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

by P. G. Forte

  “Too many is right up there. Along with, a bunch, a whole lot, and billions. I guess some people either don’t want to take the time to count, or don’t get the concept of making an estimate. But you know, it all depends. What’re we talking about, anyway? Broken glass? Disposable lighters? Fishing line?”

  The corner of his mouth kicked up as he answered. “Uh, well, in this particular case it’d be condoms.”

  “Oh.” She thought about that for a moment, attempting to come up with a rational sounding amount, but her mind remained stubbornly blank. “Gee, I don’t know,” she confessed, and found herself grinning as she asked him, “What would you consider to be too many condoms?” He blinked in surprise, and she couldn’t help adding, “I mean in your personal experience?”

  A wicked light gleamed for just an instant in his eyes. “Oh, you want to get personal? Actually... well, hell, I don’t know either.” He paused long enough to fold his arms across his chest and narrow his eyes thoughtfully. “I guess I never really considered the problem of having too many condoms,” he drawled provocatively. “In fact... the only times I ever really had a problem come up... was if I had too few.”

  “Yes. Well. I’d imagine... that is... it sounds like you might have a pretty big problem. Does it come up often?” Marsha surprised herself by asking. She shut her mouth as quickly as possible, and squinted sightlessly at the calculator. Blindly, she punched at the numbers while the part of her that wasn’t completely embarrassed yet wondered what in the hell was wrong with the part of her that kept opening its mouth?

  “Yeah, actually, it does,” she heard him reply. Something in his voice made her glance across at him. He was leaning back in his chair, flashing the same wolf’s smile she’d seen this morning. “And it’s real hard, too. Any ideas on how I should handle it?”

  He had to be kidding. “What’s that, the tally? Why don’t you just put down two dozen,” she answered as coolly as possible as she resumed working on her cards.

  A moment later however, she was stunned to hear herself murmur, “You know, Sam, some problems just aren’t meant to be handled. They respond much better to other forms of stimulation. But I’m sure you have a lot of experience in such matters. I bet you make out okay.”

  “Oh, I do a lot better than that,” he answered just as carelessly, his voice pitched as low as her own had been. “I’d say I make out exceptionally well.”

  “Is that so?” She frowned slightly as she adjusted her cards so that she was now working her way down the right-side column. “And do you uh... like to do it yourself?”

  “Well, with a problem of this magnitude, I’d certainly prefer to work it with someone else.”

  She choked back a laugh. “Magnitude, huh? Well, I gotta say, I’ve always been a fan of joint efforts myself. Especially big ones.”

  “Really? Does that mean you’d be willing to give me a hand, if my, uh, problem were to come up again? Maybe sometime this weekend?” His voice had deepened in register as it dropped in tone, until it was now the basest of whispers. Like wind over gravel. Scratchy and dark enough to set everything inside her to vibrating. She felt her breasts tingle. Her nipples grew hard, and she knew they had gone way beyond far enough already.

  This weekend?

  He was talking as if it were something that could actually happen. If there was ever a place to call a halt to this game they were playing, it was right here. But she just couldn’t seem to stop herself from rising, once more, to his bait.

  She sighed. “You know, Sam, if your problem is as big as you say it is, I’m not convinced a hand would be adequate, to get the job done right.”

  “Well, doing it right is very important,” he agreed too smoothly. “What method do you suggest we use?”

  “Well, that’s a very difficult question to answer.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing. She’d somehow finished with the cards in front of her and she put them aside and reached for another stack before continuing, in as conversational a tone as she could manage, “I’d have to explore the matter a little more thoroughly. But I think, given enough input, we could come up with something... satisfying.”

  “Input, huh?” He chuckled. “Aww, now that’s a stretch, doll. I shouldn’t let you have it. But okay, I’ll bite.” He lowered his voice again, seductively, “Are you saying you want my input?”

  “Mmm,” she murmured noncommittally, and took a minute to make certain the new cards were lined up correctly, so she wouldn’t accidentally miscount something – a distinct possibility, if they kept this up much longer. “I’m just saying it might be helpful, is all,” she continued finally. “I mean, you know, to have it.”

