by Kate Baray
Spirelli Paranormal Investigations
Episodes 1-3
KATE BARAY
Copyright © 2015 Catherine G. Cobb
All rights reserved.
Cover by Viola Estrella
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
DEDICATION
Spirelli Paranormal Investigations | Episode 1
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
EPILOGUE
Spirelli Paranormal Investigations | Episode 2
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
EPILOGUE
Spirelli Paranormal Investigations | Episode 3
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
EPILOGUE
Excerpt | Spirelli Paranormal Investigations | Episode 4
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Also by Kate Baray
DEDICATION
For Dad
Spirelli Paranormal Investigations
Episode 1
CHAPTER ONE
Jack fiddled with the inner workings of his ancient cash register. He needed a newer machine to better track sales, because—surprisingly—The Junk Shop actually had a few sales to track. Who knew boxes of garage sale rejects would be so popular? The store hours were erratic, and the stock ranged from recycled trash to bizarre trinkets, yet the store still received stellar online consumer reviews. It didn’t have a website. So how did the yuppies, hipsters—whoever the hell was writing the reviews—find it?
“You know, that car outside looks like it needs a little work. I might know a guy, if you’re interested.”
Five foot and a lot, the woman attached to the voice would be hard to miss, with her fiery red hair and overly bright green eyes. Jack left his barstool perch behind the counter and had a long look at her. He’d missed her entering the store, and her voice had startled him. Quite a task, considering he had a tight ward on the store. And he was hardly an unobservant guy.
“How can I help you?” Jack worked to produce a convincingly relaxed tone.
Face expressionless, the redhead said, “I’m here to apply for the position.”
“We’re not hiring at the moment.” When she didn’t reply and she also didn’t leave, he added, “Look around. We’re a small shop, but maybe something will catch your eye.”
Sure, The Junk Shop was a retail location, but it had begun primarily as a front for Jack’s work with the magic-using community. A discreet physical location was a bonus when meeting with clients who wanted to stay under the radar. He looked around the small store. For a front, it was becoming increasingly and uncomfortably popular.
She looked around. “Uh-huh. I’m not here for . . . bric-a-brac. I’m sure you’ve got a position open. My sources are excellent.”
Jack hadn’t posted the position. Where would he? He could just imagine how that ad would read. Wanted: Paranormal investigator’s assistant. Complete discretion and some ass-kicking required. Part-time help in The Junk Shop mandatory. A high tolerance for the unexplainable preferred. No.
And Jack had only mentioned to a select few that he was looking to hire: his highest-ranking Inter-Pack Policing Cooperative contact, Harrington; the Texas Pack leader, John Braxton; and IPPC’s temporary chief of security for the Prague library, Ewan Campbell.
“Who’s your reference?”
“My stealth entry into the store wasn’t reference enough?” She gave him a toothy smile.
That smile made him incredibly uncomfortable. Green eyes, creepy feeling—alarm bells were ringing. Fuck. His stealthy, green-eyed Amazon was a dragon. He’d bet cash on it. He stared back without answering.
She shrugged. “Lachlan McClellan, but that might not be entirely to my benefit when you check my references.”
“Head of the McClellan clan?”
The guy led a powerful clan of dragons, but he was also a dick with a crap sense of humor. And Jack didn’t see him being particularly enlightened about female employees. Although he was surprised Ewan had mentioned Jack’s staffing needs to his clan leader.
She hesitated before responding. “We’re from the same clan.”
Oh, fuck—dragon. He knew it. “You want the job?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m here, having this conversation with you.”
Her non-answers were annoying as hell. More importantly, he didn’t see them becoming less annoying with time and proximity.
“Pass.” Jack turned back to the register.
“Wait. Yes, I would like the job.” She continued to speak to his back. “Please. I would very much like this job.”
Slowly Jack turned around. “Then tell me why I should hire you? Besides your stealth entry into a warded store. That only tells me you’re a thief.”
A brief flicker of fiery green flashed in her eyes, but quickly dimmed. “I’m unemployed and unable to return to my previous employer, which makes me highly motivated to be successful here. Also, I understand you’re looking for muscle. My combat skills are excellent.” She blinked. “I can demonstrate.”
She gave him another smile with just a shade too many teeth.
“No thanks. A dragon kicking my very human ass isn’t much of a demonstration. Besides, I’d hate for us to break my bric-a-brac.” Jack sat down behind the counter and picked up a pen. Having a dragon would be a huge tactical advantage in most fights, regardless of technical competence.
“Talk to Lachlan. Whatever else he might say, he’ll tell you I’m honest and hardworking.” She placed a slight emphasis on “honest.” She swallowed, the first sign of nervousness she’d displayed since walking into his store. “Please.”
Apparently he’d hit a nerve when he’d compared her to a thief. A highly motivated, well-connected dragon employee—he’d be an idiot to walk away just because she wasn’t exactly right. Especially since he didn’t know what “exactly right” was. What type of person wouldn’t drive him nuts with continuous contact? The shelf life of most of his relationships, regardless of the type, was pretty short.
