The Accidental Mermaid (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 16)

by Dakota Cassidy

  They were going to somehow talk their way into that building and sift through his belongings. He’d only been dead for five days, his things couldn’t have gone far yet, and if they got lucky, maybe they could find some of his research or his computer or anything that would prove he’d never approved that water.

  The ride was mostly quiet on the way, with Nina at the wheel and Darnell riding shotgun, while she and Tucker sat lost in their thoughts in the back.

  As they sped along the highway in the early morning light with the sun just poking its head out, her thoughts turned to what they could come across on this hunt to clear Tucker’s and her uncle’s names. She didn’t want to believe someone had hurt her uncle to keep him quiet, but she didn’t cherish the idea he’d killed himself, either.

  Was he unstable enough to take his own life? Had she failed to be there for him when he needed someone most? Should she have put herself in her car and driven here to Brooklyn and demanded he see her? Guilt ate at her.

  Though, if he’d been anything even remotely like her father and grandfather, he was a tough cookie and he’d have never stood for someone besmirching his name if he wasn’t responsible.

  Knowing so little about him was frustrating, but she was also going to go through some of her grandfather’s boxes she’d remembered tucking away in her guest bedroom. Maybe she’d come across a clue of some kind that would help.

  As they pulled up to the apartment building, a brick structure with shiny glass doors framed in brass and a cheerful elderly gentleman for a doorman, Esther’s stomach revolted.

  She wasn’t very good at subterfuge. She’d pulled yesterday off on a wing and a prayer, because keeping herself and all these other mermaids she kept hearing about safe had been paramount. She’d never be able to live with herself if someone was hurt due to her negligence.

  Tucker reached over and grabbed her hand, leaving her with that funny tingle again. His hands were rougher than she’d expected. He did work in an office, after all, but his lightly calloused hand enveloping her softer, smaller one sent a thrill of awareness up her spine.

  “It’s going to be fine, Esther. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. But if you want to bail, I don’t blame you. This isn’t your problem.”

  But she shook her head firmly and squeezed his hand before pulling it away and putting it in her lap. “Nope. Teamwork makes the dream work. I’m your in. If nothing else, I can tell the doorman I’m a mourning relative. We need all the ammunition we can get to get inside.”

  Nina parallel parked and turned around in her seat, her sunglasses and sunscreen in place. “Okay, so let’s go over this shit one more time. You’re his grieving niece and because you missed his funeral, you’d just like to be in his space to have time to say goodbye, right?”

  “Yes.” Her stomach jolted again, twisting and diving until she thought she’d vomit. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like she was lying about being his niece, but the intent was to rifle through his things, and that made her feel dirty—even though she knew they had no choice.

  Nina nodded, turning the ignition off. “And if you could fucking summon a tear, that’d be icing on the cake.”

  Tucking her chin into her favorite blue and purple scarf, Esther nodded. “Got it. Tears.”

  Darnell swung around and eyed Tucker with his friendly smile. “You got this, man?”

  Tucker also nodded his dark head. “I’m her boyfriend here for emotional support.”

  Darnell winked, pulling his Giants cap down over his eyes. “If you got any trouble at all, y’all text me. I’ll come runnin’.”

  Nina twisted around and held her fist out to them. “Knuck it up for luck, guppies.”

  They each reached forward and bumped the vampire’s fist before Tucker turned to her, brushed a strand of hair out of her face and said, “Let’s do this.”

  Hopping out of the SUV, Tucker came around and offered his arm to her, pulling her tightly to his rigid side as they crossed the street and approached the doorman.

  The sun was bright, glinting off the falling leaves, just now changing to the bright oranges and yellows of autumn. Trees lined the quiet street, railroad-tie planters filled with mums and marigolds at the base of each trunk.

  The surroundings surprised her. This seemed more like a setting you’d find families in, where they’d raise their children and play in the small park across the street with its slide and swing set.

  She’d always pictured her uncle living somewhere less family oriented—less beautiful to look at and more practical or maybe industrial, like a warehouse.

