Occult and Battery

by Lena Gregory

  “Hmm . . . I hadn’t thought of that.” Part of Cass really wanted to be able to excuse his presence, but another side of her—the side that still bore the scars of his betrayal—didn’t believe a word he said. “But what difference did it make if the ring was there or not? If it was, they could have just asked Joan Wellington for it.”

  “Yeah, but what if the police come and seal off the room? Then they wouldn’t be able to get in to look for the ring.”

  Stephanie had a point, and yet, doubt still assailed Cass.

  A soft buzzing sound intruded on her thoughts an instant before the lights flickered once and came on.

  “Thank goodness, now maybe they can warm this place up a bit.” Bee shivered and pulled his coat tighter around him.

  “What you really need to figure out is if Donald had any reason to kill Conrad.” Stephanie reached down to pet Beast when he nudged her leg.

  “Did you not meet the man?” Bee scoffed. “Talk about obnoxious. Opening his mouth was reason enough.” He stood and pulled the remaining covers back, then turned off the overhead lights, slid into bed, and tucked the blankets tightly under his chin.

  Stephanie aimed the flashlight at his eyes. “Hey. What do you think you’re doing? I told you that’s my bed.”

  “Watch where you’re shining that light.”

  “Get up.”

  “No way, sugar. You share with Cass. I’m already comfortable.”

  Stephanie growled but let it go, went around to the other side of the bed, and climbed in next to Cass.

  The barest hint of grey light peeked between the curtains. It would be morning soon. One glance at her cell phone told Cass she wouldn’t be able to contact the police tonight. No bars. That meant she couldn’t contact Luke either. If anyone would know how to handle this whole mess, Luke would. As a detective on the mainland, and her sort-of boyfriend—well, boyfriend might be too strong a word—his advice would be invaluable. Too bad she had no hope of reaching him. She plugged the charger into the phone and left it on the nightstand.

  The small beam of light disappeared when Stephanie clicked off the flashlight.

  Cass tossed and turned as best she could, trying to find a comfortable position while crammed into the full-size bed with Stephanie. Useless, since the discomfort keeping her awake had nothing to do with the bed, the pillow, the cold, or Bee’s incessant snoring.

  7

  The peal of sirens screamed through the morning, ripping Cass from a fitful half sleep. “Ugh.” She rolled over, grabbed the pillow from the other side of the bed, and pulled it over her head.

  “Hey.” Stephanie yanked the pillow back from her. “No wonder Bee didn’t want to sleep with you.”

  “Sorry.” Sirens pierced the silence again. Cass popped her head up. “You think someone reached the police?”

  Stephanie threw her pillow at Bee, hitting him square in the face. “Get up. I think the police are coming. And tonight, you can sleep with Cass.”

  He slit one eye open. “What time is it?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “And what do you mean, tonight?” He threw the covers back and sat up. “If the police can get in, that means we can get out.” He slid his shoes on, stood, and raked his fingers through his bleached blond hair. “And let me tell you, I am so outta here.”

  Beast scrambled to his feet, dancing in a circle between the beds.

  “He has to go out.” Smoothing her hair, Cass stood, then grabbed the leash from the dresser.

  “Here.” Bee held his hand out palm up. “I’ll take him. Not like I’m in any big rush to talk to the police.”

  Bee’s past had left him somewhat wary of law enforcement, so Cass handed over the leash. “Thanks.”

  Beast danced around in circles while Bee tried to clip the leash onto his collar. “Will you stay still already?”

  “Sit.”

  Beast ignored Cass’s command/request/whatever.

  Bee paused for a minute to stare at her, brow lifted in a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look.

  She rolled her eyes and turned to open the door.

  Beast shot through the gap before she had it fully open, dragging Bee behind him. Even with his two-handed grip on the leash, Bee couldn’t slow the fleeing animal.

  Ugh . . .

  Stephanie burst out laughing.

