Also by Kari Lee Townsend
Kicking the Habit
The Fortune Teller Mysteries
Tempest in the Tea Leaves
Corpse in the Crystal Ball
Trouble in the Tarot
Writing as Kari Lee Harmon
Naughty or Nice
Project Produce
Destiny Wears Spurs
Sleeping in the Middle
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2013 Kari Lee Townsend
Originally published as a Kindle Serial, August 2013
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer, are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781477849903
ISBN-10: 1477849904
Cover design by Inkd Inc
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013913998
This book is dedicated to my best friend and critique partner, Barbara Witek. There is NO way I could have ventured into the land of serials without you. Thank you so much for going through this journey with me. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. Love you.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Episode 1
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
Episode 2
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
Episode 3
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
Episode 4
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
Episode 5
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
Episode 6
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
Episode 7
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
Episode 8
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kindle Serials
CHAPTER 1
* * *
“Kalliope, why won’t you listen to your mama and go out with the nice Greek boy?” Ophelia Ballas boomed through the speaker on my cell phone. This was the fifth time she’d called today, and my patience was wearing thin.
“You’re killing me, Ma,” I responded loudly so she could hear me. I was working in the loft above Full Disclosure, my best friend Jazlyn Alvarez’s boutique, as I put the final touches on my latest design.
“You’re killing me,” she ranted two decibels higher. “How am I supposed to have grandbabies if you won’t date? And he’s Greek, for goodness sake. Do you know how hard it is to find a nice Greek boy who isn’t related to us in this town?”
Clearview, Connecticut, was a quaint small town with plenty of amenities and close enough to New York City to suit me perfectly. I didn’t need or want a man. I sighed and then said, “He’s half Greek, and you know why I don’t date.” I turned the manikin around and pinned another piece of black lace to the red satin nightie, readjusting it three times before I let go.
“It’s just a phase. You’ll grow out of it,” was her response. The same response she always used.
“You’ve been saying that for the past twenty-eight years. I don’t like germs, and I don’t like to be touched. That’s not a phase; that’s a condition. One not exactly conducive to romance,” I pointed out, turning the manikin around again and again to check out my handiwork.
I had learned to live with my little quirks and was coming to accept that marriage and children were not in my future. That’s why I poured all of my fantasies into my lingerie designs, much to the horror of my family. They couldn’t understand why a nice girl like me didn’t design something respectable like wedding dresses. Yet most of my cousins and several of my aunts secretly commissioned me for a Kalli Original.
It didn’t help that Jaz was a hot-blooded South American, with her supermodel mother’s looks and her banker father’s head for business. She had dated half the men in town. To say my family thought she was a bad influence would be putting it mildly. But I didn’t care. I adored Jaz, and I loved what I did for a living.
“Condition smition. No one in our family has that,” my mother broke into my thoughts. “I’m telling you it’s just a phase.”
“I’m adopted, Ma,” I said wearily. “Remember?”
“You’re mine, and that’s what matters. Besides, you’re all I’ve got. Remember?”
And just like that the same old guilt stabbed through me. My parents were the only Ballas members who couldn’t conceive. As their only child, they were desperate to “fix” me and marry me off to the first available Greek boy they could find. Since Detective Nikos Stevens had moved to town, they’d been on a mission. I hadn’t met him yet, but I’d heard he was only half Greek.
Apparently that was Greek enough.
“What’s that? You’re breaking up, Ma. Bad connection. I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I backed up and reached to the side to shut off my phone before my head exploded from the headache she’d given me, and then I lost my footing. Arms wind-milling, I stumbled back, hit the railing, and watched my feet flip over my head in a back somersault.
As if in slow motion, I felt weightless, sort of like flying. Cool air rushed past me as gravity took over and I fell one story down, landing flat on my back with a whoosh in the center of the store below. My head hit hard, and I felt like something popped internally. A high-pitched ringing clogged my ears, stars danced before my eyes, and I couldn’t breathe … then everything faded to tunnel vision as the world around me went black.
“Kalli! Oh my God, Kalli! Talk to me, honey. Can you hear me?” echoed someone in the distance.
Expensive perfume that smelled like exotic flowers on a tropical island drifted to my nose. My lips parted, and I finally sucked in a much needed breath of fresh spring air blowing in from the open windows. Where was I? A car’s horn honked from somewhere outside, sounding much closer as the ringing in my ears faded a bit. Oh, yeah. I was in Jaz’s clothing shop. The metallic taste of blood coated my tongue from where I’d bitten it seconds ago.
I felt someone grab my hand and heard, Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have let her work up there. She’s not the most graceful person. Her mother’s gonna kill me.