  Upon seeing them, the doorman smiled, and before he could even wish them a good morning, Esther almost forgot everything but what she was here to do—get inside.

  But Tucker slowed her roll and bid the cheerful man in a dark blue uniform, hat, and white gloves a, “G’day, mate. Pleasant day, wouldn’t you agree?”

  The man instantly smiled, the bright sun highlighting the wrinkles by his eyes. “Australia?”

  Tucker grinned, his hand tight against her waist, making her feel safe and secure. “Yes, sir.”

  “How can I help you two on this lovely fall morning?” he asked, his white-gloved hand on the brass handle of the glass door.

  Esther gave a dramatically sorrowful sigh and leaned toward the doorman, her eyes wide and sad. “I’m Esther Sanchez. My uncle, Gomez Sanchez, lived here for many years. I was out of the country when I found out he…” She stopped and bit her lip hard, hoping the sting would inspire tears. “Well, I’m sure you know by now what happened. Anyway, this may seem a little out of the blue, but do you think I could just see his apartment? Maybe spend some time with his things? I know it sounds stupid, but somehow, it brings me comfort. You see, I missed his funeral due to a flight delay in Brussels. Oh, and I forgot to get my allergy medicine, right, honey?”

  She looked to Tucker, who nodded and smiled indulgently.

  “It’s just hell on earth for me if I fly without them—and my gel cold pack. Absolutely have to have the gel pack or I slam shut like a trap door. Sinuses, you know? And then, of all things, there was this huge rainstorm on the way to the airport, hail and thunder and…and we got caught in it and we were already late. Honestly, I thought I’d have a heart attack because of the stress. But then we got to the airport, only to find out our flight was delayed. And after that harrowing ride in such poor weather! So we tried to book another, because I desperately wanted to attend my uncle’s funeral and pay my last respects. It had been so long since I’d seen him. I think it was back in 2002 at a polka festival. Bet you didn’t know he loved to polka, did you? Neither here nor there—”

  Tucker stopped her incessant babble when he poked her in the ribs. “Lover?” He hitched his jaw to indicate the doorman had opened the door for them.

  “Oooo, thank you!” she chirped, taking a deep breath and squeezing the doorman’s arm.

  He tipped his hat at her, his light brown eyes sympathetic. “It’s my pleasure. Mr. Sanchez was always pleasant to me. I knew who you were the moment I saw you. He’d shown me your pictures throughout the years. He thought the world of you… As you know, he’d been here for years and years, so I felt a little like I knew you. Anyway, I’m so sorry to hear about his…your loss.”

  Immediately, she went contrite, letting her eyes get watery even though she was confused as hell about her uncle showing someone her pictures. She shook off the oddity and said, “I appreciate that. Has anyone else been here? A friend, maybe? Girlfriend? We’d been out of touch for a few months, so I haven’t kept up.”

  “Oh, no. Mr. Sanchez…” He looked off into the distance, as if he didn’t know how to tell her something. “He didn’t have many visitors.”

  “No one’s come to clear his apartment out?” Tucker inquired.

  The doorman shook his head. “No, sir. But I just got word from the board today a cleaning crew is coming tomorrow. So, it looks like you’re just in time.”

  “A
nd his apartment number? I can’t seem to recall what it was,” Esther responded.

  “34B,” the doorman provided, sweeping his arm inward to motion they should enter.

  “Thank you. You’ve been very kind. We’ll just be on our way,” Tucker said, steering her over the threshold of the building and toward the shiny black elevators. He pushed the button, keeping her close to his side until they were behind the elevator doors.

  Once inside, he glanced down at her and chuckled. “You were on quite a roll, young lady. Hail? Allergies? Polka?”

  As she stared at their reflection standing side by side in the elevator doors, trying to keep her mind off the idea of them as a couple, she snickered. “Too much, right? When I get nervous, I get a little yappy. Mostly when I have to lie, I get really yappy and things just fall out of my face before I can put the brakes on.”