  “Yes. I’m sure it would be. Very helpful,” he purred, his voice sounding smooth as silk now. His arm passed within centimeters of her chest, just barely grazing her arm, as he reached across her to grab a new pile of cards for himself. She actually felt her eyes glaze over as he leaned in close and whispered, “And very enjoyable. And I believe I’ve already mentioned several times today how ready I am to help you with any of your needs. As long as you’d be... open to it?”

  She sucked in air and raised her head to meet the unholy gleam in his eyes. She would almost swear he could sense the needs and desires that were twisting to life within her. That he could somehow see the images that had insinuated themselves into her mind. He wasn’t playing fair. But she had years of matching wits with not one, but two immature male minds, albeit in very different circumstances. She could take him out. No problem. This boy is toast.

  She cleared her throat and whispered right back “Well then, as far as that goes, I guess it would all depend on whether I could fit you into my schedule, wouldn’t it? I mean, it would probably require a certain amount of manipulation. I’d have to check to see where I’d want to put you. I have several openings in mind, after all. But my time this weekend is very, very... tight.”

  And then she did laugh at the confounded expression on his face and the sudden blankness in his eyes. An impatient sound from further down the table reminded her, rather forcefully, that they were not alone. “Hey, you two.” Scout scowled playfully at them. “Is this a private party you’re having? Or do you want to let the rest of us in on the joke?”

  “Uhh... no. It’s um...” Marsha found herself suddenly speechless. She blushed furiously. What in God’s name had possessed her to say such outrageous things? And to an absolute stranger, no less! They’d actually been... flirting? Hadn’t they? Oh, Lord. Maybe not. Maybe she’d just been acting like more of an idiot than usual. She’d been associating with teenagers for so many years now…maybe she’d finally begun to act like one? Puerile, vulgar, crass and so totally clueless it was beyond believing.

  Well, he started it, a pathetic little voice in her head complained, while her inner adult groaned, Oh, good one, Marsha. That’s sooo mature, in response.

  “Sorry, I think it would lose too much in the translation,” she heard Sam answer smoothly. He glanced briefly at Marsha, and smiled ever so slightly, before continuing, “I’m afraid you really had to have been there.”

  “Uh-huh.” Scout flashed a puzzled look her way, but Marsha, who by now knew better than to open her mouth – not ever again – merely shook her head.

  “Well, okay, fine, then. Be that way,” Scout said, shaking her head and chuckling to herself as she went back to work.

  Marsha stared at the blond, wood-grain Formica of the tabletop in front of her. It was just molecules. She was just molecules. In a more perfect world she would be able to dissolve right into the damn thing and disappear. But nooo.

  “What’s the matter?” Sam’s voice set the blood to thrumming in her ears again. “Cat got your tongue? Or did you really think I’d let you quit while you were ahead?”

  What? She turned to stare at him. He couldn’t possibly mean to continue with this? A cool, enigmatic expression flickered in the dark gray of his eyes, and she had absolutely no idea what he was thinking.

  “Hm
m. Okay, how about we both just concentrate on what we’re supposed to be doing here?” He paused for an instant before adding a final, “For now.”

  “Er, yeah,” she answered meekly. “I think that might be a good idea.”

  “For now,” he repeated firmly. “But don’t get too comfortable.”

  Ha! Marsha thought bitterly, as if that was going to be a problem any time soon!

  * * *

  Nick watched as the gurney bearing Paige’s body was loaded into the back of the ambulance, and another wave of cold washed through him. He could almost hear her nagging him to get busy, get some answers, find her killer. And, if this had been anybody else’s murder, he knew he’d be hearing her, for real. She’d be all up in his face, badgering, pestering, asking all the questions he didn’t want to admit he had no answers for.

  That was Paige. That was what she did. And she was damn good at it--had been damn good at it – as well as being annoying as shit. He was gonna miss her a lot.

