“We’re doing good. I love being married,” she said. “The touch thing is hard, but we’re working through it. As long as his hands are all over me and not something old, we’re good.”
She imagined it would be.
Anything Beckett touched with his bare flesh could pull him into a dangerous trance. They had to buy a place that was brand new, and where no one was hurt or died. All their furniture was brand new, too, and antiques were a no-no.
Even then, Beckett walked around in his leather gloves just in case. He couldn’t risk it, especially if Claire wasn’t around to pull him back from the brink.
“He watches you like you’re the center of his world,” Tori stated. She knew because Julian was the same.
“That’s the best part. We’re talking about kids and starting a family.”
Tori could hear the hesitation.
“And?”
“We don’t think we’re going to do it. I know before Beck, I was hesitant to even think about getting married or having kids, but neither one of us feels that lure to be parents.”
She got it.
“You have time. You’re not old.”
She smiled. “Yeah, we’ll see. Although, once my husband sees me like this, he’s going to be all stirred up.”
Tori laughed. “Oh, I’m aware. Men are men.”
Yes, they were.
Tori saw the company car heading their way. The windows were super dark, tinted to the max, so they could avoid being seen on a stakeout. It worked perfectly for today’s little mission.
To anyone watching, it would look like a pimp dropping off a purse to one of his girls.
Perfect.
“Here comes Vivian.”
They both watched as the car pulled into the parking lot. It rolled to a stop.
Justin was amused as he peered out his wife’s window. “Oh look, my sister and my sister-in-law are both sluts. Who would have thought?”
Vivian punched him in the arm, and he winced.
“I meant that with nothing but love and affection, Army and Navy.”
Claire shook her head. “Don’t be a dick or I’m telling Clarissa. You know what she’ll do.”
He stopped laughing.
“Brat.”
She smiled. “Just give us the file. I have to go bounce in my husband’s lap.”
“Gross,” Justin muttered. “That’s going to take a lot of bleach to wash away that picture,” he muttered.
She was aware.
That’s why she said it. Claire knew how to handle her brothers. Connor, Justin, and Julian were predictable if nothing. One mention of a sex life from a sister, and they were squeamish.
“Here you go,” Vivian said, passing her purse to Tori when she leaned in the window.
“Any issues?” she asked.
“Nope. It was clean, and it was fast. I don’t think the cop was any the wiser. He’s always been pretty laid back, but he did let slip that the commissioner is all over this.”
Great.
That’s exactly what she didn’t want to hear.
They didn’t need any surprises at this point. They had a shitload of them going on, and they couldn’t risk anyone else going to jail.
She wanted normalcy to return.
There was something she’d never thought she’d say.
“We’re heading back to the office. What do you need us to do?” Vivian asked.
She checked her mental list to see what else had to be handled before they got back. There wasn’t much—not until they got Beckett’s feedback on the crime scene.
“Help with the searches. If we can get Shelby’s cell records, Roman and Mattie will get us some people to interview. We need to figure out who the mystery person was when Beau called. That’s likely our next lead.”
Justin saluted. “On it, Miss Cheap Hooker.”
She stared at him. “Who is Clarissa’s favorite?”
He sighed. “You.”
“Who gave her a grandchild?”
“You.”
“Who will she kill for calling me a cheap hooker?”
Vivian laughed and pointed at her husband. “YOU!”
“Message received. I’ll be good,” he said. “It’s a tough crowd tonight,” he teased. “Be safe and stay out of trouble. Tell Julian that. We can’t have him in jail too. One Littlemoon a month is sufficient,” he said, referring to Clarissa being arrested.
“I’ll tell them when we get inside,” she stated. “They’re waiting for two hookers.”
He snickered. “Yeah, I know.”
Claire gave him the look, knowing what her perverted brother was thinking. “Well, while we wait, I might give Beckett a blow…”
He cut her off with some gagging noises.
“I’ll puke. Knock it off.”
She snorted as Vivian rolled her eyes. As they pulled away, Tori hung Vivian’s purse over her arm.
“Well, ready to see what we’re up against?” she asked.
Was she ever?
“Let’s get it done.”
He watched from the parking lot across the street. What amused him the most was that there was NO media. Somehow, the Littlemoons had managed to evade them.
He gave them props.
Considering they were the center of a shit storm, and always in the news to begin with, that was one hell of a feat.
Arsen had tried to get into their office to do an interview, and it was like trying to move through a rave mid-song. The throng of reporters was a bitch to navigate.
Now there were none.
As he sat there taking pictures, he watched Tori Littlemoon, clearly, it was her, since he recognized her face. She took the handoff without batting an eyelash.
The woman had balls.
He’d give her that.
Then again, he knew she was a Fed at one time. That likely had something to do with it.
When they headed into the motel, Arsen called the precinct and spoke to his partner.
“Jamie, I’m not feeling so well. I’m going to cut out and head home. I think I have a bug.”
