by C. D. Hersh
“I’m putting my future in the hands of a rock?” Rhys asked. “Doesn’t seem smart.”
Her doubt skyrocketed. What had Eli gotten them into?
“Yer not planning on mimic shifting and killing someone, are ye?”
“No.”
“A thread ’twill tie an honest man better than a chain ’twill a rogue. Ye’ll nae be needing tae worry. If ye need tae do some evil deed and dinna want tae put yer true self in harm’s way, ye use yer alter ego.”
She chanced another peek at Rhys in the mirror. Apprehension creased his forehead.
“Dinna worry aboot it. I’ll be telling ye everything ye need tae know in a wee bit.”
“Sooner’d be better than later, old man.”
“Impatient, aren’t we?” She gave Eli a worried glance.
“Dinna fash yerself aboot it. ’Tis difficult tae put an old head on a young shoulder. He’ll learn soon enough. ’Twill all work out. Ye’ll see.”
She wasn’t as sure as him. They rode the rest of the way to Alexi’s house in silence, concern swirling in the car so strong she nearly choked.
Chapter 7
As soon as the passengers got out of the car, Harry’s feet hit the pavement, rushing to Rhys’ side. “I just heard. I’m sorry. We’re all going to miss her.”
“W-what?” Rhys stammered and looked at Delaney.
Following his gaze Harry saw her. “Ms. Ramsey. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” Looking to Rhys, he asked, “How did it happen?”
Eli gave Rhys a little push. “Why don’t we go inside? ’Tis more private.”
Rhys grabbed the arm of the pretty girl next to him and guided her toward the house. Eli and Delaney flanked Harry and led him to the door.
“Word gets around fast,” Delaney said. “How did you find out?”
“I called the hospital to see how she was, and they told me she’d died. About gave me a heart attack. I thought of Alexi as if she were my own daughter.” He motioned toward Rhys. “Who’s the girl?”
“Delaney’s daughter,” Eli said.
“Were they friends?”
“No,” Delaney said at the same time Eli said, “Yes.”
Harry’s cop radar screamed. Something wasn’t right.
“They weren’t merely friends, they were best friends,” Eli quickly said.
“Humm. I didn’t know Alexi had a close female friend.”
Delaney shot a scowl at Eli, then her facial creases smoothed. A tight smile, mirroring the one Harry had seen on suspects trying to put him off guard, curved her mouth. The answer, and the look, smelled rotten. He hated rotten, especially if she was giving it to him.
Just another female screwing with me. Like all the rest. But then what had he expected? She was FBI and warned him she had secrets. Might as well get the whole story before he started making judgment calls. Maybe, just this once, he’d be wrong.
The room smelled of fear and most of it was coming from Temple and Delaney’s daughter.
“Nice of you to come, Captain, but you shouldn’t have,” Rhys said.
Delaney’s daughter’s hand inched toward Rhys’ and he batted it away with his fingers as if it were an annoying gnat, but not before Harry caught the motion. Had Temple been screwing around with this woman behind Alexi’s back and was afraid he’d been caught? Or was Alexi’s friend seeking consolation?
“Nice, hell. Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away. You know how I feel-felt about Alexi.” He gave Rhys a scowl meant to relay his displeasure with this new woman.
Rhys shifted on the balls of his feet, moving away from her.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Rhys?” Harry asked.
“Uh, sure. Captain Williams. This is-”
“My daughter, Lila,” Delaney interjected. “Alexi’s dear friend.”
“What she said,” Rhys mumbled.
Harry cut a disbelieving snort short. “You never mentioned you had a daughter, Ramsey.”
“You never mentioned Alexi was like your daughter, Williams. Guess we’re even.”
She had him there. They’d known each other less than a day. Why did he think she should have spilled her guts to him? Maybe because you’ve got the hots for her, his heart said. Stupid reason, replied his head. He took a second to pitch the warring devils off his shoulders. Ramsey or her daughter was not the reason he’d come. Alexi mattered, or rather Rhys, now that she had died.
“Did you get to see her before she passed?” he asked Rhys.
“No. She was gone.” His shoulders slumped. “I tried to resuscitate her, but couldn’t. Then the nurses tried the paddles.” His voice caught, snagging with emotion.
Stepping forward, he grasped Rhys’ arm. “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay. I know how much you cared for her. You’re here. Waiting for us. Says a lot. I know it means a lot to her, or would if she could see it.”
“She can. She’s here.”
Rhys gave him a deer-in-the-headlights stare.
“In spirit,” he added.
Rhys nodded.
“Do you know when the services will be? Everyone will want to know.”
“She’ll be cremated.”
