Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  By the time he was fourteen, he was on a first name basis with most of the cops in town. By the time he was seventeen, he had decided that, seeing as he didn’t seem able to beat them, he might as well try and join them instead.

  Power, control, the opportunity to get a little action now and then, and the chance to drive real fast whenever he wanted – who could ask for anything more from a job?

  He hadn’t really changed all that much from when he was a kid. Although he knew he had somehow managed to convince most of the people who were close to him that he had. It was better that way. Simpler. Less worrying for the people he cared about. But the truth was, he had always liked trouble, and he still did. Which is why his obsession with Scout made perfect sense. She was trouble personified.

  He’d been just twenty-two that misty April evening when she had materialized at the side of the road. A tall, leggy hitchhiker, wreathed in fog, with a guitar and a backpack thrown over her shoulders. When he had stopped, she had thrown open the door, tossed her bags in the back without a word, and slid into the seat next to him. All with a fluid, graceful motion, that was mind-blowing in its sexiness.

  “Whew! Thanks!” she said, exhaling a deep, gusty breath as she turned to face him.

  And then she had smiled.

  It was no ordinary smile. It was a grin that started at her mouth in a spark of mischief and traveled over her face until it hit her eyes and ignited twin flares of such merry devilment that he knew, beyond any doubt, he’d just met his match. Her gaze swept the car’s interior, and then back to his face. “Oh, hey,” she breathed in tones of awe. “Nice car!”

  Nick felt as if choirs of angels had just launched into the Hallelujah Chorus. He could think of no better response than to return her grin with one of his own, put the car in gear and spin out – fast. She let out a whoop of delight and bummed a cigarette from his pack on the dash without even asking. They tore off into the growing dark in companionable silence until his brain dredged up something coherent to say to her.

  “So, uh, where are you going?” he asked without much originality.

  Mischief twinkled in her eyes. “Well, I was on my way home from school, but I’m not actually in a hurry to get there, or anything.”

  “You’re local?” Nick sent a brief prayer of thanks to whatever divine agency had sent her to him. “That’s good.”

  He thought fast. Oberon Community College was only a mile or so beyond where he had picked her up. She had to be a student there. And the guitar – “You a music major?”

  “No, not really. I’ll probably major in art.”

  “Oh, a sophomore, huh?”

  “Yeah. How’d you know?” She seemed mildly disappointed.

  “Well, you’d have already picked your major if you were a junior, and the Community College is only two years anyway, so...”

  “Oh! Oh, yeah. Right.” She flashed him another blinding smile. “Next year, I’ll probably transfer to State. If I’m still around.”

  “Oh? You thinking of leaving town?”

  “No. I don’t know. Maybe. I get restless sometimes.”

  “I know what you mean. Hey, maybe you know my cousin. He’s at Community, too.”

  “I don’t think so,” she answered, a little too fast. And then she hesitated. “I don’t really know that many people there. What’s your cousin’s name?”

  “Joey Greco.”

  She inhaled on some smoke and began to cough. It was several seconds before she could answer. “Joey? You’re – You – Joey Greco is your cousin?” she gasped at last, and then started coughing again.

  “Yeah. Are you okay? D’you know him?”

  “I, uh... yeah. I, I’ve heard of him.” She giggled suddenly. “I think maybe we have some friends in common.”

  What could she possibly have heard about Joey to make her giggle with such wicked, breathless delight? His cousin’s reputation was almost the polar opposite of his own – good tempered, well-behaved, popular with the right kind of people, not given to erratic behavior, steady and hardworking. Nick shot her a quick, sideways glance. She was staring straight ahead, seemingly lost in thought, a small, blissful smile glimmering across her face.

  He felt his heart sink.

  Despite the two-year age difference and a lifetime of having the younger man held up as a role model, Nick had always counted Joey as one of his best friends, the closest thing he would ever have to a brother. He wondered how jealousy would change that?