“What’s your name?”
“Marin.” She didn’t offer her hand.
Jack knew the right answer, yet still he hesitated. Damn. He had a job coming up day after tomorrow that could use some dragon muscle.
“All right, Marin. Come back tomorrow at ten. If your reference comes through, we’ll discuss employment terms.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t pay well.”
She ducked her chin once in acknowledgment and headed out the door. This time, Jack saw her pass through the ward, and a shower of green sparks, visible only to him, fell in her wake. He felt a corresponding pinch from the ring he wore on his right hand. No way he’d missed the ward triggering when she’d first entered the store. If this whole thing worked out and she joined Spirelli Paranormal Investigations, that was one of his first questions.
Jack picked up his cell and scrolled through his contacts, looking for Ewan’s number. Jack was pretty sure Ewan would put him in touch with Lachlan. After a quick mental calculation, adding seven hours to account for Prague time, Jack decided it wasn’t too late and dialed Ewan’s number.
Ewan answered on the first ring. “Jack. What’s up?”
“Hey, Ewan.
Any chance you could put me in touch with Lachlan? I had someone come by the shop asking about that assistant’s job. Remember, I told you I was looking for someone? Lachlan came up as a reference.”
“Sure.” Background noise filtered in. “Heads up—you’re on speaker.”
“Thanks, man. You might actually know her; she’s from your clan. A tall redhead named Marin?”
The background noise abruptly disappeared. Ewan must have turned the speaker function off and picked up his phone. “Yeah.” The word came out so short, it almost sounded like a grunt.
Something about Marin had drastically changed the tone of their conversation. Jack contemplated for a split second whether to ask. He closed his eyes. Had he lost his mind?
After a few seconds of silence, Ewan said, “Marin is my daughter.”
Jack sat on his favorite barstool, the one positioned in front of the shop’s register. Careful to make his tone as neutral as possible, he said, “I didn’t know that.”
“Clearly.”
Jack didn’t get it. Ewan seemed pissed, but the guy hadn’t said a word about not hiring his kid. Since Jack wasn’t eager to get singed or mutilated due to an unfortunate miscommunication, clarification was the wisest course. “So, are you telling me you don’t want me to hire her?”
“Not at all.”
Jesus. Really? Jack rolled his shoulders. “Are you telling me you want me to hire her?”
“What did you want to know?” Ewan’s voice had lost some of its edge.
“Uh, okay.” Jack figured Ewan had enough patience for about two questions, so he erred on the side of caution and limited himself to one. “Would you recommend Marin for the job?”
“Yes. We done?”
Good enough.
“Yeah. Thanks again.” As he pocketed his phone, he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye.
Staring at the now empty shop floor, he said, “I know you’re there, little guy. You better be glad I know what rat poison does.” He couldn’t commit to chemical warfare—even in the pursuit of pest control. It was a weird quirk. Whatever. People who used rat poison must not know what that shit did to the insides of an animal. He snorted. Or they just didn’t like living with rats. “Fuzzball, you’re damn lucky I don’t actually live in this pit.”
Jack shook his head. He really needed to stop talking to the rats. It probably made them feel welcome. But he couldn’t resist one last warning. “You better not touch the coffee, Fuzzface.”
CHAPTER TWO
Jack’s ring tightened on his finger, interrupting his morning coffee ritual. He ignored the jingle of the front door bells and the flash of green light in his peripheral vision.
“You’re early.” Jack didn’t raise his voice. He figured dragons had good hearing.
A few seconds later, Marin joined him in his office at the back of the store. “Nice bells.”
Overkill maybe, but after Marin had surprised him yesterday they’d seemed like a good addition. “They were sitting around the store. That happens a lot, actually. I need something, have a look around, and there it is.”
“Really?” She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head.
“What? It’s a junk shop. It’s not like I keep great records on my stock. I buy most of this crap by the box.” He opened the small fridge under the coffee station and pulled out milk.
“Hmm.” She sat down in one of his client chairs. “And, by the way, I’m only five minutes early.”
“The front door was locked.” Jack tried to be pissed that she’d picked his front door lock, but he couldn’t quite work up to it.
Marin stared back at him without comment.
“And I haven’t had my coffee.”
She glanced at the half-empty pot of coffee.
“I’ve only had one cup of coffee. And quit being such a smartass.” When she didn’t apologize—as if he thought she would—he asked, “Would you like a cup?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He handed her a cup of black coffee. If she wanted milk or sugar, she was on her own. Once he’d sat down behind his desk, he said, “Minimum wage. Forty hours a week, no overtime, no benefits. You work in the shop or on cases, as I decide.”
“Minimum wage?” She looked amused, rather than worried.
If she wasn’t working for the cash, then why? He mentally thumped himself. Didn’t matter and he didn’t care. If it became relevant, then he’d worry about it.
“You came to me,” Jack reminded her.
“Yes.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. Closely trimmed nails, no polish—practical.