“No viewing? I can’t say good-bye?” He tried to keep the distress out of his voice. Cremation sucked. There was no closure staring at an urn. A man needed closure.
Eyebrows angling down at the outside corners, Rhys’ eyes filled with pain. “I’m sorry, Captain. We have to do it this way.”
A minute passed in awkward silence and finally Harry spoke, his voice choked. “Can I say something at the funeral?”
Rhys looked at Eli and Delaney, as if he wanted them to answer the question, which made absolutely no sense. Why isn’t he answering me? The pair stared back at Rhys in silence.
“Of course you can,” Lila said. “I know she’d want you to.”
Clearing his throat, Harry swiped at his nose. “Guess I should be going. Let me know when the arrangements are made so I can tell everyone. You’ll call me if you need anything?”
“Sure,” Rhys said. “I’m going to be staying here for a while.”
“Makes you feel closer to her?”
“Something like that. I need a few days.”
“Take what you need. What about you, Ramsey? You coming back to ride herd on Riley?”
“Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on her,” Delaney said.
“Make it quick. I don’t want to deal with that woman.” He started to leave, and she followed him to the door, laying her hand on his arm. The touch set his blood racing. Glancing at her, he saw her eyes spark. She felt it, too. How could he react to her this way when sorrow was twisting his insides into sailor’s knots? The reaction wasn’t decent.
“I’m sorry this is happening to you,” she said, with genuine concern in her voice.
“I’m sorry it happened to Alexi.” He inclined his head toward Rhys. “Keep an eye on him. The guy was crazy about her. I’ve already lost one of my favorite detectives. I don’t want to lose the other one to grief.”
“He’ll be okay. I promise.”
How could she keep that promise? “I hope so,” was all he could say.
Delaney leaned her forehead against the door as she closed it behind Harry. His distress at Alexi’s death tore at her chest. Innocent people were being hurt, and she hated it. Maybe they should have included him in the plan.
“’Twas the right thing tae do, lassie,” Eli said softly at her shoulder.
“Then why does it make me feel bad?”
“Because ye have a hirt and ’tis nae hardened.”
“Guess I need to work on that.”
He patted her arm. �
��I dinna think sae. I like ye as ye are.”
Moving from the door, she exhaled a shaky sigh. Right now, she didn’t like herself. But there was nothing to do but get on with the plan. “What are we going to do since the captain has seen Lila?”
“I vote I keep her mimic shift,” Alexi said.
“I vote no,” Rhys replied. “Did you see the scowl he threw at me when you tried to grab my hand?”
“No,” she said. “I was too busy making sure I didn’t shift right in front of him.”
“He had me pegged as a Casanova rebounding before you were even cold.”
“Are you?” Delaney asked. It would fit her suspicions of his charismatic personality. “A love the one you’re with kind of guy?”
“I’m with Alexi.”
His eyes shone so fiercely her barbed comment shamed her. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. Alexi, please shift. I’m having trouble keeping you separated from my daughter.”
Alexi complied.
“Do you normally have trouble holding a mimic?” Delaney asked Alexi. “I’d have thought your skills were further developed.”
“The shock of seeing him here made it difficult.”
“Exactly the reason not to use her,” Rhys said. “You need to stay hidden. And safe.”
“I agree with Rhys.” The less Delaney saw her daughter staring at her, the better it would be. She couldn’t deal with all the additional pain flooding her soul. This was hard enough already. She turned to Eli for confirmation.
He stroked his hairy chin, his gaze swinging between Alexi and Delaney. She held her breath. What was he thinking? Was he peering into her heart again?
“It doesn’t make sense to let her continue to mimic Lila,” she insisted. “He’ll ask questions, and when we’re not all on the same page, like earlier, he’ll suspect something is wrong.”
Eli said nothing, but continued to stroke his beard thoughtfully.
She held her breath. Waiting.
“I dinna agree,” he finally said. “Ye should row with the oar that’s nearest at hand.”
“What?” she and Rhys said in unison.
Alexi grinned. “I know what he’s saying.”
Rhys and Delaney’s gaze swung around toward Alexi.
“Use what you’ve got.” Her form melted into Lila as she swept her arm down the length of her body. “She’s a known quantity to Delaney and to Eli. If Captain Williams questions them about her, they’ll have answers. No need to compound the situation with additional lies, beyond the ‘best friends’ one Eli had concocted. Rhys not having any answers about her will be a good thing. Right, Eli?”
“No!” Delaney said a bit louder than she intended. All eyes focused on her. “What if Lila returns?”
“Are ye expecting her?” Eli asked.
“No. I mean maybe.”