  “He’s got a younger sister, doesn’t he?” the girl asked next with wide-eyed candor. “Your cousin, I mean. Over at that girl’s high school. Our Lady of the Angels, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. My cousin, Lucy.”

  “I have a... an ex-step-cousin, sort of, who goes there. I think she might know her.”

  “Oh yeah? So your cousin knows my cousin, huh? Small world.”

  “Yes, isn’t it? Absolutely unbelievable,” she said as she giggled again.

  She told him her name was Jen. Short for Jennifer, he supposed. It was a popular name. A generic, non-specific name. His cousin, when asked, could think of at least half a dozen girls called Jennifer, Jenny or Jen from school. Although none, Nick was relieved to note, in whom he seemed to have more than a casual interest. The fact that she hadn’t mentioned a last name didn’t even occur to him until much later. Even then, it didn’t strike him as unusual. He hadn’t exactly told her his, either.

  Afterwards, he had actually resisted asking her for it. He kind of liked the aura of mystery that clung to her, especially since he half-sensed that she cultivated it to intrigue him.

  Looking back, Nick could see that he had been a damned idiot not to guess the truth that very first night. He had been completely taken in by the ridiculous stories she told him. The nameless friends and relations who just happened to have mentioned his cousins to her. The vague plans for the future. The pathologically over-protective parents who wouldn’t let her date, or even receive phone calls. The theft of her car, which had necessitated her hitching a ride home.

  On some level, he knew he simply hadn’t wanted to see the truth. His instincts must have been screaming warnings, but he’d suppressed every one.

  He was so busy thanking his lucky stars he’d found her, he didn’t even spare a thought to wonder why, when he’d never seen her before, he was suddenly running into her everywhere he went. After the third time in one week that he’d run across her hitching a ride somewhere, he’d stopped to lecture her about the dangers. He was in his squad car the time. His partner, Dave, listened to the exchange in disbelief.

  “Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get yourself into doing this?” Nick asked as she smiled at him from the curb, totally unrepentant, her arms crossed casually just below her breasts. He tried not to pay too much attention to the subtle sway of her hips as she rocked slowly from foot to foot.

  “Yeah. But uh, you know, how else am I supposed to meet guys?” Her eyes, half hidden beneath long lashes, gleamed wickedly.

  Cute look. But he was being serious. And he didn’t much like the idea of her trying to meet guys, anyway. He frowned. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Jen. And trust me, the kind of guy you’re likely to run into that way could be very bad news.”

  “I guess you’re right.” She bit her lip, looking suddenly troubled. “I met you that way, didn’t I?”

  “Well, but...” he broke off, somewhat startled himself. “That was different. You just got lucky.”

  “Hmm.” The corner of her mouth kicked up. She narrowed her eyes. “You know, Nick, I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line.”

  “Is it?”

  “Could be,” she answered softly as her smile grew slowly wider. Her voice sent warm tremors running all through him. “Are you feeling lucky, Nick?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m feeling very lucky. C’mon, hop in. I’ll give you a ride.”

  “Uhh... I don’t know if that’s such a good idea today.�
�� She glanced again at Dave, and frowned.

  “Jesus. Man, are you out of your fuckin’ mind?” Dave hissed. “Look at her, Nick. The girl is jailbait.”

  “The hell I am.” Her head reared back and she planted her fists on her hips, and all Nick could think about for a few moments was the way her crop-top hugged her midriff as she stood on the sidewalk, taking deep, angry breaths.

  “Oh yeah?” Dave leaned across him to challenge her. “So, tell me kid, just how old—”

  “Okay! Enough,” Nick interrupted, feeling suddenly irritated and a whole lot less lucky as well. “C’mon, Jen, get in the car. Where were you going, anyway?”

  She hesitated for almost a minute, and then smiled again, slow and sensuous, looking deep into his eyes, as if they were the only two people in the whole world. “I wasn’t actually going anywhere,” she answered, cocking her head to one side. “I was just kind of, you know, hoping I’d run into you again.”

