“You have less than a month,” stated Chester. “I’m selling this God forsaken place to recoup my money. I don’t want to come back here ever again.”
The message was crystal clear. The assignment had just begun. The Lamonts turned and headed back to their car.
They waited for the siblings to leave.
“Wow, that was a tad bit cold,” stated Tori.
“Yeah, you weren’t kidding.”
She started walking toward the large porch obscured by Spanish moss.
“Wait, where are you going?” Julian asked, grabbing her arm. Surely, his wife couldn’t be thinking of heading in there without all of their team.
“Come on, Jules. We need to get a feel for the place. When Beckett and Claire arrive, we can pick our rooms.”
Julian had to be insane.
Not only did he willingly stay, they were going to be bedding down in a place referred to as ‘The Killing House’.
Yep.
He’d officially lost it.
Quickly, he followed after his wife into the unknown. Julian began whispering a prayer to the Great Spirit and his father.
Someone was going to need to have their backs because God only knew what was watching them.
* * *
It had been a hellish flight. First, the screaming baby was enough to give anyone a headache. Then toss in the passenger who was wearing way too much cologne on the crowded plane.
If that wasn’t enough, Beckett had opted for the window seat and found himself trapped with Claire pressed to his side. Thanks to the larger male in the third seat, the woman between them had very little room.
So, being a gentleman, and an idiot, Beckett let her lean against him. Maybe it wouldn’t have been as bad if she didn't smell like heaven and feel even better. At one point, his arm had gotten a cramp and he had to place it over her shoulders to get blood circulating to it.
While she didn't say anything, Beckett did notice she took that simple motion as a way to move closer to him. It made it impossibly hard to think, and when her hand went to his thigh, he nearly died right there and then.
Damn it!
What the hell was he going to do now? It was hard enough to ignore how his body reacted before, but now, he knew what she felt like. Beckett knew her hair was so silky that he wanted to run his fingers through it.
He knew Claire liked reading romances.
For a while, he’d found himself reading over her shoulder as she flipped through her tablet.
She was officially an enigma.
When Julian hired him, he never mentioned his sister working there. Then, one day, she appeared and never left. He knew she was in the Navy. Beckett was well aware that the brothers thought she could kick their asses, and he’d heard Tori playfully arguing over which branch of the military was better, Army or Navy.
Yet, he never realized that she liked wearing pink, reading mushy romances where the man swept the woman off her feet, and smelled this damn good.
Well, holy shit!
This was a huge problem. The woman was nothing like she seemed.
Even when she waited for him to get out of the seat, he was befuddled. The woman carried her own suitcase, not expecting him to do it for her. Beckett had offered, because his mother raised him to be a gentleman, but Claire didn't want him to do it.
He didn't know what to think.
Was she a soldier?
A princess?
A private investigator?
He was all tossed up inside over what to think. Claire Littlemoon wasn’t the typical woman, and he was screwed.
Beckett said nothing the entire way thought the terminal. At their rental car, she held out her hand for the keys. “I’ll drive.”
He started laughing. “Uh, no you won’t.”
“Why not?” she asked, staring at him.
“Women suck at driving.”
“You realize that’s chauvinistic and total bullshit, right? I happen to be an excellent driver.”
“Yeah, well my wife…” He stopped. Everything in him went stone cold. “Get in. I’m driving.”
She was shocked by the icy snap of his tone. “Okay, Beckett. You can drive.” A part of her wanted to be mortified, but she didn't know what for. Was it for him? His attitude change? Or how she now saw why he disliked women and her so much. She had been right. It had been a woman who hurt him.
She softened.
They’d all been hurt in life. God knew she had too.
As he pulled out of the parking lot, he realized how big of an ass he’d just been. “Claire, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to just snap at you like that. You didn't deserve it.”
Instead of getting angry, she tried to prove his belief that all women were the same was wrong.
“It’s okay, Beckett. I’m not upset. We all have bad days. Today is just yours.”
He glanced over at her. “Seriously? That’s it. I just ordered you to get into the car and snarled at you.”
She smiled. “Yep, that’s it.”
Beckett relaxed when she didn't try to interrogate him. He really hated when his ex would do that. It had been ironic since he should have been doing that to her. After all, she was the one sleeping around--not him.
“Thank you, Claire.”
“Well, you’re not totally off the hook. I do want one thing since you were cranky.”
His guard went back up. Here it came. “What?”
“Can we try to be friends? It’s so much easier to work with someone when they don’t grimace every time you’re near. I’ll stay out of your way, but can we try to at least play nice?”
He knew she was right.
“Deal.”
At the stoplight, she held out her hand to shake.
Beckett immediately took the peace offering without thinking. The second his hand touched hers, his fingers came in contact with the old ring on her finger.
He should have known better.
The inside of the car wavered, and the panic filled him as the darkness came.
There was pain.
Death.
Anguish.
It sucked him in, making it hard to breathe.
