came anyway. We all make choices.”

  He could feel her nod against his shoulder, again accepting, not questioning. “Wolf didn’t have to be a pilot. Jade didn’t have to fly with him. But a bus could have hit them on the road.”

  They weren’t just talking about their parents. He had to let Davy and his guilt go as well. He was human. He couldn’t relive what was done.

  “We can only take so many precautions,” he agreed. “Hillvale has potential,” he added tentatively, sounding her out.

  She giggled and turned laughing sapphire eyes up to him. “Valdis just said the same.”

  “Damn, I hate sounding like a Lucy,” he muttered, watching her expression. “Are you agreeing with her?”

  “Oh, I’m agreeing with you, of course,” she said, airily waving her hand. “And me,” she admitted. “I kind of like it here. Even if it’s on the verge of ripping apart, the town grows on you.”

  “Like fungus, yeah. Monty is aware the town is dangerously divided. He wants to avoid any further violence by holding a referendum to see if they’re willing to hire full-time law enforcement. It’s not healthy to have to wait half an hour or more for the county to respond.” He let that sink in while he sipped his coffee.

  Her eyes widened, and he could swear he saw hope in them.

  “Xavier just told me Grace’s cottage is for rent, the one with all the flowers and roses,” she offered, definitely with hope in her voice.

  “The one with ghosts?” Walker thought about what they were discussing—life in a town that believed in ghosts.

  “Spirits,” she corrected with a half smile. “Or maybe I can prove there is some kind of physical energy in the vortex creating illusions, but I definitely want to work with the energy of the earthquake fault. Potential.”

  “I have a corporation to run,” he reminded her.

  “And I have a mother to find, plus Elaine Lee said she’d be up to look at Dinah’s mural, and then I want to experiment on crystals. . .”

  He grinned, understanding that this town was as important to her as his career was to him. “I can only do so much from a laptop. We’ll have to take this slow. You need to stretch your wings and find your path.”

  “What, you’re not going to keep me in a million-dollar mansion and give me a BMW?” She kissed his cheek and snuggled closer.

  “I have a BMW. And a mother. And a raft of employees. And a house I’m dreading returning to. It’s complicated.”

  She laughed. “I have Valdis and Cass and an entire town of ghosts. How complicated do you like it?”

  Walker lifted her up and kissed her thoroughly. “Samantha Moon complicated, that’s how I like it.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and showed him just how uncomplicated she could be.

  Crystal Magic Series

  Other books in this series —

 
Topaz Dreams

  Book 2 of the Crystal Magic Series

  An empathic woman searching for safety

  An architect yearning for dreams

  And the ghost house that endangers them both

  Teddy Devine-Baker arrives in her childhood home of Hillvale with a box of crystals and an attitude. Her empathic gift has ruined one relationship and most of her jewelry business, leaving her determined to learn more about a talent she's never properly respected. Unfortunately, her empathy fails to work on tall, dark, handsome Kurt Kennedy, the aloof architect who warmed her heart as a child.

  Although his family owns most of Hillvale, Kurt avoids the eccentrics inhabiting the ghost town. . . until irrepressible Teddy waltzes in and lays claim to a jinxed and unrentable house that belongs to him. Now he’s being dragged into the emotional whirlwind he’s spent years training himself not to feel. Kurt's plans for rebuilding the house -- not to mention his future -- will go up in flames if he heeds the intriguing redhead who claims to sense ghosts.

  But when they find an actual skeleton in the attic, the two must work together to uncover a killer . . . assuming Teddy can apply her empathy and break down Kurt's emotional barriers. If she can't, she may wind up with only the family ghost for company and a murderer on the loose.

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  Find more of Pat’s books on her website:

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  Sapphire Nights

  Patricia Rice

  Copyright © 2018 Patricia Rice

  Book View Cafe, March 27, 2018

  First Publication: 2018

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portion thereof, in any form.