“I can hear you, you know,” I said with my eyes still closed. “And don’t worry about her.” I slowly blinked my eyes open to find Jaz kneeling over me, her thick mass of honey-brown curls cascading down the front of her flowy designer dress more suited for a cocktail party than work as she held my hand. I cringed, and she immediately let go, backing up a step.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, averting her amber eyes, but then her exotic features puckered into a frown. “What are you talking about? Don’t worry about whom?”
“My mother.” I discreetly fished the hand sanitizer out of my crisp cotton suit pocket, admittedly more suited for an office job, and poured some into my palm then rubbed my hands together. She was party central, and I was practical. She had the flair and the head for business, while I had the creativity and the common s
ense. So vastly different from one another, yet somehow together we complemented each other perfectly.
“Your mother?” Jaz blinked at me for a moment, looking at me in the oddest way, but then she shrugged. “Are you hurt?”
I thought about her question. Was I hurt? Oddly, no. I had a whopper of a headache, but that could still be from talking to my mother. Except, I felt different. Tingly. I ran through concussion symptoms in my head three times, but I didn’t think that was it.
“I’m not sure,” I said as I carefully rolled to my feet. I ran a hand over my head and discovered my normal chignon had fallen loose. Sliding my fingers through my long hair, I lifted the ends to inspect the golden-blond strands, but didn’t see or feel any blood. Just a large lump on the back of my skull. “Nothing’s broken,” I said after testing my limbs.
“Maybe you should go to the doctor.”
I was already shaking my head. “No way. You know how I feel about doctors. I’m fine, seriously.” Jaz knew me too well. I was a bit of a hypochondriac, but doctors gave me more anxiety than worrying about my health. I preferred a more homeopathic approach.
She stared into my eyes, studying them closely as hers filled with worry and fear. “Pupils look normal and eyes as green as ever. I don’t think you have a concussion, but you are so lucky you didn’t hit any furniture. I’m just shocked you didn’t break your neck … or worse.” She closed her eyes and shuddered for a moment, then snapped them open with reprimand and anger now blazing within. “Are you crazy? You are not the most graceful person, you know.”
“So you’ve said,” I muttered.
She arched a brow as though she didn’t remember, but then shrugged that off and sighed. “What the hell happened, anyway?”
“My mother.” I held up my hands.
Jaz scowled. “Enough said. And you said not to worry about her. Ha!” She paused, the fire leaving her as quickly as it had appeared. She bit her full bottom lip and then blurted, “So, um, since you seem to miraculously be okay, are we still on for tonight?” She pouted her lips and fluttered her lashes in a way she had spent years perfecting.
“Wait, how long was I out?” I asked, still trying to process what had just happened to me.
“Only for a minute. So, what do you say?”
“I guess,” I grudgingly responded, realizing nothing had changed. So much for things being different.
“Great.” She clapped her hands then did a little dance—graceful being her middle name, I thought with envy. “Oh, chica, wait until you meet your blind date. You’re gonna love him.”
Envy shmenvy, I thought as my mother would say, my wistful smile evaporating instantly. “Don’t get excited. I’m not going to anything him. I only agreed to this double date so you wouldn’t have to meet your online date alone,” I hollered after her.
“Technicalities,” she called back as she salsa-ed her way through the clothing racks to the front of the store and flipped the sign to CLOSED.
Later that night, Jaz was running late as usual, so she’d asked me to go ahead and get us a table. I had agreed to her double date as a thank you for displaying my designs in her boutique. If it wasn’t for her connections, I never would have gotten discovered by Interludes. To think that my spring collection would be available next year in such a high-end store in New York City was a dream come true.
I owed her. I just never imagined a double date would be the favor she would choose, especially knowing how I felt about dating. At least she had agreed to a small restaurant on the outskirts of town, run by a woman I’d gone to high school with. My family was Greek, aka they owned half the eating establishments in Clearview. We chose to go to Rosalita’s Place, a small Mexican restaurant with great margaritas. I had a feeling I’d be having more than a few before the night was over.
After putting our names in for a table, I stepped outside in the cool evening air to wait for Jaz and catch my breath. Crowded places tended to get to me. Springtime in Connecticut was chilly, but dropping temperatures felt good. Nerves had set in big time, which was ridiculous because this wasn’t even a real date. This was just someone I could spend one simple evening with and then walk away, no strings attached and no feelings hurt.
Jaz had made me go for a bit more flair than my normal practical attire, insisting I had to help her make a good impression on Darrin, the online guy she’d been chatting with for way too short a time, if you asked me. She barely knew the guy. I’d agreed to a sexy green silk number from her store, which was way too short and low cut for my tastes, but then I insisted on leaving my hair up. I felt more in control that way. Besides, a hair could fall into my food, and that just wouldn’t do. I shivered simply thinking about it. Eating out gave me anxiety, so I only ate at places where I knew the kitchen was clean.