Claire watched him go rock hard. His body stopped moving, and he appeared to be locked in stone.
“Beckett?” she asked, her hand still in his.
When he didn't reply, and the light changed, she touched his cheek. “Beckett, are you okay?”
Her fingers on his face drew his focus. The touch of her hand gave him enough strength to pull out of the trance.
Horns blared.
He stared down at her hand still in his.
Then, he yanked it away.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her hand running up and down his arm to offer reassurance. Claire had never seen anything like that before.
It was as if he was gone.
Now, he looked pale, felt clammy, and didn't look well at all.
“Yes,” he said, trying to regain his ability to focus. “I’ll be fine.”
That was a total lie.
Beckett Rand was scared shitless.
“What happened?” she asked, staring down at her hand. The only thing there was the old heirloom on her finger. It had been a gift from her mother for her sweet sixteen. It had come from some auction on the Rez.
He didn't want to talk about it. Now came the hard part. Beckett needed to evade at all costs.
“Nothing.”
“Beckett,” she began, trying to get through to him. If he would just open up, she might be able to help him. If he wouldn’t talk, her hands were tied.
“Please, Claire. I can’t. Don’t make me.”
His voice said it all.
Underneath the confusion, there was fear. She could hear it and feel the thick waves emanating from him. There was something scaring the hell out of him. Was it her? Had something happened when they touched?
“Okay, Beckett.”
Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a pack of tissues. Del
icately, she dabbed at the beads of sweat on his forehead. “You don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready.” From the look of panic etched into his face, that didn't appear to be anytime soon.
He stared over at her.
The line was drawn, and he knew it.
Claire was giving him time, but she wasn’t letting him back out of it. This was what he feared.
She’d started weaseling her way past his defenses.
Now he was in danger.
The truth was bound to be set free.
Then they’d all know what lived in him.
Beckett Rand was cursed and a freak.
~ Chapter Four ~
The Killing House
Well, Julian was pleasantly surprised. While the outside looked like a haunted house, the inside was well maintained and rather nice. It had old charm, lots of woodwork, and was obviously a show place in its time.
It didn't look spooky inside.
It looked elegant.
That was shocking in itself. Once more, judging the book by its cover had bit him in the ass. It didn't look like they would be roughing it while they stayed there.
Here was part of the silver lining.
“I can see why people bought this place,” Tori offered. “It’s really nice in here. Look at all that carved wood,” she stated, pointing at the grand fireplace across the foyer. “Someone put a great deal of time and money into this house. It was loved at one time.”
Julian agreed. “Yeah, from the outside I was questioning why anyone would pay this much money for this house, but the inside is definitely why. It’s kind of cozy.”
“Except people die here,” she teased.
He stared at her. “Victoria. Not. Funny. At. All.”
That made her giggle. Plus, when someone knocked and Julian jumped, she was even more entertained.
“Jesus,” he muttered. Already, Julian was on edge, and the case wasn’t even in full swing yet. He was pretty sure that by the end, he would likely have had a stroke.
How could he not?
Slowly, the door opened and in peeked Claire with Beckett not far behind her.
“Sorry that we’re late,” he offered. “It was a miserable flight.”
“You didn't miss anything,” Julian offered. When it looked like his wife was going to add something, he pointed at her. “Don’t do it, Victoria.”
She could tell he was riled up. Whenever her husband used her full name, she knew he was close to the edge.
“Yikes,” stated Claire, “this is some house inside.”
They agreed.
Beckett looked around. “It’s something all right. I wouldn’t want to live here if my life depended on it,” he offered.
Julian had bad news for the man. “Welcome home. I guess this is as good a time to tell you both that we’re going to be bunking here.”
Beckett turned to face him. “You better be yanking my chain.”
“No, I’m not, and if you want to add more misery to the situation, guess what they call this place?”
He couldn’t even begin to come up with a reply. Beckett was too freaked out about touching anything. In a house this old, he wouldn’t be able to freely move around. Everything here looked to have a history behind it, and he could feel the bad energy all around him.
Essentially, he was screwed.
Damn it!
Staying at a hotel would be far easier. In fact, being a sheriff was looking better and better. When he quit to find some excitement, he didn’t see this coming. Had he, there wouldn’t have been a career change.
Not in a million years.
Tori continued for her husband, “They have dubbed this mansion ‘The Killing House’.”
That was all that had to be said.
Beckett knew, then and there, that he was in serious trouble. If death had happened here, it was only a matter of time before his secret was out. Then, he’d be labeled a freak for the rest of his time with the Littlemoons.
Shit!
When he felt his heart beginning to pound, he glanced over at Claire. She was watching him with peaceful eyes. Instead of offering him calm, it did the exact opposite.
It stirred him up.
Why she mattered, or her opinion, eluded him. Yet, she did. Beckett didn’t want her looking at him in horror when the truth came out.
It was the last thing he wanted.
He had one shot left to get them out of there. While he hated to manipulate his bosses, he had no choice.