  He couldn’t forget the last time they’d spoken, either. That little scene had been replaying itself almost endlessly, all damn day, in spite of his best efforts to block it out. Christ, she’d been so pissed at him then. But what else could he have done? It had come down to the two of them, and of course he’d had to choose Scout. There had never been any doubt on that score. Not ever. Still, he didn’t like that they’d parted on such bad terms. And now he’d never be able to make it up to her.

  What bothered him the most, though, was the thought that maybe if they had still been friends, he’d have known what she’d been working on lately. Which would have maybe put him one step closer to figuring out why someone would want to kill her. Or maybe... maybe she wouldn’t even have gotten killed at all?

  So that’s it then? You just gonna stand around all day getting weepy?

  The voice in his head might not really be Paige’s. But it was every bit as annoying. He looked around. Actually, the investigation was going as well as could be expected. He could have done with a few more people, just one or two who really knew what they were doing. But he’d had to take what he could get. Oberon didn’t offer as much excitement as most guys who became cops seemed to want. And there wasn’t much opportunity for advancement here, either. So there was a better than average turnover rate among cops in town. Which had never really bothered Nick before, except when he’d have to break in a new partner. He hated that. He didn’t really like having to adapt to anyone else’s idiosyncrasies. Or to explain his own. He was generally happiest when he worked alone.

  Great. So I did you a favor. Now, how about you get busy and do one for me?

  Ah, shut up, Nick told the voice – whoever or whatever it was. He might like working alone, but he wasn’t conceited enough to think he could do it all. Paige, you’d have done better keeping your mouth shut about Boyle. It didn’t matter what kind of kinky shit she was into in her spare time, it never stopped her from doing her job. And she was one helluva good investigator. You don’t like how slow this is going? Well, who do you think is to blame for that, anyway?

  Spare me all the good-old-day nostalgia, Greco. Just get your ass back to work.

  The lights on top of the ambulance began to revolve – just the lights, no siren. What was the rush, after all? And as it slowly maneuvered through the crowded parking lot, Nick watched it go, wishing there were some way to call it back. To re-wind the whole damn day, take it all back somehow, change everything that had gone so terribly wrong, and make it turn out right.

  Funny, but I still don’t see you moving, bud.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m going,” Nick muttered to himself. “Quit pushing.”

  “You talking to yourself now, Greco?” A female voice, ripe with amusement broke into his thoughts. “Jeez. See what happens when I leave town for a while? The whole place goes to pot.”

  “Boyle?” Nick swung around in surprise. “Darcy! Shit, where the hell’d you spring from?”

  Her brown eyes were as lively as he’d remembered them, but her hair was shorter – cropped at chin length now, and allowed to fall freely in a mass of golden curls, whereas before she’d worn it pulled tight in a short no-nonsense ponytail – at least during working hours. She looked good, he thought, inspecting his former partner with interest. Older, and a little more nervy, a little more worn than he remembered, but good. Real good. And, best of all, she was still alive.

  “Get the hell over here!” he growled, pulling her into a big hug. “What’s the matter with you? You can’t call and let anyone know you’re coming?”

  “It was a last minute decision. I had to come up here on a job,” Darcy said, pulling away from him after a moment. “I’m chasing a ‘deadbeat dad’ for a client – he says he’s broke, she says it’s cause he’s up here at one of the spas every few weeks, throwing his money around. So what’s goin’ on with you? New uniform?” She tugged at the material of his shirt.

  “Yeah. Wouldn’t you figure this is how I’d spend my day off?”

  “Wouldn’t exactly figure you for a day off at all, pard. And spending it at the Coastal Cleanup, no less. Gettin’ all civic-minded now, are you?”

  “Yeah, well... my kid was working on some Girl Scout merit badge, so...” He shrugged. “I don’t think this was quite what they had in mind, though.”

  “No, I’d say not. Man, that’s tough. She see much?”

  “Hell, yes.” Nick shook his head at the thought. “Who’d you think found it?”

  “Oh, no way! You?” Darcy shoulders shook with laughter. “Shit, Greco. You always did have the devil’s own luck. How in the hell did you manage that one?”