  He returned the smile. “Well, we could actually arrange to meet each other somewhere, you know. I’m thinking it might a whole lot be safer for you.” What he was really thinking was that it might be a whole lot more private, as well.

  She lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “ ’kay.”

  “So. What are you doing tonight?”

  “Nothing I can’t get out of,” she said with a smile.

  “How’s the bowling alley sound? About seven, seven thirty?”

  “You want to go bowling?” she asked, sounding about equal parts surprised and doubtful.

  “No.” It was his turn to smile, and then smile wider as he watched awareness flood her face with color.

  “Oh. Okay, uh, sure.”

  “Good. I’ll see you then. Sure you don’t want a ride now?”

  She sneaked another look at Dave and rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure. I’ll see you later, Nick.”

  The sun was low in the sky when Nick had pulled into the parking lot of the Buena Vista Bar and Grill. The current owners had only had it for about five years, but the restaurant itself had been there for decades. Its location made it a favorite with generations of surfers and beach goers. He’d been coming here since he was a kid, although back then the place was known as the Shake Shack, and sold mostly health food – date shakes, wheat grass, homemade yogurt and granola, and fresh juices.

  Now, the place was a glorified diner. He got himself a sandwich and coffee and a fresh pack of cigarettes –marveling, as he did every time he started smoking again, at how much the prices had gone up since he’d quit. He took his purchases and sat outside on the bluff. He loved the wild beauty of the coast, the sagey, resinous fragrance of the chaparral. He’d come out here to find solace in all the most painful times of his life.

  After he’d found out about Scout, and again when his marriage was breaking up, he had practically lived here. Most of what little sleep he got during those periods was in the front seat of his car.

  God, she was something else, though. Even half-unconscious with bruises on her face, she had damn near taken his breath away. It had always been the little things that had gotten to him, anyway. The purr in her voice. The flash of fire in her eyes. Or that smile. Beginning at one corner of her mouth and sliding, ever so slowly across her face.

  Even the way she moved, like some sort of wildcat, nothing tame or domesticated about her. A part of him had been hoping she’d lost that. That she’d somehow outgrown the ability to drive him crazy. But she was still as beautiful as ever. And even though she hadn’t smiled at him once, and the flashes he’d seen, deep within her hazel eyes, had reminded him more of ice this time than fire, she’d still made his head spin.

  Of course, there were differences. She’d filled out a little bit since he’d seen her last. She most definitely was not a kid anymore. But the new fullness of her breasts and hips didn’t exactly do anything to diminish her appeal.

  She looked better than ever, damn it. And the effort he’d had to make this afternoon to keep himself from finding out exactly how much she’d changed had been almost enough to slay him. Sitting across from her, as she’d lain there on that couch, he had barely been able to contain the urge to jump her.

  But whether he wanted to kiss her or kill her, he just didn’t know.

  Things sure had been simpler twenty years ago. Back then, he’d known exactly what he wanted to do with her.

  Given her age and apparent willingness, he supposed it was a damn good thing she’d left town when she had. But try telling that to his body, which still remembered every detail of that last afternoon they’d had together.

  He was supposed to have been working; instead, he’d talked Dave into dropping him off at his apartment. She was waiting for him when he got there, wearing jeans and a loose, flannel shirt so soft and thin that he could feel the heat of her skin right through it.

  His need for her had pulsed in him, like a drug through his veins, until even the tips of his fingers were on fire with it. Until just the buttery smoothness of the buttons as they slipped, one by one, from their holes for him, was excruciatingly erotic.

  By the time Dave had come back to tell him to drop whatever it was he was doing and get his ass in the car, she hadn’t been wearing anything at all.

  Nick groaned and dropped his head into his hands. It was ridiculous be feeling this way after all this time. But oh God, he’d wanted her. And he had been so close to having her. He could see her still in his mind’s eye – the same image that had tormented him for twenty years – lovely and vulnerable and naked. Looking up at him with such heat in her eyes, it had taken every bit of willpower he had possessed to pull himself away from her.

