Book Read Free

Midnight Burning

Page 8

by Karissa Laurel


  “No,” he said. I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t offer to expound.

  I drummed my fingernails on the table and sipped coffee in the awkward silence until Val arrived and brought in a breath of congeniality. He rushed to where I sat at the table and threw his arms around me. He drew me out of my seat and into a crushing hug. “Thank God you’re all right,” he said.

  I pushed at him until he eased up. “What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

  Val exhaled in a whoosh of breath. “It’s Mani’s place. Somebody’s demolished it. The door was ripped from the hinges, and what was left of his stuff was shredded. Your things were torn up too.”

  Dizziness washed over me. I swayed, and Val caught me. “Why—why would anyone do that?”

  “To give you a warning,” Thorin said. “Or ‘threat’ may be a better word. I told you that coming here was going to stir up trouble.”

  Thorin’s smug accusations sobered me. I straightened and pushed Val away. “I’ve done nothing to threaten anyone. Who would want to hurt me?”

  “Who have you been talking to?” Thorin asked.

  “Just the police.”

  “And tonight, when you were with Skyla?”

  “You were with Skyla?” Val asked. “She’s halfcocked about Mani’s murder. She’s going to get you mixed up in some bad stuff if you don’t watch out.”

  “It looks as though she’s already mixed up,” Thorin said. “Who else have you been talking to?”

  “I’ve been talking to Nunya,” I said. “As in Nunya Business.” Their stony expressions didn’t waver. I blew out an exasperated breath. “Skyla’s trying to find an old contact. His name was Adam something.”

  “Adam Skoll?” Thorin growled the name.

  “Yes.” The people closest to Mani knew more than they let on, to me or the police. I intended to change that. “We talked to some old roughneck at this bar outside of town. He said he thought Adam ran off to a fishing crew with Harold Hati.”

  A livid tint of fuchsia pooled into Val’s cheeks. A vein throbbed in his forehead. “What do you know about Harold Hati?”

  “Just what I read in the police report.” I didn’t mention Skyla’s story about Adam Skoll’s fight in the bar’s parking lot and the similarity between his victim and Mani. If they didn’t already know, then the story was Skyla’s to tell.

  Val leaned forward and met me eye to eye. “This is as far as you go, Solina. No more Nancy Drew for you.”

  “Nancy Drew?” I said. “I think of myself more as Stephanie Plum.” Judging by the look on his face, Val had never heard of her. “How did you find out about Mani’s apartment anyway?”

  “What?” Val was thrown by my diversion tactic, as I had planned.

  “Why were you at Mani’s apartment?”

  “I was coming to check on you,” he said. “Last I knew, you had a debilitating headache.”

  “Why didn’t you call first?”

  Val leaned back. A look of hurt streaked across his face. “Are you accusing me of something?”

  “No,” I said and sank into the kitchen chair. The coffee steam enticed me, so I picked up my mug and sipped. “I appreciate your concern, Val, but I can take care of myself.”

  “Oh yeah? How are you going to do that with no place to stay?”

  Damn. Hadn’t thought of that. Nisha Hemmings’s face flashed before my eyes. I wondered what she thought about the attack, if she even knew about it yet. Maybe she was working and had missed the whole thing. “I’ll rent a room… or I’ll call Skyla and stay with her.”

  “No,” Val said, stepping close to loom over me. “You’re coming with me.”

  I rolled off the chair, ready to run if necessary. “Aren’t you supposed to club me over the head first before you drag me to your cave?”

  Thorin had the gall to snicker, but his face went flat when Val shot him a dirty look.

  “This isn’t up for discussion,” Val said.

  “Oh,” I said. “You are so right about that.”

  Val and I glared at each other, neither of us willing to back down. Fear incited my stubborn streak, and I loathed admitting the need for help. Val was probably frightened for me. He had lost his best friend. Watching that best friend’s sister wade through the same dangerous waters likely inspired his protective nature, but I learned a thing or two from having a male for a twin. Give a guy reason to think he has control and kiss your independence goodbye. “I can’t go home with you,” I said, trying for diplomacy. “You have roommates. They should have a say.”