  “But you weren’t lying, Esther. He is your uncle.”

  “Yeah, but that’s about the only thing I didn’t lie about. I’ve never even considered going to Brussels and I don’t have a single allergy to anything.”

  Tucker barked a laugh, motioning for her to exit in front of him. “Good to know.”

  “And how strange that he said he knew me from my pictures? I had no idea my uncle knew anything about me, other than I exist.”

  “I’ve had a thought or two about your uncle. In all the communications I’d had with him over the years, it was clear he was a genius, and certainly introverted. We’d invited him to every Christmas party and company barbecue we’d ever had, and he never once attended. Surely, that speaks to an introvert’s nature—or maybe he just wasn’t a party animal? But I wonder, due to his high IQ and factual, rather than chatty emails, if maybe it was more than introversion? Maybe we’re talking somewhere on the autism spectrum? I don’t know what you know about his health history, but I’m just throwing it out there as something to consider.”

  A light bulb went off in her head. That made complete sense. It would explain so much. She didn’t know a lot about autism, but she knew enough to know, in part, it fit the conversations her grandparents had had about her uncle over the years.

  “That’s a good point. I guess I never gave it a lot of thought, but it’s certainly something to think about. Maybe we’ll find some answers at his place.”

  “Fair enough,” he said.

  Thinking about the possibilities Tucker had mentioned, she wandered down the long hallway with only four apartment doors, all in the same color red, until she stood in front of her uncle’s. And then she realized something.

  “We don’t have a key.” Damn. That was something she hadn’t even considered. She’d been more focused on getting into the building than getting into the apartment.

  “No worries,” Tucker assured her, pulling a pen from his pocket and holding it up with a gleam in his eye. “I did my fair share of mucking about before I got serious about life.”

  Her gaze went wide and she grinned at him. “Reeeally? I’d have never thought a VP of Production at a Fortune 500 company—who’s a mere thirty-five, mind you—would be one for mucking about. Seems to me you’d have to be pretty focused to get where you are.”

  He knelt down and drove the pen’s tip into the doorknob. “How do you think I got to be VP? And how did you know I was thirty-five?”

  “It said so in that article about us. It also said I was thirty-four. Which I am not, thank you very much. I’m thirty-two.”

  He jiggled the pen. “Well, there was plenty of incorrect information in that article. So let’s just pretend the damn thing never happened.”

  She leaned against the beige plaster wall and wondered something out loud. “Any thoughts on who gave us up to the press yet?”

  He shook his dark head, a lock of hair falling over his forehead as the lock clicked and he stood up. “I have Jess on it. I’m hoping she can find something out, because I can tell you, I have no idea who it could be. But if and when I find out, I’ll make sure they pay. I don’t care what the press says about me, but it was unfair to bring you into this. It never even occurred to me there was a risk, due to the fact that no one had any names concerning the water. I’m sorry for that, Esther.”

  But she waved a hand at him and moved away from the heat of his body, remembering her hysterical-bonding theory. “I don’t blame you at all, Tucker. I hope you know that. Really know that. It was an accident. This is all an accident. Let’s just get inside and see what we can find.”

  “Done deal,” he agreed, putting his hand on the doorknob. “You ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  When Tucker pushed the door open and they took their first look of the interior, they both gasped.

  Chapter 10

  Tucker put his hand on Esther’s waist as she attempted to wade her way into the living room around stacks upon stacks of papers. All manner of papers. Newspapers, sale circulars, wrapping paper, tissue paper, and ream after ream of computer paper. The piles were everywhere, covering walls, in some cases almost hitting the top of the windows that overlooked the beautiful park across the street.

  “What the hell?” Tucker murmured, craning his neck to scan the entire room.

  “He was a hoarder,” she breathed, covering her mouth in shock. “Oh my God. I had no idea… Maybe this was why he never invited anyone over?” Could this be the reason her grandfather often came back so upset after a visit with her uncle?