“Maybe we should stay elsewhere. If people are going missing, is it safe for a pregnant woman to sleep here at night?”
Julian thought the same thing.
Tori shut him down. “If we stay, we can work all hours of the night. If something sinister is going on here, we’ll figure it out. Plus, we won’t have to worry about a cover story. We can work undetected.”
Claire didn’t mind either way. She came from a culture of people who communed with the dead. If there were ghosts, she wasn’t afraid. After all, it wasn’t the deceased that could hurt you. It was definitely the living you needed to fear. As an ex-soldier, she knew that as fact.
“Are you scared?” asked Tori.
“Yes, I am. I’m also one to err on the side of caution when the unknown pops up. That’s the sheriff in me trying to be rational.” Yeah, and the chicken trying to keep his secret hidden.
Again, Julian was the same way. Only, he’d promised his wife they could do this. He was stuck between a rock and a divorce at this point.
“We stay,” he stated. “We have a box of possessions, which belong to Jeffery Lamont, so let’s break into teams and wander around before we go through them. Later, we can order some dinner and start pulling apart the last few days he was here at the house.”
“Is he dead?” Claire asked.
Julian shrugged. “All I know is that there is a swamp outside. If he wandered out there, he could have been dinner for a gator. One never knows.”
He tried to be rational.
It was his last shot at keeping calm. “Victoria, stay away from the swamp!” he added.
She ignored him. “Okay, let’s break up and start wandering,” Tori stated, knowing that her husband was on the edge.
“Stick together,” Julian warned.
“What’s the worst that can happen, bro?” Claire asked.
Julian didn’t want to think about it.
If he did, he’d surely go insane.
Upstairs, Julian and Tori scoped out the second floor. This appeared to be where the bedrooms were located. As they went from room to room, each one was a different color. It reminded Tori of gems. Each painted area was that of a deep, rich hue.
“I like this room,” she stated, pointing at the antique looking bed. The room was off by itself at one end of the hallway. “Can we stay here?” she asked.
Julian wished that this was creeping his wife out. What he really wanted her to say was that they were heading back to the B&B. After all, it had breakfast, a cozy atmosphere, oh, and no death.
“If we must.”
“You’re freaked out,” she stated.
He started laughing. “You think, Victoria Rose? This isn’t exactly how I pictured spending our anniversary. I saw a big bed in that fantasy, but there weren’t any spooky scenarios going along with it.”
She grinned at him. “Did you see spanking in that fantasy of yours?”
He laughed. “You’re asking for one, honey. I’m just about at the end of my rope. One more surprise, and you’re going to be paying for it.”
She faced him, moving into his personal space. “I love you, Jules. I can promise to stick by you in that massive bed.”
He loved how her lips were very close to his. Leaning in, he stole a kiss. “Okay. We can stay here, but now you have to act out some of my fantasies. This is twice now that you’ve used your womanly wiles to manipulate me.”
She snorted. “Oh, please. You wish.”
Yes, he did.
&n
bsp; “Crap,” she muttered, looking around.
“What?” Julian went on alert.
“There are a million places that artifacts can be hidden in this house. Look at all these walls. I’m betting there are a million loose floorboards. We’re never going to find them.”
He started laughing. “You’re right, because we’re not trying to solve this hundred year old scavenger hunt, Tori. We’re here to find one missing man. Once we do, dead or alive, we’re getting the hell out of here. This isn’t Mystery Inc, and we’re not Fred and Daphne. I have no intention of solving this.”
She giggled at his Scooby Doo reference. She often teased him by trying to get him to buy a Mystery Machine. “Come on, Jules. Think about it. We make a pretty cute sleuthing couple.”
Shaking his head, he couldn’t help but grin. His wife was being silly, and he loved it.
“Try as you might, we’re not looking for any riches. The house can keep them. For all I know, that’s what got these people in trouble. We’re doing a recovery and that’s it.”
“Yay, diving in the swamp.”
“HELL NO!”
Now she was enjoying herself. “Well, if he fell in…” Tori loved teasing him. When he ran his hands though his hair in frustration, it made Tori want to jump him.
She couldn’t help it.
Julian was sexy as sin, and she was carrying his child, plus a boat load of hormones.
“Aren’t you the least bit curious…?”
“No.” He cut her off.
“Jules.”
“No. I’m really not. If the hidden items have nothing to do with finding Jeffery Lamont, they’re staying a mystery. I gave in on working this case, Tori, but I’m not giving in on this. We can call this the end of the discussion, or fight about it.”
She threw in the towel.
Julian had a point. She’d already gotten him to stay. It was best not to push her luck--tonight.
“Okay. I’m with you.”
He lifted a brow. “That was easy.”
“You have a point. You compromised, and so will I.”
It was so nice to have her offer this up. Julian was already as nervous as hell. Anything else might push him over the edge into insanity.
Unthinkable Games (LIttlemoon Investigations Book 3) Page 7
