“I can’t think of a single person who’d want my job, or who’s openly made it clear they’d want my job. Whoever it is, they’re good at staying hidden. Of course, I’ve been locked out of all my accounts at the office, so I couldn’t dig around even if I wanted to.”
Pushing herself off the wall, she approached Tucker with a look of determination. “So, what do we have to do in order to prove my uncle was killed to cover this up and clear your name? Never mind. Let’s just do it. Let’s find out who set you up and killed my uncle.”
* * * *
Tucker watched as the women—who refused to leave Esther alone with him, or alone at all, for that matter—sat together in the dining room while a very British, very proper man named Archibald, whizzed about Esther’s kitchen, preparing a meal for everyone.
They’d invited him to stay, which was more than he deserved after not coming clean about his intentions where Esther was concerned. But that they were willing to help him because of her, brought him a strange peace.
They were an eclectic brood, this lot, but as he observed their camaraderie, he had to admire the way they worked together to help a complete stranger.
They were loud while they did it, but they were determined to figure out how to help Esther not only get her mermaid tail in order, but find out who had murdered her uncle.
And he was damned sure someone had murdered Gomez Sanchez to keep his mouth shut. He had a call logged from Gomez just before he’d supposedly killed himself. No voice mail left, just a call from him. It only strengthened Tucker’s belief that he was being set up. That had to be what happened. He refused to believe otherwise, not just because Gomez had been a trusted subcontractor for H2O for over twenty years, but because his life had gone to total shit as a result, and he wanted it back.
He wanted to get up every morning with a purpose, rather than just watch his life go down the shitter while he skimmed Netflix for the next series he could devour. There was nothing worse than empty days filled with nothingness.
If he could just get into his computer at work…but then he thought, whoever had done this surely would have covered their tracks. But he held on to the hope that maybe there was some kind of residual tech imprint, a trail he could follow that would lead to an answer.
And his father?
Damn that stubborn, difficult man and his unshakeable ethics. The moment he’d discovered Tuck had allegedly signed off on this whole mess, a mess he’d wanted nothing to do with from the start because of the risk the divers were taking to get the water, he’d gone after Tuck, balls to the wall.
There’d been no talking, no coercing, no amount of swearing to the gods he’d had nothing to do with it that could convince his father otherwise. Even his mother, Serafina, had begged his father to at least listen, but Getty dismissed them both because there was proof. Hardcore proof.
And there was proof. It was his handwriting on that production order—or someone who was really good at forging his handwriting.
But the worst was the email where it claimed he’d considered the bacterial risks in the water minimal to the profit they could make. That his father believed he’d ever allow people to consume tainted water and become collateral damage, even water that was a little tainted, blew his mind. But it also infuriated him.
He’d worked his ass off to get where he was in the company. There’d been no slack for Tuck Pearson, or his sister, for that matter. Their father demanded perfection, and he demanded they start from the bottom up.
Fresh out of college with an MBA and he’d found himself in, of all places, the mailroom. But he’d gritted his teeth, swallowed his pride, shut his yap and, in less than eight years, proven himself worthy enough to take on the role of VP of Production.
Now, at thirty-five, it had all gone to shit. But with the same kind of determination he’d used to get to where he was in the company, he’d also figure out who the fuck was framing him.
Lost in thought, he didn’t hear the doorbell ring as he sat on the couch, covered in Mooky and Marsha, who’d taken a liking to him. “At least someone still thinks I’m a good guy, eh, Mook?”
The odd combination of Doberman and wire-haired terrier looked up at him and rubbed his jaw against Tuck’s hand with affection, making him smile.
“Are you Esther Sanchez?” someone with impressive articulation asked.
He sat up straight, sliding to the end of the couch, and just as he was about to get up to see who was at the door, he heard her say, “I am. Who are you?”
“I’m Rory Shevchenko from Action News, Channel 8. Care to comment on the collusion between your uncle and the Vice President of Production at H2O-Yo, Tucker Pearson, to sell tainted water and embezzle a million dollars?”