He waited. He could use her. Needed her, really. But he wasn’t about to start this relationship from a position of weakness.
Marin gave him an odd look he couldn’t interpret, then said, “If that was an employment offer, I accept.”
Jack opened a drawer and pulled out a few forms. He pushed them across the desk and handed her a pen. “You’re hired.” He turned his attention to his computer, trying to figure out the best travel options for the two of them and whether his travel budget would cover it. When he saw that she hadn’t yet picked up the pen, he said, “You’ve got five minutes to finish that. One of my gigs just got moved up.”
Marin perked up, clearly waiting for details.
Jack pointed to the paperwork. “Five minutes.”
Marin grabbed the pen and started writing.
Five minutes later, Jack figured driving was the only option. No problem—he’d just hired a driver. Sort of. And with Marin behind the wheel, he could get in some work.
Marin handed her paperwork to Jack.
“Any chance you have a go bag?” Jack asked.
She nodded.
“With you?”
“Yes.” Her eyes widened slightly, the only sign that she was dying of curiosity. She had to be. She was the type: one part puzzle geek, one part adventurer, and two parts control freak.
Great, his inner grumpy voice moaned. That meant four parts pain in his ass.
Stuffing her paperwork in his to-be-filed drawer, Jack said, “We’re headed to Louisiana.”
“Now?” She didn’t look ruffled as she asked.
“Now.” Jack left her sitting in his office while he went to the back to fiddle with the air conditioning. He wasn’t leaving the A/C running on high while he was gone.
On his way to the door, he called over his shoulder, “You coming?”
Before he’d flipped the sign to closed, she was standing behind him. Okay. Mental note: dragons are strong and fast.
As he locked the shop door, he told her, “We’re driving.”
Marin looked skeptical. “Uh, maybe I’m driving?”
“Oh, yeah. I have to work on the way.” He stopped when Marin fell behind. “What?”
She looked at his car parked in the street about ten feet away, blinked, and said, “I meant that we can take my car.”
Why was everyone so distrustful of his Jeep? The thing ran and ran. It was a great car.
“Which one’s yours?” He grinned when she pointed to a Range Rover Sport. “Done. Why am I paying you? Are you sure you don’t want to work as an unpaid intern?”
“Too late. You already hired me.” She raised her eyebrows slightly. “And I am not intern material.”
“Whatever you say.” Jack retrieved his laptop, go bag, and cell charger from the Jeep, then slammed the door shut. “SPI doesn’t pay mileage.”
“Spy? Ah, S.P.I. Spirelli Paranormal Investigations. Cute.” Her voice indicated it was anything but. Marin climbed into the driver’s seat. “As for mileage—I figured. But you’re definitely paying for gas. You have an address for me?” Her hand hovered over the GPS.
“Miersburg, Louisiana. I’m not sure where we’re staying yet.” Jack plugged in his cell charger and started charging his phone. Then he set up a hot spot and pulled out his laptop. “We’ll be gone overnight, possibly a few days. No dog at the house, right?”
“No d
og, no significant other, no roommate, and no plants.” Marin glanced at Jack. “I don’t suppose you’re planning to murder me, cut me into little pieces, and bury the parts in five states?”
“Only if you really piss me off.” Jack rubbed his neck. “Okay. Only if you really piss me off, I suddenly become fire resistant, and there’s zero chance of being hunted down by a pack of dragons and tortured in retaliation.”
“Uh-huh. It’s a clan of dragons, by the way. Or a flight or a weyr, not a pack. Bad idea to compare dragons to Lycan. It’s a sensitive topic.” As she spoke, Marin was slowly making her way out of East Austin and heading to the highway.
She didn’t look offended.
“Seriously?” Jack couldn’t resist asking. The dragons he’d met didn’t seem all that sensitive.
“Yup.”
Jack turned his attention back to the case file notes on his laptop. “So—SPI was hired to escort Charlotte Sneed, a Louisiana earth witch, on a shopping expedition in Austin.”
“Shopping. In Austin. She needed a bodyguard for that?” Marin tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “Never mind. Why are we driving to Miersburg for an Austin babysitting job?”
“Because the job has changed. Calvin Sneed, the client’s husband, contacted me this morning. His wife disappeared yesterday, and he’s refusing to contact local police. He’s asked us to find her. I told him he really needed to call the police, but that just made him more agitated.”
Marin snorted. Quietly, but it was unmistakable.
“I get it—her disappearance is likely related to the magic community or he wouldn’t have SPI looking into it.” Jack tipped his head back onto the headrest and closed his eyes. He hated complicated jobs. Bodyguard on a shopping trip in a town where he knew many, if not all, of the players in the magic-using community—that wasn’t complicated. He turned to look at Marin. “Don’t suppose you know anything about the magic-using community in Miersburg?”
Marin glanced at him then pulled her gaze back to the road. He took that to mean: Hell no, you idiot.
Eyes back on his computer, he said, “You have a lot of attitude for someone on probation.”