  “I don’t give a damn what they think.”

  “If I’m in so much danger, then why do you want to bring it to your doorstep?”

  Thorin watched our exchange like an umpire at a tennis match. He wore an amused smirk, and that pissed me off even more.

  “I’d be happy for the asshole who trashed Mani’s place to show his face. Then I’d know exactly where to put my fist.” Val took my wrist and dragged me closer to him. “Don’t fight me on this, please, Solina.”

  “Look, Conan,” I said. “Go beat your chest somewhere else. I’m going to call the police, and then I’m going to call Skyla. If she doesn’t have room for me, I’ll find a hotel. Now let go of me.” I yanked my arm, and Val dropped his grip.

  I turned and started for the door leading to the stairway, but a huge and impenetrable figure stepped in front of me. Thorin. What the hell? Why is he getting involved? I stopped and folded my arms over my chest. I tapped a toe, implying impatience.

  “The danger that has targeted you and your brother is no inane threat, Miss Mundy. It is fierce and brutal and very real, which I’m not sure you fully appreciate.”

  I opened my mouth to disagree, but Thorin held up a hand to silence me. “If you care for Skyla, I must ask you not to involve her in this matter any further.”

  “He’s right,” Val said. “You just asked why I would have you stay with me when it would bring danger to my doorstep. But you would bring that same trouble to Skyla without a care for her safety?”

  “Miss Mundy, the way I see it, you have two choices. You will either go with Val, or you will go home, to North Carolina, and never come back.”

  There were so many things wrong with Thorin’s statement that I didn’t know where to begin. “What’s behind door number three?”

  “There is no door number three.”

  “I’m not going home. I can promise you that.”

  “Fine, then it’s my place,” Val said, not bothering to hide the gloat in his voice.

  I wanted to whine like when I was a kid—You can’t make me, you can’t make me—but unless I wanted to fight the mountain of a man barring the doorway in front of me, then it seemed as though Thorin and Val could very well make me do what they wanted. Sure, I knew some dirty tricks, but they worked best on unassuming drunk barflies, or twin brothers who never really meant to harm me in the first place. Something about the way Thorin held himself, the attitude he exuded—my survival instincts insisted this was a man who didn’t succumb to dirty tricks. This was a man who knew how to fight.

  “Are you going to play nice?” Thorin asked.

  Fine. I would concede to letting them have their way, lull them into a false sense of male superiority, and then return to doing things my way at my first chance. I would not, however, agree to play nice. “Kiss my ass.”

  “That sounds like defeat to me,” Val said.

  Val reached out for me, tentatively this time, the way one reaches out to a skittish dog. My bravado was quickly fading, but the dread was still there, simmering in my gut. I leaned in and let Val draw me into a hug. His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, “Nothing’s going to happen to you on my watch.” I shivered—not so much from Val’s touch but from the dark and unfathomable glare of Aleksander Thorin.

  “I think you should go back to North Carolina before we all end up regretting this,” Thorin said.

  “I can handle myself,” I said. “I’m no
t a child.”

  “Then I hope you have the sense not to act like one.”

  Going downstairs to trash his storage room and undo all my hard work would make for satisfying retaliation, but it would only serve to prove his point. So, instead, I scowled and harrumphed. “A child is not allowed to think for herself. I make my own choices, and I’ll live with the consequences if I make the wrong ones.”

  “The wrong ones might mean another death, Miss Mundy. And it’s not only your life you’re putting at stake.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, but Thorin clamped his mouth his shut and looked away, refusing to answer. I huffed again. Tell me I’m in danger, but don’t give me any details—how is that supposed to help anyone? “Now who’s being childish?” I muttered.

  Val put an arm around my shoulder and guided me toward the door. “Let’s go, Solina. It’s late, and I’m tired.”

  Thorin stepped forward and raised a hand to stop us. “After you go through your things and see what needs replacing, you can take what you need from the store, if we have it.”