  Flashes of conversations came back to her in bits and pieces. Phrases like “It’s not safe” and “You can’t even move” floated to the surface of her brain.

  Tucker ran a hand through his hair and looked around once more. “But you said your grandfather visited him frequently.”

  “He did, but he never said a word about something like this,” she said, looking around in wonder. “Though, it sure explains why he was always so sad when he came back from a visit.”

  She could vividly remember her grandmother whispering in soothing tones to her grandfather on several occasions after he came home from a visit with Gomez.

  Her grandmother had stopped making even the occasional trip when she began showing symptoms of Alzheimer’s. In fact, her grandfather had refused to bring her after that, promising Gomez would come see her in the nursing home she eventually retired to when she couldn’t be cared for at home any longer.

  Esther didn’t know if he ever did visit her grandmother, but hindsight had her wondering about all those hushed conversations her grandparents had, and if they were about this.

  Tucker tipped her chin upward and peered into her eyes, his gaze concerned. “Are you okay? This is a lot to take in.”

  Sucking in a shuddering breath, she had to agree. She almost couldn’t even see the kitchen from the living room for the stacks of paper. “I’m just shocked. I had no idea…”

  “Did I hear you say your grandparents raised you?” he asked, pulling his leather jacket off and throwing it over his arm, because really, there was nowhere else to put it.

  “They did. From the age of nine.” Inevitably, he’d ask what had happened to her mom and dad, so she decided not to give him the opportunity. “My parents died in a boating accident.”

  He didn’t bat a sexy eyelash, but he did give her a look of total sympathy. “I’m sorry, Esther. I wouldn’t have pried had I known.”

  She shook her head and dismissed the notion as she waded her way through the first pile of newspapers. She managed to end up in the middle of the living room, if she stuck to the path that her uncle had created to make your way through the maze of paper.

  “It’s fine. It was a long time ago.” That was all she could handle saying at this point.

  But she remembered them so clearly—even now. Dark and tall, Eduardo and Anita Sanchez were both slender and athletic and moved like two graceful cats. Ironically, her father had met her mother at her best friend’s pool party and they’d hit it off. She vaguely remembered her mother telling her she knew the minute she met her father that he wa
s going to ask her to marry him, and she was going to say yes.

  And he did ask her, and she did say yes, and as a young couple they’d moved to Staten Island, where her father took over running the shoe store Salvador had built from the ground up, and where her mother worked as the store’s bookkeeper.

  There weren’t many times she could remember being happier than when she’d have the day to loll away in her grandfather’s store. There were always hugs and laughter, good food, amazing holidays, and frequent trips to the beach.

  Until there weren’t.

  Her phone beeped then, pulling her away from the memories she so cherished and forcing her to focus on the task at hand. Which seemed insurmountable.

  As she read Nina’s text, and replied, Tucker looked to her with a tentative expression from behind a stack of Christmas wrapping paper. His hand hovered over the pile. “May I? I don’t want to move anything if you’re not comfortable.”

  But she looked away from his scrutiny and brushed off how overwhelmed she felt right now. “That’s what we’re here for, Tucker. Let’s not pussyfoot around because this could take all night. I don’t even know where to begin.”

  But he stepped around the pile and came to stand next to her, gripping her chin with his wide hand. “This is upsetting you, Esther. The last thing I want to do is bring up bad memories for you. You have enough to deal with.”

  Pulling her ponytail tighter, she rolled up the sleeves of her bulky cable-knit sweater and moved backward again, away from the heat of his hand. “Know what upsets me more? My uncle being accused of killing someone because he screwed up some important test. Worse? A suicide that wasn’t a suicide at all, but a murder. My grandfather was probably rolling around in his grave. So it’s on, as far as I’m concerned. The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”

  He gazed down at her for a long minute, searching her eyes with his, deep furrows in his forehead. “You’re a good egg, Esther Sanchez. Thank you for helping me.” He reached out and took her hand in his for a brief moment before he turned and began to chip away at a pile.