  “Not funny,” Bee called over his shoulder as he tried to stop Beast before they reached the back stairway. They rounded the corner at the end of the hall, and Beast launched himself down the stairs.

  Bee’s shoulder hit the wall, and he ricocheted off. A tremendous racket—filled with bangs and curses—followed.

  Ah jeez. Resisting the urge to go back to bed and pull the covers over her head, Cass ran down the remainder of the hallway. She skidded to a stop, with Stephanie breathing down her neck, when she reached the top of the stairs.

  Bee lay in a heap at the bottom, leash tangled around him, Beast licking his face.

  “Are you all right?” Cass yelled down.

  “That is a rhetorical question, right?” Bee pushed up to sit, lifted one foot, and started untangling the leash.

  Cass and Stephanie pounded down the stairs. When they reached him, they each grabbed one arm and helped haul him to his feet.

  Once he was standing, Bee smoothed his jacket, adjusted his scarf, and tousled his hair.

  “Are you hurt?” Grabbing the leash, Cass helped him disentangle himself.

  Beast dropped his tongue out of the side of his mouth, panting frantically.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Stephanie handed Bee one of his shoes.

  He took it and bent to put it back on.

  With a quick look over Bee’s back at Cass, Stephanie caught her lip between her teeth to keep from laughing. She couldn’t stop the laughter from reaching her eyes, though.

  Cass bit the inside of her cheek.

  “Don’t think I don’t know what the two of you are doing,” Bee said. If looks could kill . . .

  Laughter blurted out, and Cass slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m . . .” She sucked in a breath and tried to control herself. “Sorry.”

  “No you’re not.” He pointed at her. “You. Better. Get. This. Dog. Trained!”

  She nodded, her head shaking like a bobblehead, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Stephanie hiccupped as she tried to contain her own outburst.

  A smile tugged at the corners of Bee’s mouth. “I think it was the shoe bouncing down that made all that noise.”

  “Really?” Laughter erupted. This time Cass made no attempt to restrain it. “Was it the shoe cursing up a storm too?”

  “Ha-ha.” Finally Bee joined their laughter. “Just schedule some kind of obedience classes for this animal. Before he hurts somebody.”

  Beast tipped his head innocently to the side, his eyes wide.

  “Yeah right.” Taking the leash from her once more, Bee eyed the dog warily. “That innocent routine doesn’t work with me, buddy.”

  “Are you sure you still want to walk him? I can do it.” Cass said.

  He waved her off and headed for the back of the house. “Even a tumble down the stairs is better than a conversation with the police.”

  The peal of the door chimes, followed by pounding and shouting from the front door, forced her attention from Bee. Reluctantly, she turned away and headed for the front of the house, with Stephanie at her side.

  Jim Wellington reached to pull the door open just as Cass and Stephanie rounded the corner and entered the foyer.

  Detective Taylor Lawrence—Tank to his friends—strode through the door before Jim could even step back. “We got a call about a death.” He held up his badge and moved past Jim, scanning the foyer as he moved. When his gaze landed on Stephanie, his shoulders dropped. “Are you all righ
t?”

  She nodded as she crossed the foyer. The instant she reached him, he pulled her into his arms, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his massive chest.

  Enfolding her in his arms, he kissed the top of her head. “You have no idea what my insides have been like since I got that call. Then I couldn’t get to you. I had to get Emmett to plow in front of me all the way up here.” He pinned Cass with a glare. “She’s not allowed to hang out with you anymore.”

  “Hey. What’d I do?”

  “You’re a magnet for trouble.”

  Cass pushed out her bottom lip in her best pout and peered at him from beneath her lashes.

  He opened one arm and gestured for her to come to him then pulled her into his embrace with Stephanie. “Are you okay?”

  Cass shrugged, comforted by his presence. “I think so. Just shaken.”

  Stepping back and releasing both women, Tank turned to Jim. “What happened?”

  Cass cringed. Tank tended to be a little overprotective of his wife, and his temper showed in the shortness of his tone.