Detective Bender sympathized. “Feel better. I’ll be here working on the case if you need me. I have to find a way to connect Beau Christensen to these crimes.”
He figured that was going to be the plan. It was also why he wanted to do all of this alone. His partner wasn’t working a case. He was trying to frame a potentially innocent man.
“I’ll call you later. Let me know if you find anything,” he added.
Arsen disconnected the call and picked up his coffee. It was time to figure out this mystery.
A set of his files.
An ex-Fed.
And two Littlemoons dressed as hookers, trying to sneak into a motel room.
Obviously, the one where her mother was killed.
Yeah, something was up.
Now he needed to figure out what, and fast.
The clock was ticking, and curiosity was killing him. What the hell was going on?
* * * L i t t l e m o o n * * *
When Tori and Claire strolled in, Julian was sitting on a bed and Beckett was trying not to touch anything in the room. From the look on his face, it was clear he was picking up some energy.
None of it was good.
There was a lot of past in that room, and none of it was what he wanted to see.
“Hey! We have it.”
Both men glanced over, and Beckett looked worried, but Julian was simply grinning. They’d been to this dive before, and they’d copulated like wild animals.
Tori didn’t doubt that was what he was thinking about either. Maybe the lecherous eyebrow wiggle gave him away. Yeah, Claire would be horrified to know what her brother was pondering.
It nearly made her laugh.
“Do we have the files?” Julian asked.
“We do,” Tori admitted, pulling them from the purse.
Julian opened his mouth when she bent over—until she pointed at him.
“You won
’t do it if you know what’s good for you. Claire will bust your ass back, and you’re squeamish about your baby sisters getting their groove on.”
She had a point.
He laughed. “Yes, ma’am. Hop on up, and we’ll start working.”
Claire and Tori climbed onto the bed, but Beckett stayed far enough away to protect himself.
One touch…
Yeah, it wouldn’t be good.
As soon as they were settled, Tori began pulling the file apart. This was like gold to them. It was so valuable, that she didn’t want to let it out of her sight.
This was their only look into this case from the police’s side of the game. It was like looking at someone’s hand during a poker game.
It would tell them everything they needed to know.
“Okay, honey, break it down,” Julian stated.
She scanned before she began. “We have TOD around eight at night—give or take,” she said, as Julian began making notes.
“Does Beau have an alibi for that time?” Beckett asked, flexing his fingers to try and stay calm. He knew what was coming, and he was worried.
Going under always meant the risk of not coming back. He was picking up some vibes from that bed, but fortunately, none of them were death related.
Truth be told, he was getting horny.
It was one of the after effects, and he was praying his wife would help him out later.
“No,” stated Tori. “He was home, making dinner for Nyx. He headed here at nine to meet with HER. Before eight thirty, he was getting a coffee, but he wasn’t on the cameras in the coffee shop until then. He’s shit out of luck by about thirty minutes. TOD isn’t a science when the air conditioning was on in the room.”
Julian glanced over at his wife. “Her?”
Tori wouldn’t say her name.
She could feel her tickling at her brain, wanting to talk. Up to that point, she was using her gift and the skills that Nyx had taught her to block it out.
It wasn’t happening.
Shelby had caused enough issues, and she wasn’t going to be a fight between her and Julian.
Not tonight.
“No alibi and we are still screwed,” Julian stated.
Well, not them.
Beau.
He was sinking fast.
Had he stopped for coffee thirty minutes earlier, this whole thing would have been different. They would have had a way to get him out from under this.
Damn it!
“At least we have a timeline,” Tori offered. “Before, the cops wouldn’t tell us anything. That one detective was a dick.”
And he was.
Jamie Bender had a giant chip on his shoulder.
“He never liked Vivian,” Julian stated. “She once mentioned him. He’s an ass kissing weasel who can’t do his job in a paper bag.”
Gee.
How did Julian really feel?
“What else is in the report?” Beckett asked, finally moving a little closer to the bed. Well, he was moving closer to Claire, and he was watching her with a predatory gaze.
“Are you okay?” Claire asked.
“I’m getting energy from the bed,” he muttered. “It’s like feeling a porno instead of watching it.”
His whole being rippled.
Claire went to his body and wrapped herself around him. As soon as she did, it was her calming energy he was feeling.
Julian couldn’t help himself. He began humming porno music. When would he ever get the chance to bust Beckett again?
“It’s your energy I’m feeling. Want me to look?” he asked.
It shut Julian up, and fast.
Claire soothingly ran her hand over his back. “What can I do for you?” she whispered, trying to help Beckett relax.
He whispered in her ear.
Claire’s blood pressure shot up. “Later,” she whispered back, hoping he understood. She’d distract them when they were alone.
Gently, she kissed him. Beckett used that to ground himself in the here and now. Slowly, he broke away.
“I’m good now, baby. Continue, Tori.”
She kept reading.
“We have COD as blunt force trauma and exsanguination from her wounds.”
“What a way to go,” muttered Claire.