  “Well, I’ll tell you, it wasn’t easy. I had to have my dog’s help to do it.”

  “And since when do you have a dog?” Darcy stared at him in amazement. “Shit, next you’ll be telling me you’re a homeowner. You’re not doing the whole white picket fence number now, are you, pard?”

  “No, not exactly.” Nick smiled as he thought about the place he called home these days. Scout’s house. He hadn’t thought all that much about some of the changes he’d made in the last few months. And he hadn’t thought at all about how those changes might look to someone who had only known him while Scout was gone.

  When she left, all those years ago, a big part of him had gone AWOL right along with her, although he was the only one who’d seemed to notice that. And now... he guessed she wasn’t the only one who’d finally been able to come home.

  “So? How’d the dog come into it?” Darcy prompted.

  Nick grinned. “Well, picture this. There we were on the beach, right? And, we got the two dogs – cause, you know, I got my cousin’s kid with me too. And we’re walking along, haven’t really gotten started yet, when the dogs see the gulls, right? Damned if the dumb mutts don’t just take off down the beach straight for ‘em. Like they might ever actually catch one. The gulls take to the air, of course, but they’re flapping around, like they obviously don’t want to leave whatever it is they’ve found. And the dogs are jumping all over the place, trying to catch them, and then sniffing around on the ground. And barking. And as we get closer, we can see what they’re all fighting over and jumping on and sniffing at—” he broke off, his throat suddenly closing up on him.

  Well, it would be funny, wouldn’t it, a part of him was insisting. Come on now, it urged him, you’ve seen worse. Laugh it off! But another part of him was just plain remembering how cold it was. How very, very horribly cold.

  “Nick?” Darcy placed a hand on his arm. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” He pulled himself together. “Sure. So, uh... yeah, it was one helluva crime scene. You shoulda been there.”

  “Wait, you’re kidding, right? The dogs? And the birds?” She stared at him, wide-eyed. “My, God, Nick. It would’ve had to be a total mess after that. You’re never gonna find anything to – oh, man! Shit. That’s just too damn funny.”

  “Yeah. You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Nick shook his head. “Godda
mn dogs.”

  “So... uh, doesn’t the Coastal Commission offer a cash prize for the most unusual thing found or something? Shit, Nick you’re a shoe-in this year. Where’s your check?”

  “Ah, you know.” He shrugged. “They’ve got all these silly rules like you need to bring what you find back up to the parking lot by noon in order to enter it for the judging. And wouldn’t you know it, those damn guys from the ME’s office just had to take their sweet time. So basically I was robbed, Boyle. Probably some kid who found a tie-dyed wedding gown and matching skates beat me outta the prize. I sure coulda used that money, too.”

  Darcy kicked at the gravel with the toe of her shoe. A faint smile played upon her lips. “Well, that’s a damn shame.”

  “Yep.” Nick stared into the distance and tried to shake off the mood of cold anger that still threatened to overtake him. Wasn’t this just what he’d been wishing for? Someone with Darcy’s skills and experience to give him a hand? So how come he wasn’t feeling more relieved?

  For once, the annoying voice that had been plaguing him all day didn’t have an answer for him.

  “So, Boyle, how’d you like to give me a hand with things?” he asked at last, slowly. “It’d be unofficial, of course. But we’re pretty short-handed. And most of the guys I do have working with me are pretty clueless.”

  She was quiet for several minutes. “Gee, I don’t know, Nick.”

  “Hey, c’mon, where’s your sense of loyalty? You’d be doing me a favor. Plus, you know... I could make sure you’re stuck here in town anyway, until this is over, if you don’t.”

  She shot him a look of surprise. “Oh, well. If you’re gonna ask so nicely. I guess... why not? So... uh, who bought it, anyway?” she said after a moment. “Anyone we know?”

  “Yeah,” Nick sighed. “Yeah, it sure was.” He broke off, frowning, as another thought hit him. “And actually... you know, I’m wondering right now whether the killer might not turn out to have been a friend of yours, as well. Did anyone know you were going to be here today, Darce?”