  Jim’s chest inflated before he answered.

  When Tank was angry, he often elicited that defensive reaction in men who didn’t know him. Named for the vehicle he most resembled, Tank bore little resemblance to the teddy bear he actually was.

  “My sister found my brother . . .” Jim pointed up through the ceiling. “In the cupola.”

  “Has anyone touched anything?”

  Jim shrugged and glanced at Cass. “I didn’t, but I wasn’t the last one up there.”

  Cass’s heart raced as Tank turned slowly toward her. “Do you want to tell me what you were doing up there?”

  “Well . . .” She scratched her head and looked to Stephanie, pleading with her eyes for help. When none was forthcoming, she gave her a dirty look and turned her attention back to Tank. “I . . . uh . . .” Why had it made so much more sense to go up there in the heat of the moment? Should she mention she’d moved the shoe and tell him about the secret compartment? “The thing is . . .”

  “Spill it.”

  She blew out a breath, flipping her bangs up off her forehead. He was a detective; he’d figure it out. “I thought I should go up and see what happened. I was concerned it would affect my reputation and hurt my business.” She kept her gaze firmly on Tank, afraid to search Jim’s expression and see how he felt about her somewhat selfish motives.

  “All right.” Tank rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and turned at the sound of tires crunching on the driveway. He moved to open the door, and more police officers filed in. An ambulance pulled in behind them, and Cass closed her coat tighter against the chill from the open door.

  With Tank issuing orders, and members of the crime scene unit scrambling up the stairs and toward the back of the house, the scene became somewhat chaotic.

  The attendants pulled a stretcher from the back of the ambulance and headed toward the house but left it on the front porch when they entered and pushed the door shut behind them. That thing would be freezing when they put Conrad on it.

  Oh. Right. Cass cringed. When Jim led Tank up the stairs, she started to follow.

  Tank stopped and turned to face her, his expression softening. “You don’t have to come up, Cass. I’ll be down to ask questions in a little bit. Why don’t you and Stephanie go sit and have a cup of tea or something?”

  She nodded, in no hurry to go back up to the cupola, but made no move to leave. Instead, she watched them ascend the stairs, then stood staring at the empty stairway.

  “Come on, Cass.” Stephanie laid a gentle hand on her arm and steered her away from the stairs and toward the dining room. “Tank’s right. There’s nothing you can do up there.”

  “I guess.” The memory of Conrad’s body would haunt her no matter what, but the thought that he might have been murdered by someone they’d been trapped in a house with all night chilled her to the bone.

  Stephanie pushed the dining room door open then stepped aside for Cass to enter first, rubbing her arm in a gesture of support as she passed.

  Cass braced herself and tried to shrug off the feeling of unease creeping in. As she entered the almost-empty room, Joan Wellington stood, knocking her chair to the floor behind her.

  The police officer who’d been sitting across from her stood as well. He lifted his hands, palms toward her in a gesture of surrender, obviously trying to calm the irritated woman. Shaking her head, she backed away from him, tripping on the overturned chair. The officer made a grab for her, but she shook him off, regained her footing, and started across the room.

  Tears streamed in a steady line down her cheeks. If her puffy, bloodshot eyes were any indication, they weren’t the first tears she’d shed through the night.

  Cass reached toward her. “Are you all right, Joan?”

  Lifting her head, she spotted Cass. Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. Fear? But what would she have to be afraid of from Cass?

  “Joan?”

  With a soft sob, she pulled her gaze from Cass’s, turned and fled.

  “What do you think that was about?” A frown creased Stephanie’s brow.

  “I have no idea.”

  “She looked terrified.”

  Cass shrugged the strange incident off. The woman had just lost her husband, maybe it was grief marring her features. “Yeah . . . weird.”

  The police officer had moved a few tables over and now sat in deep conversation with Priscilla. Jim stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, his stance defensive.