“Calm down, Ma. It’s just dinner.” A tall man with thick, wavy, coffee-colored hair, olive skin, and what looked like a heavily whiskered face even after a close shave came to a stop before me as he talked into his cell phone.
I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was kind of hard not to since he stood so close. Besides, the way he said “ma” had me riveted. He raised his eyes, and the most piercing blue I’d ever seen locked onto mine. I choked on a breath mint, then looked away, feeling like a fool.
I just hadn’t expected that striking color is all. He began to pace, his earthy cologne caressing me in ways that made me most uncomfortable. I saw him look at his watch out of the corner of my eye while I pretended to inspect a hang nail and tried not to squirm. The guy didn’t have a clue about personal space, something I was a stickler about.
“Just stop, okay?”
I blinked at him, startled, until I realized he was still on the phone and not talking to me.
“We’ve had this conversation over and over,” he went on. “I’m thirty. I think I can handle my love life on my own. I have to go now … yes … no … good-bye, Ma.” He shut his cell phone off completely and slipped it into the pocket of his gray sport coat. Parting the lapels, he loosened the tie over his baby blue dress shirt then dropped his large hands to his jean-clad hips. His eyes met mine once more, and I couldn’t help notice how thick and long his lashes were. What on earth was wrong with me?
I smiled uncomfortably.
“Mothers,” he muttered.
“Crazy species,” I responded.
“They should have a warning label that says proceed with caution.” He grunted.
“That says it all.” I rolled my eyes.
We both laughed, and I relaxed for the first time that day.
His smile dimmed, and his jaw hardened a bit as though he was clenching his teeth. “More like she says it all. Over and over and over. She’s relentless.” He stared off like he was speaking to himself.
“For what it’s worth, I feel your pain,” I said gently, bringing his gaze back to my own. “Mine won’t take no for an answer even when I already have a date.”
“Mine, too.” He nodded. “It doesn’t matter how far I move, she finds a way to interfere with my life.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, mister.” I held a hand over my heart.
“Amen to that.” He smiled a genuine smile this time that softened his chiseled features in a most appealing way. “Well, I’d better not keep my date waiting. Don’t want to make a bad first impression.”
“Something tells me you’ll do just fine.” I gave him a genuine smile back, and he lingered as though he didn’t want to leave.
Standing up straight and inhaling a deep breath, he finally said, “Well, thank you for that. It helps. And good luck to you. Is your date inside?”
“You know, I’m not sure. I suppose I should check,” I forced the words out, sounding less than excited to my own ears. “Don’t want to make a bad first impression, either,” I added, swinging my fist through the air in a non-verbal yay that I so didn’t feel.
“Something tells me you’ll do more than just fine.” He winked as he opened the door and held it. “
After you.”
“Thanks.” I stood, thinking here was a man I wouldn’t mind sharing a conversation with over dinner, but I knew it wouldn’t work out. It never did.
I walked inside the southwestern-themed room and headed to my empty table, feeling suddenly nervous again. I couldn’t believe I was still the only one there. One thing was for sure, Jaz was in big trouble. I planned to clue her into that the second I saw her. In the meantime, I sat down and watched the attractive nice man I’d just met stop and speak to the hostess. It dawned on me that I’d never even gotten his name.
Seconds later, Jaz walked in, looking as fabulous as ever in a dazzling red number that should have been illegal. A huge smile spread across her face, and she marched right up to … to him. My shoulders slumped a bit as she hugged him hard. He must be her online date. A small twinge of jealousy pinged through me. Not so much because she got to go out with him, but because she could date at all. Once guys found out about my “quirks,” they lost interest pretty quickly.
End of romance.
I’d learned not to set myself up for that kind of disappointment any more. This time was no exception. I pasted a bright smile on my face when I realized they were headed my way, deep in conversation. When they reached my table, the man’s eyes met mine once more and then sprang wide with pleasant surprise and curiosity.
Jaz bit her bottom lip like she had earlier, which usually meant she was up to something—not a good sign—and then she went for it. “Kalliope Ballas, meet your blind date, Detective Nikos Stevens.”
His curiosity turned to shock followed closely by disbelief. My smile faded as my jaw unhinged. Jaz wasn’t just in big trouble … she was a dead woman. No wonder my mother had stopped calling the shop. My blind date wasn’t someone I could spend one simple evening with to pay off a debt and then walk away. Oh, no. That would be way too easy. This wasn’t just any date …
This was my mother’s nice Greek boy!
CHAPTER 2
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Peril for Your Thoughts (Mind Reader Mystery) Page 1