Basically, someone beat the hell out of Shelby, and then left her to die in her own blood.
Yeah, that was brutal.
“Beau should be clear from that. He didn’t have a scratch on him,” Claire stated.
“Yeah, but that’s not enough to save his ass,” she stated. “We need more—especially if the police are playing dirty framing games.”
“Keep reading,” Julian offered.
Tori did just that.
“The coroner said she fought, but she didn’t get any trace in the process. There was no DNA under her nails, there were no fibers on her, and she wasn’t raped.”
Well, that was good.
“What else?”
“She was found with twenty dollars to her name, her jewelry, all of which was fake, and about four ounces of pot.”
“She was smoking it?” Beckett asked.
Tori scanned the file. “Apparently, because she was dying, she had a medical card. She was given it by her doctor.”
Tori knew her mother was ill, but she didn’t know what she had. Honestly, with the shit she’d pulled, she didn’t want to know. The less she felt for the woman, the better off she was, and that was how it had to be.
Shelby had left.
She’d abandoned them.
Now she was dead.
It was time for Tori to clear Beau, and for them to move on from this mess.
Her biological mess.
“What did she have?” Julian asked. He knew why his wife hadn’t said anything, but he wanted to help her. Tori was angry. When that broke, she’d break. Feeding her little pieces of the information would be better than when she finally took it all in at once.
He knew her, and he knew her well.
“Shelby had pancreatic cancer,” she stated, running her finger over the autopsy report. “The ME stated it was stage four, and she didn’t have more than a month left.”
Julian thought about it.
“So, we have a sick woman, who is dying. She’s desperate to survive those last few days.”
“Yeah, she’s going to need money,” Tori stated. “We were the well that wouldn’t keep her in the life she was accustomed to, so she had to go elsewhere.”
They all thought about it.
“Where would she get money?” Tori asked.
“Selling her pot?” Claire offered. “It wouldn’t yield much, but maybe this was a drug deal gone bad. Could that be a possibility?”
Tori scanned the autopsy and toxicology report.
“She had oxycodone in her system.”
“Now, those on the street…”
Yeah, she was aware.
They sold for twenty bucks a pill, and she likely had a big ol’ bottle since she was stage four. They would have kept her comfortable during her final days.
Then again, knowing her mother, she would have hit up four or five doctors to get as many pills as she could. It wasn’t like she could go to jail for twenty years for fraud and selling drugs.
She was on her way out.
Shelby was always scheming. That was how she rolled in life, and likely near death.
“So, maybe we do have a drug deal gone bad,” Julian stated. “It makes more sense than Beau killing her. Maybe we can work that and see if the cops will take the lead.”
“Yeah, this is why we need that phone list and ASAP,” Tori stated. “We can start tracking the numbers, interviewing the suspects, and…”
Beckett gave her the bad news. “I’m pretty sure anyone, who is on that list, has already spilled their guts to the police. When you were a Fed, where is the first place you’d go to get a lead?” he asked Tori.
“The phone.”
“Yeah, and we’re a w
eek out from her murder. You know Detectives Woods and Bender have already beat that horse to death. If there was anyone guilty on that list, they are going to suspiciously go MIA before they go to jail.”
She was aware, but this was all they had. It was looking bad for Beau, and she didn’t doubt if they didn’t find a viable suspect, he was taking the long walk to the chair.
If she wanted to help her brother, it would mean retracing the cops’ footsteps until she found that thread. At that point, knowing what they knew, she didn’t trust the police.
Not to be the good guys.
Not to do their jobs.
Not to fight for justice.
She was smarter than that, and she’d learned from her past with working with local police. They liked to pass the buck.
God!
She had to find that thread to tie this all up before the local PD swallowed her brother alive.
Beau’s life depended on it. She didn’t doubt they’d lie, pin this to him, and break the law to bury him.
Why?
She was a Littlemoon.
“We still tear it apart,” Tori stated. “We don’t have a choice. This is Beau’s life. That’s what matters now. We promised to get him out of this mess, and we will.”
They agreed.
Tori scanned the papers.
“They don’t have a weapon. Maybe we can send this over to Christina, and she can give us a heads-up,”
Julian agreed.
“She’s good at wounds,” Claire offered. “She has a knack of just seeing them and knowing.”
Tori didn’t doubt it had everything to do with being a head tech for the FBI. Christina had been an asset to Elizabeth Blackhawk and her team. She was surely missed.
Oh well.
Their loss was the Littlemoon’s gain.
Tori snapped a picture of her dead mother’s crime scene picture and sent it over to their employee.
Immediately, the phone rang.
“Hey! It’s me,” Christina said, when Tori answered the phone.
“Jesus! Were you sitting on your cell?”
She laughed. “Yes. I’m at home with a baby. I need something to do. What do you need?”
“The picture.”
“Of your mother?” she asked.
“Of Shelby,” Tori corrected. It was second nature not to refer to her as that, and that’s the way she wanted to keep it.
Kiss of Souls Page 7