  “He sure is protective of his sister. Don’t you think?” Cass stopped at a table across the room from them where she had a good view of the action.

  Pulling out her chair, Stephanie kept her gaze glued to the Wellingtons. “Even before Conrad . . . well . . . you know . . . Almost as if it were the two of them against Conrad.”

  “It did seem as if Conrad gave Priscilla a hard time, but she struck me as strong enough to deal with him.”

  “She pretty much blew him off when he objected to the séance. Apparently he didn’t have as much power as the other two.” Resting her elbows on the table, Stephanie propped her chin on her clasped hands. “At least not when they teamed up.”

  “Hmm . . .” Cass rested her cheek on her hand. Jim gently massaged his sister’s shoulders. He’d rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, leaving the corded muscles of his forearms visible.

  “Hey.” Stephanie snapped her fingers in front of Cass’s face. “Aren’t you listening?”

  “Uh . . . sorry. I must have zoned out for a minute.”

  “Uh-huh.” Stephanie made no attempt to hide her smirk as she nodded knowingly.

  Ugh . . . great. Now she’d tell Bee, and Cass would never hear the end of it. “Don’t uh-huh me. How can you even tell what I’m thinking about?”

  “Might have something to do with that bit of drool running down your chin.”

  “What? You’re crazy.” Cass waited for her to glance back toward the Wellingtons then discreetly checked her chin for drool. Stephanie’s soft laughter told her she’d been played.

  “Smart aleck.” Cass couldn’t help but laugh. Between Stephanie and Bee trying to play matchmaker, it was a wonder she wasn’t married off ten times already. Speaking of married . . .

  She sat up straighter and nudged Stephanie as Donald and Sylvia entered the dining room. With a glance at Priscilla and Jim talking to the cop, they skirted the table and sat one table away.

  Cass worked hard to ignore them. “Can you do me a favor, Steph?”

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  “Could you not mention me going into Conrad’s room to Tank?”

  Stephanie sighed and stared at Cass. “Come on, Cass. You know I don’t like lying to Tank. Besides, it might be important. You have no idea what Donald was doing there. H
ow do you know he didn’t kill Conrad? Besides, what if Donald tells the police he was there?”

  No matter how she felt about Donald, it was hard to see him in the role of a killer. Still . . . “Technically, it’s not really lying. You’re just neglecting to mention something that probably doesn’t matter anyway. Plus, we don’t even know for sure Conrad was killed. If he committed suicide, Donald’s presence doesn’t matter. And I highly doubt Donald will confess to being there. He was a nervous wreck about me catching him.”

  “You know, I don’t get you. I’d think you’d want to rat good ole Donald out after what he did to you.”

  “It’s not really Donald I’m worried about.” Shooting Stephanie a sheepish grin, Cass shrugged. “I don’t want Tank to get mad at me.”

  “Oh, please. He’s not going to . . .” Stephanie paused for a moment. “No. You’re right. He’s gonna be pissed.” They laughed together, keeping their voices low out of respect for the Wellingtons.

  “Hey. What’s he doing here? I thought he’d stay as far away from any chance of interrogation as possible.”

  Cass looked in the direction Stephanie indicated. Bee was striding toward her, a tray in his hands. He slowed for a few seconds as he passed the Wellingtons’ table.

  “I don’t know. I figured he’d stay away, too.”

  When he reached them, Bee lowered the tray to the table. “Hey, beautiful.” He handed Cass and Stephanie each a cup of tea. “You too, Stephanie.”

  “Ha-ha.” Stephanie smacked his arm. “What are you doing here?”

  He perched on the edge of a chair, feet flat on the floor, looking ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. “I brought Beast back upstairs.”

  Cass groaned.

  “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure diving and tunneling through all that snow tuckered him out. I think he’ll sleep, for a little while, at least.” He stirred milk into his tea, then handed it to Stephanie. “And don’t worry about taking him to the vet. I found the missing piece of comforter.”