And everything went off the rails from there.
Chapter 9
Lightbulbs flashed and popped, and a roar of chatter erupted from a small crowd of reporters gathered at the edge of her tiny front porch. Tucker was the first one out the door, setting Esther behind him. “Get out of here now!” he roared into the howling wind.
But another reporter, with slicked-back blond hair, jammed a microphone in Tucker’s face and asked, “Don’t you think it’s suspicious that you’re here at the home of Gomez Sanchez’s niece? The man responsible for killing one man and making countless others sick? Reports allege—”
“Hey!” a hulking figure bellowed from the shadows, stepping into the light from the front porch, making everyone turn around. “Y’all might wanna move along here, now! You’re on private property—which means you better skedaddle ’fore I call the po-po.”
As the enormous figure approached, pushing his way through the lot of vultures, Esther didn’t need an introduction. Nina had mentioned her demon friend Darnell was coming in case there was any trouble. He, according to her, was big and loveable and could help in Wanda’s stead. Wanda, who was hard to keep awake and not supposed to be on her feet.
Yet, to see him for the first time was undoubtedly intimidating. He was bulky and crazy tall, his round face hard and angry, and he didn’t look at all loveable right now.
As he made it past the small throng of people, he turned and held up his phone. “I’ma tell y’all one last time—get! Ain’t nobody here got nothin’ to say to you. Go on now,” he demanded, waving an arm in their faces, making everyone duck and gasp before he crossed his arms over his brick wall of a chest and waited for everyone to leave.
As the crowd dispersed, frightened by a man as imposing as Darnell, he turned to Tucker and held out his granite slab of a hand. “I’m Darnell. Good to meet ya, man.”
Tucker grabbed his hand and shook it hard. “Pleasure’s all mine.”
And then, with a smile that transformed his entire face, making his eyes gleam, he spotted Esther, who was still in shock. “You,” he said, pointing a finger at her and wiggling it, “must be Esther. C’mon and give ol’ Darnell a hug.” He held out his bulky arms, his NY Giants shirt shifting to reveal his soft center.
Yet, she was a little afraid. He was a demon and she was a good Catholic girl. And that was some crazy mixed-up dichotomy of religion.
But Nina gave her a light shove from behind. “Don’t be a chicken-shit, Little Fish. He’s not that kind of demon, nitwit. Long story short, he escaped hell. He’s on the good side.”
Oh, well then, you could never get enough hugs from a guy who looked like a big brown teddy bear with a wide smile and more chains around his neck than a set of tires in the winter who was on good’s side, could you?
Esther went willingly into his embrace, finding it warm and reassuring, and it didn’t hurt that he smelled good, too. “I’m Esther. It’s nice to meet you.”
He patted her shoulder with his thick hand and set her from him. “Look at you. A mermaid. Sweet! And you ain’t got nuthin’ to worry about anymore. I’m here now. I’ll keep you safe. Welcome to the family.”
Suddenly shy, because there were so many of these people welcoming her into their fold wi
th almost no questions asked, she choked up a little. “Thank you, Darnell. Please come in.”
And as he did, and the ladies greeted him with hugs and kisses, and Carl, his smile beaming like a fluorescent bulb, thumped him on the back, Esther and Tucker stood and watched.
“They’re like this bizarre family of misfits, huh? Wait, maybe the word isn’t bizarre. Maybe it’s more eclectic, but they all move in tandem, even if they yell a lot and Nina snarls. There’s real love there.”
Tucker nodded, his eyes hinting at sadness as he put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “She is good at snarling, isn’t she?”
“She’s also good at pretending, and lifting, and a plethora of things I’ve heard about but haven’t witnessed. Except for those fangs. Jesus, those fangs.”
Tucker leaned into her, her shoulder just touching the top of his muscled pecs. “Yeah… I hate to admit it, but I had no idea vampires were real, by the way. Or werewolves, or any of this, for that matter.”