  My mouth fell open. “That’s very generous of you, but I couldn’t—”

  Thorin interrupted me. “Take it as payment for your work in the stockroom.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  Val and I left Thorin standing in the kitchen. Val didn’t let go of me until we reached the 4-Runner. “I’m not joking around,” he said. “You should know I’m willing to throw you in my Jeep, if necessary, to keep you from running.”

  “I won’t run. I’m tired—I want to go to sleep.” And I’m more than a little scared. My ire had fizzled out. A wise woman would welcome the protection of a brawny dude and his two roommates, who were also nothing to sneeze at. Men who made a living conquering the wilds of Alaska probably laughed at the idea of a mundane intruder. Humph. Mundane. Only if I’m lucky.

  Perhaps I should have questioned both Val’s willingness to help me and Thorin’s unexpected involvement. But a general theory about their motives had already formed in my mind. Val may have legitimately cared enough for me to put himself in harm’s way on my behalf, but there was more to it. He and Thorin knew a lot more than they wanted to admit, and keeping me close and safe must have profited them in some way beyond the simple warm fuzzies they got from aiding a damsel in distress.

  They knew something about Mani’s murder and who was after me now. They knew something, and by God, I intended to know it, too. Keep your friends close, and your closed-mouth, secretive, and interfering friends even closer.

  Chapter Eleven

  In the morning I called to check on Nisha. She had seen my door, or the lack thereof, when she came home after bartending. By then the police had already come, put up the crime scene tape, and left. Call waiting beeped in as I listened to Nisha talk about the neighborhood chatter. Caller ID showed an unfamiliar number, so I let the call go to voicemail.

  “So, no one heard anything—saw anything useful?” I said.

  “No,” Nisha said. “Not really. People are freaked out after what happened to Mani. From what I can tell from the gossip, Mr. Lutz—that’s the neighbor across the hall—heard a commotion. He was the one who called the police, but he was afraid to open the door and see what was going on.” Nisha’s voice thinned to a whisper when she said, “It’s starting to seriously freak me out, too. My sister wants me to move out and come live with her. I think I’m going to take her up on her offer.”

  “It might be a good idea, but I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s obvious this has to do with Mani and me.”

  “Where are you going to stay, now? Aren’t you scared?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I am scared, but I’m pretty determined to stay until I’ve finished my business. Mani’s friend, Val Wotan, he’s letting me stay at his place until I can find something else.”

  “Oh, Val, I’ve met him. He’s nice.” Nisha’s tone implied she wasn’t merely talking about his personality. “Are you two…?” She waited for me to finish her sentence.

  Since I didn’t know the answer myself, I ignored her bait. “Hey, Nisha, random question for you.”

  “Okay,” she said, sounding uncertain.

  “You ever hear of Adam Skoll or Harold Hati?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

  “Their names came up in passing, and since Siqiniq is a small town, I thought you might know them.”

  “Do you think they know something about—”

  “No.” I cut her off, guessing the destination of her train of thought. Nisha needed to stay clean and innocent of this whole affair and not endanger herself by playing Watson to my totally inept Sherlock. “I don’t think anything. I just want to talk to anyone who might have talked to my brother before he died. Harold Hati worked for Aleksander Thorin, and he’s the only one I haven’t been able to get in touch with.”

  “Take it as a sign. It’s probably best if you leave it to the police.”

  “Where does your sister live?” I asked, switching, I hoped, to a neutral topic.

  “In Anchorage.”

  “That far? What about your job?”

  Nisha snorted loud enough to carry over the phone. “I’m a waitress. Like I can’t find a hundred jobs just like it.”

  After we ended the call, I dialed voicemail and discovered Detective Vanderleigh had left me a message. He wanted to talk about the break-in. I called him, and we agreed to meet at Mani’s apartment in an hour. Val shuffled into the living room as I hung up. He plopped onto the sofa next to me, still half asleep. His hair was rumpled, his eyes still drowsy, and – Lord help me – he wore boxers and nothing else. Something inside me jumped and stood at attention.