“Alexi keeps Lila’s mimic,” Eli declared. “She’ll stay Lila, except at night since she canna hold her mimic when she’s asleep. Besides, ’twould be unfitting for the closest friend o’ the deceased tae not be at the funeral. If yer captain has suspicions, such unseemly behavior would surely set them ablazing.”
Alexi paled at the mention of attending her own funeral. Delaney felt the blood drain from her face. Eli was not making this any easier.
“But,” he continued, “after the funeral Lila will havetae go home. Ye can use some other mimic if ye need tae go aboot.”
Delaney breathed a bit easier. All she had to do was get through the next few days.
Chapter 8
“It’s done,” Sylvia said as she accepted the wineglass from Falhman. “The last Jordan is dead.”
Falhman raised his drink in the air. “Excellent. I suppose you have proof?”
Proof? What was he expecting? Her head on a platter? She placed her glass on the coffee table, the fragile stem clattering against the highly polished glass surface. “I supposed my word would be enough proof.”
He took a sip of his wine then ran his index finger over the rim of the glass, causing a high-pitched squeal to emanate from the crystal. “I supposed you knew better.”
“Forgive me if I’ve disappointed you, Falhman,” she said as she scrambled to put herself in his good graces. “I’m used to running my own show, and it never occurred to me you might question me or my loyalty.”
“I don’t. Yet.” He set his drink down and walked behind her, trailing his fingertips along her shoulders.
His touch made her want to shudder. She willed her muscles still. If he thought her afraid that wouldn’t be good, and if he thought her physically attracted to him, she figured he’d do what he wanted with her. Amazingly, she felt those emotions-both of which would land her in big trouble.
He moved his index finger up her neck, the edge of his nail prickling her skin like a poison ivy itch. “You came highly recommended to me, Sylvia, but I’m not a very trusting man. You have to prove yourself. While it’s commendable you wanted to kill Alexi, there is the little matter of your distant Jordan connection. All your history makes me wonder if you might not have changed your mind at the last minute.” His fingers stopped, and his hand pressed on her shoulders. “You can see my point, can’t you?”
Sylvia’s heart lurched. He was too close for comfort. Way too close. “I don’t have a connection with the Jordans,” she said, inching forward.
He yanked her against the chair cushions, fingers biting into her shoulders. “Don’t lie to me, Sylvia. It’s unbecoming and useless. I know everything about you. And Baron. And your son.”
Wrenching herself out of his grip, she twisted toward him. Uncertain of his game, she decided not to play. Not if he was threatening Owen. “Baron’s dead,” she said flatly. “What happened between us died a long time ago. As for my son-”
“Baron’s son,” Falhman said.
“My son,” she repeated emphatically, “is not up for discussion.”
Falhman circled around her, keeping an arm’s length away. “You’re wrong, my dear,” he said smoothly. “He’s very much up for discussion. In fact, if you don’t bring me proof of Alexi Jordan’s demise, I might have to offer my own proof concerning your son.”
“What do you mean?”
“Word is you were searching for Baron to get a Turning Stone ring for your son. If you don’t bring me what I want, Owen Riley, AKA Baron Jordan, the second, won’t need a ring.”
She gasped, the sound echoing in the cavernous penthouse living room. “He’s not a Turning Stone member, Falhman. He never was, nor did he ever want to be. Leave him alone.”
“Too late.” He snapped his fingers and one of the side entrances to the living room opened. Owen fell through the doorway, stumbling to keep upright with his hands tied behind him. One of Falhman’s goons grabbed his shoulder, and he wrenched out of his grip, glaring at the man.
Heart pounding, she rushed to his side. The sweet wine taste in her mouth turned sour. What was Falhman planning? “Are you all right?”
“Of course he’s all right,” Falhman assured her. “You don’t think I’d violate my Hippocratic Oath, do you?”
“Your goons might,” she said as she hugged Owen.
“I’m okay, Mom. Are you?” Owen asked.
The henchmen pushed her away from her son. Owen wheeled around and stepped between the man and her.
“Get your filthy hands off my mother.”
“I’m fine, Owen. Back down.” She started untying the ropes binding him, but with her cold, trembling fingers the knots seemed to take forever to untie. “What happened?”
“These guys came to my apartment, flashing police badges, and said you’d been injured on your way to my place. After I’d opened my door, they grabbed me. Next thing I remember, I’m here and they’re telling me to cooperate because your life depends on
it.” He slipped his hands out of the ropes and rubbed his wrists. “What are you mixed up in?”
“Turning Stone business. Nothing you have to worry about.”
“What did you bring me into, Mom?” Owen jerked his thumb toward Falhman. “Who is he?”