  He hadn’t expected her to still be there when he got back, shaken and deathly cold, fresh from his very first homicide case; and of course, she wasn’t. But he hadn’t been worried. He could be patient for a while longer. She was worth waiting for. Hadn’t he been telling himself that for weeks?

  He’d never dreamed then that he’d still be waiting, still be wanting her, twenty years later. And nothing had prepared him for the shock and the anger he’d experienced the next time he saw her.

  When he learned her real name. And her age.

  And then, while he was still reeling from the first blow, she’d callously dropped the other shoe on his head. Telling him, with utter, cool detachment how, while he’d been waiting – and waiting – for her, she’d been out getting it on with her sister’s boyfriend.

  Did he say anger?

  Oh, no. No. Anger didn’t come close to describing the murderous rage that had filled him then.

  Glenn.

  Not too likely he’d forget about him in a hurry. That same son-of-a-bitch who was there today. Her attorney, for Christ’s sake. The guy who’d had dinner with her Monday night. And whose battered, black Montero – he realized it now, having seen it there again today – had been parked outside her house on Monday morning, as well. The implications of that hit him with the force of a fist in his gut, and he groaned aloud.

  Dinner, Jen? At ten in the morning? I don’t think so.

  He’d be damned if she wasn’t already up to her same old tricks. And damned if she still didn’t lie better, more often, and way more easily than anyone he’d ever known. He felt an unwilling rush of admiration. The woman was amazing, all right. Trouble with a capital T.

  She probably hadn’t figured on his recognizing him, after all this time. Most likely she didn’t even know they’d met. But oh yeah, they’d met. He’d made it a point, twenty years ago, to find out just who the fuck this Glenn person was.

  And then later, after Scout had left town, when the same son-of-a-bitch had come sniffing around after Lucy, it had been Nick’s enormous pleasure to scare the crap out of the kid. Picking him up late one night – just him and Dave and Joey. Taking him for a drive and a friendly little chat out in one of the more isolated of the nearby canyons. Not that they’d threatened him – oh, no sir. Nothing like that – they’d just explained, in real e
xplicit detail, about some of the more unpleasant things that could be made to happen to anyone who came within spitting distance of Lucy – or any of her friends either, for that matter, ever again.

  Glenn had gotten the message, all right. But just to be sure, Nick had kept his eye on him anyway over the next couple of years.

  It had helped some. Not enough, but some. Hell, what else did he have to do, anyway, while he was waiting?

  Those first few years, he’d never had any doubt she’d be back. They could keep her away while she was a minor, sure. But after that, she’d come back to him. When she turned eighteen, maybe. Or, if not then, maybe when she got out of college?

  He had tried to talk to Lucy about her, but his cousin would launch into a string of invectives whenever he’d mentioned her name.

  Did she know where she was, he would ask. Or had she maybe heard anything about how she was doing? When she was coming back? How he could reach her?

  “What I know about Scout Patterson,” Lucy had snarled, “Is she’s a bitch and a liar. The kind of liar who wouldn’t know the truth if it jumped up and bit her on the ass. The girl would lie to the Pope. To Jesus Christ himself. She could lie under hypnosis – do you have any idea how completely impossible that is for a normal person to do?”

  “Lucy. Shit. I just want to know if you’d heard anything. Or, you know, if you maybe knew how somebody could get in touch with her?”

  “Why? You planning on arresting her or something?”

  “What? No, of course not.”

  “Oh. Too bad. Nick, trust me on this, you don’t want to get anywhere near that girl. I don’t know where she is, I don’t know how to reach her, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you, anyway. Not in a million years. Not for a million dollars. Not for nothin’, cuz!”

  She’d been gone for several years before Nick began to wonder if maybe – just maybe – she might not be coming back, after all. And by then, when he finally tried to track her down, he found the trail had grown too cold for even a cop to trace.

  In desperation, he even tried asking her stepmother about her. He remembered the pain and the deep wariness that had filled the older woman’s eyes. “Where’s Scout? Someplace far away,” was all she’d tell him. “Someplace safe.”