  “Any grand plans for today?” Val asked.

  “The detective wants to meet with me at Mani’s apartment in a little bit.”

  “Mind if I tag along?”

  “You don’t have to work?”

  “I’ve got the day off.” Val yawned, stretched, and then scratched his stomach, and by stomach I mean rock-hard, six-pack abs. He knew what he was doing, coming out here like this, all warm and frowzy and half naked. “I’m hungry.” He grinned and batted his lashes at me. Cinnamon-colored lashes that framed a stunning pair of sapphire eyes. “Go in the kitchen and cook me some breakfast, woman.”

  “I was going to say the same thing to you.”

  “But you’re Little Miss Betty Crocker. The kitchen is your natural domain.”

  “I’m going to pretend you did not just say that.”

  Val grinned again and shifted, stretching out, long legs dangling over the couch’s low arm. He put his head in my lap. Unable to resist, I twined my fingers through the soft waves of his hair. Val’s eyes rolled back in his head, and I could have sworn he purred. My heart did a funny little dance. Aw crap, I thought. I’m in so much trouble. “I’m on sabbatical,” I said, “which means the kitchen is closed.”

  “But I’m going to waste away.”

  I circled my fingers around one of Val’s well-formed biceps. “I think you’ve got plenty to spare.”

  Val flexed his arm and grinned when I exhaled an appreciative sigh. I pinched his shoulder. “Show-off.”

  He snatched my fingers before I pulled away. He tugged my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “Are you going to hang out with me today?”

  “Well…”

  “Please?” Val’s blue eyes penetrated into mine. He might get most anything he wanted, looking at me that way.

  “I’m going to have to clean out what’s left of Mani’s place. The month is over, and the landlord has a tenant ready to move in. Plus, I’ve only got a few days left before I have to catch my flight back home. I’m running out of time.”

  “I’ll help you,” he said, sitting up and moving away. I almost pulled him back into my lap. But if I did, I would accomplish nothing on my to-do list, and Val was not on my to-do list. Not yet, anyway.

  “You will?” I asked.

  “If you pay me.”<
br />
  I narrowed my eyes. “With what?”

  “You know what I want.”

  My heart skipped a beat, but a grin tugged at the corner of Val’s lips. I sighed in mock defeat and said, “Okay, pancakes. It’s a deal.”

  Detective Vanderleigh glared at Val when we him met outside of Mani’s apartment. “Who’s this?” Vanderleigh asked.

  “He’s my attorney,” I said, playing it deadpan.

  Vanderleigh narrowed his eyes at Val, and his nostrils flared. “You work for Aleksander Thorin. I’ve spoken to you before.”

  Val stepped forward and offered his hand. Vanderleigh shook it. “Val Wotan. You’re Detective Vanderleigh and, yes, we’ve spoken before.”

  “Where were you last night, Miss Mundy? Mr. Wotan, same question for you.”

  “I was at some dive on the outskirts of town,” I said. “I’m not sure it has a name. I was there most of the evening with Skyla… I forget her last name.” I turned to Val for help.

  “Ramirez,” he said. “Skyla Ramirez.”

  “You didn’t come here at any point in the evening?” Vanderleigh asked.

  “No,” I said and gave him the sequence of events of my last twenty-four hours, minus my assault on the roughneck at the bar.

  “And you, Mr. Wotan?”

  Val shrugged. “I worked at Thorin’s store all day. I left there and went to work out at the gym. Then I picked up some take-out. I came here to check on Solina, found the apartment like this, and called you guys.”

  “You didn’t wait for an officer to arrive?”

  Val pulled a face, obviously offended by the implication he might have had something to do with this. “I wanted to find Solina. I was worried about her.”

  The detective asked a few more procedural questions before he pulled off the crime scene tape and ushered us inside. “Our office has already processed the scene for evidence. Before I give you clearance to do anything else, I’d appreciate it if you’d look around and make sure nothing is missing.”

  “There wasn’t much left,” I said.

 

‹ Prev