“Thought you guys had the market on the paranormal, didja? Kind of presumptuous, wouldn’t you say?” she teased, taking a step away from him because he was just too dang close and he looked and smelled too dang good.
He scrubbed his jaw and shook his head in wonder. “I think I did. I mean, it’s not like we don’t communicate with the outside world, or surface people, as we call them, but this? This is really something else.”
Esther nodded and smiled, but she felt a little empty inside, and maybe even a little jealous. Sure, she had friends—good friends—but they weren’t ride or die like these people were. Maybe their dire circumstances had called for such loyalty, but if what Marty said was true, they’d been together for almost ten years now when they didn’t have to be together.
They chose to be together—which was pretty awesome.
And watching them, seeing this interaction with Darnell, made her miss her parents and her grandparents more than ever. But when she looked up at Tucker, she realized how self-indulgent she was being. He’d been booted out of his family, for heaven’s sake.
Reaching out, she touched his arm and willed her fingers not to test the bump of muscles by tracing them. “I’m sorry about what’s happening with your family right now.”
He stared off into the kitchen, where Archibald hugged Darnell before giving him a plate full of pasta. “I am, too. I’m also sorry the press is hassling you. I don’t know who tipped them off or even how they’d link you to this mess, but—”
Wanda, who was finally awake, though still quite sleepy-eyed, waddled toward them and held up her phone in Tucker’s face. “This is how they’ve managed to link Esther to you. The disgusting vultures.”
Esther and Tucker read the headline from some site on the Internet.
Ex-VP of H2O-Yo Woos Niece of Dead Scientist Responsible for Tainted Water Debacle.
Attached to the article was a picture of she and Tucker sitting on the beach today, his arm around her. Thankfully it was after she’d gotten her legs back, but that someone was skulking around, taking pictures of her without her knowledge, scared the shit out of her.
“I will kill whoever did this,” Tucker spat, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Wring their bloody necks!”
Esther gulped, swallowing hard as she looked to Wanda, dread filling her stomach. “So now my uncle’s name is out there as the person responsible for the death of that man. Perfect.”
“Jessica!” Tucker shouted into his phone. “We’ve got a goddamn leak, and I want to know who the hell it is! The sonofabitch leaked her uncle’s name to the press and took pictures of us today while we were on the damn beach, for Christ’s sake! We need to find out who’s doing this, Jess. I won’t have another person hurt in this mess—especially not Esther, who’s totally innocent.”
As he stomped off toward the bathroom, away from the noise in the kitchen, Wanda gave her a sympathetic smile and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come eat, honey. Let’s sit down and have some of Arch’s amazing Bolognese and figure out what we’re going to do next. Yes?”
Esther let Wanda lead her away toward the kitchen, but a bowl of pasta wasn’t going to make this better. This kind of exposure looked bad—so bad. Not only for her. She wasn’t anyone of note, with some big job where she was thrust into the spotlight. She mediated divorces far messier than this. It would pass for her, but for Tucker? It was the worst.
He didn’t just look like the scum of the earth for producing tainted water, or scummier for embezzling money. Now he looked like he couldn’t care less, because he was off courting the niece of the man who’d killed himself after discovering he’d fucked up some water tests and killed an old man.
Shit.
* * * *
Okay, so maybe a bowl of Bolognese did solve some things, she pondered as she used her thick slice of lightly toasted garlic bread to wipe up the last drop of sauce. Wiping her mouth on a napkin, she reached over her table and impulsively grabbed Arch’s hand.
“Thank you, Archibald. I haven’t had a meal like that since my grandfather died. It was amazing, and so are you.”
He bowed and lifted his head, his eyes twinkling. “Oh, Mistress Esther, you shame me with your praise,” he teased, patting her hand and grinning as though it were nothing.
But to her it was something. It had been quite some time since she’d felt nurtured and cared for, and even if these people disappeared when they figured this out, she’d remember this time with them, and remember it with gratitude.
Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, but she kept them at bay. The changes in her body and life were wreaking havoc on her emotions. “Thank you for dropping everything and coming here to help babysit me while we investigate this. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you enough.”
He threw one of her tea towels over his shoulder and dismissed her with a wave of his hand and a kind smile. “It’s nothing. If I didn’t come and feed this lot while they chased after the bad guys, they’d eat potato chips dipped in pig slop and wash it down with some sugary carbonated swill or another. It’s my duty as a member of the family to keep them in fighting shape.”
Marty laughed, the first time today, which meant she had to be feeling better. Pulling her gleaming hair up into a bun at the back of her head, she stuck a pencil though it to secure the bulk of strands in place and grabbed empty plates. “I, sir, take offense to that comment. I most assuredly would not eat potato chips dipped in pig slop, funny man. It’s Doritos in pig slop for the win, thank you very much!”
Wanda pulled Archibald to her and kissed his cheek. “You’re so fresh, mister. You’d better quit talkin’ smack about me or I’m going to take away your favorite kitchen tool,” she teased.
Archibald mimicked an arrow through his heart. “Oh no, Mistress Wanda. I beg of you, not the Fry Daddy! Whatever shall I do if I can’t slave over hot oil, making chicken wings on football Sunday for the men in your lives? Woe is me!”
Everyone burst into laughter as they made quick work of clearing the table and loading the dishwasher, refusing to allow her to help.
Finding herself with nothing to do, and Tucker having excused himself to make more phone calls, Esther scooped up Mook and went into the living room to sit by the fire and consider what they’d do next.
Carl sat cross-legged on the floor by the fire, flipping through one of her books from the built-in shelves. She touched him on the shoulder before curling up on the chair under a blanket, with Mook in her lap. “Where the Wild Things Are. One of my very favorites,” she commented. “My grandpa used to read it to me often when I was a kid. Do you like to read, Carl?”
He turned to her, his pale green skin glowing by the firelight, his lopsided smile warm and genuine as he reached out and scratched under Mook’s chin. “Yesss,” he whispered, using his duct-taped finger to point proudly to the pages. “So much.”
She smiled back. “That’s so wonderful, Carl. I read all the time when I was a kid and in college. I should do mor
e of it nowadays instead of watching so much TV. Some of my happiest memories are from the nights my grandfather and I read together.”
He paused and looked at her for a moment, his deep eyes swirling. Then he asked with his limited words—words Darnell had assured her he was working on, “Sad?”
Leaning forward, Esther paused, too. Nina had explained Carl’s existence, and his place in their family, to which she’d done some more open-mouthed gaping. But he was the kindest soul, and had the most endearing qualities as he played with Mook and Marsha. When he ate broccoli, of all things, and mostly when he was surrounded by the people he loved so much, he was at his most precious.
“What do you mean by sad, Carl?”
He reached out his hand and touched her cheek with the gentlest of gestures. “You. Sad?”
She had to think about that for a minute. That this sweet soul had picked up on her emotions touched her. “I don’t know if sad is the word I’d use. But being with all of you reminded me of my family. So maybe I’m happy-sad?”
He grinned and held the book up. “I read…to…you? Like Grampa?”
She snuggled Mook close to her and had another private moment of gratitude before she nodded and smiled warmly at this new friend she’d made. “I’d love that, Carl. I’d really love that.”
As Carl began to read, showing her pictures, and they shared small moments smiling and laughing, right this second, the world was a peaceful, beautiful place, and everything else faded away.
* * * *
The next morning, after a breakfast of fruit, scrambled eggs, and fluffy blueberry scones courtesy of Arch, Nina, Darnell, Tuck, and Esther piled into the SUV Marty had parked two streets over behind a deserted snack stand to avoid the possibility of press and headed toward the city to her uncle’s apartment.
After Darnell had spent the night doing some pre-investigation, they’d found her uncle had actually lived in a very nice area of Brooklyn with a doorman to his apartment building.
The Accidental Mermaid (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 16) Page 9
