by C. S. Poe
He smiled slightly, almost sincerely. “Figures. Of all fucking things to give me away.” Curtis stared at me from across the hall. “You found the treasure, then?”
“Oh yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yup.” I cleared my throat. “What now?”
“I can’t let you live,” Curtis answered.
“Like Cassidy and Peg?” I countered.
“I didn’t mean to kill Cassidy. It was an accident.”
“Peg wasn’t.” I squared my shoulders. “The cops told me she’d been strangled to death.”
“The cops,” he repeated, a hint of mocking in his tone.
“That’s right.”
“You should have brought them with you tonight, Aubrey.”
My belly felt like it was on the loop-the-loops of a rollercoaster. I was nauseous and my knees were shaking. “I’m not going to lie down and die for you.”
“No?”
“You’ll have to catch me first.” And with that, I threw the lantern at Curtis and ran for the stairs.
I heard the crash of the lantern above as I practically flew for safety, feet barely touching the stairs as I moved to the next step. Curtis’s thundering feet rattled the stairs as I reached the second floor. I didn’t turn, didn’t look back. I ran down the hall and threw open the back balcony door. On Wednesday night, after stumbling over Cassidy, when I’d heard Curtis make his escape but was unable to follow, he’d climbed the porch and shimmied down the nearest palm tree to the ground. Now I was about to find out if I could master the same technique. I figured, since my life quite literally depended on it, I’d manage.
I ran onto the porch, throwing the rocker to the floor behind me to slow Curtis if he decided to follow this way, but as I climbed onto the railing and chanced a look over my shoulder, I saw Curtis pause in the doorway before heading to the first floor to cut me off.
Good.
I took a quivering breath and jumped from the second story porch. I slammed into the palm tree and nearly lost my grip before I wrapped my legs tight around the trunk.
Holy Mother of Fuck, what was I thinking?
I swallowed hard and started to shimmy down as quickly as possible, awkward to do as I still clutched the dagger in one hand. When I was close enough to the ground, I jumped safely to the porch. I tripped and fell to my already bruised and scraped knees, swearing loudly as pain shot all along my nerves. I struggled back to my feet.
“Don’t move, Aubrey,” Curtis said, walking out the back door with his pistol aimed at me.
I froze in place. Not a twitch, not a breath.
Curtis cocked the weapon. “I’m sorry about this. I really am.”
“I think you’re full of horseshit,” I managed.
“It’s a million dollars,” Curtis replied, like I’d agree to him offing me if he just explained it a bit more.
A second gun came into view, pressed against the side of Curtis’s head. “You’re under arrest,” Jun said. “Lower your weapon, now.” He was wearing a jacket that identified him as Key West police, since he didn’t have his FBI gear, but it worked in a pinch.
The standoff lasted maybe another second. Or a minute. Hour? Who fucking knew? All I was concerned about was that there was one gun too many in this triangle of potential death.
But Curtis slowly lowered his gun.
“Drop it,” Jun ordered.
Curtis did.
Tillman came out of the bushes on the right side of the porch with a pair of handcuffs. He snapped them on Curtis’s wrists and started giving the dumb fuck his rights.
Jun glanced at me, the briefest once-over to make sure I was alive and not bleeding profusely, before he moved to join Tillman.
But a gunshot rang out, loud like a crack of thunder during hurricane season. I jumped and put my hands over my ears instinctively, then scanned the area frantically, desperately. Where’d that come from?
Curtis dropped to his knees and fell sideways, blood pooling around him.
Tillman turned to the back door, gun raised, but then I watched him fly off his feet, hitting the porch hard as another crack echoed across the property.
“Drop your weapon!” Jun shouted, raising his gun as Herb appeared from the shadows.
Herb?
Semiretired, waiting to die, crappy tour guide, porno-stash Herb?
“Never let a kid do what you can do yourself!” Herb shouted. He cocked his antique gun and fired point-blank at Jun.
It was like slow motion horror as his body jerked violently and fell.
“No!” I screamed.
I saw red.
Nothing but raw, sheer fury coursed through my veins.
I wasn’t going to lose Jun to this fucking pirate treasure.
I couldn’t let myself become the modern-day Rogers.
I raised the dagger still clutched in my hand and threw it with every ounce of strength and ferocity I had within me.
Chapter Sixteen
I STOOD in front of a new tombstone. The earth was still freshly packed. The morning air held that sweet, cool scent of disturbed soil that I imagined existed deep in the wildest of forests. And like a forest, besides some birds chirping nearby, it was quiet.
Some vacation this turned out to be.
I blinked back a few rogue tears and wiped my nose on the back of my hand.
“Indy.”
I glanced up, shielding my eyes from the morning sun as I looked at Jun. “What?”
“You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He stroked my hair for a few moments before handing over a bouquet of fresh flowers. I took it with a murmur of thanks and set it in front of the slab of granite.
“You did right by them,” he said.
“I hope so.”
Jun put his arm over my shoulders and pulled me closer until I wrapped myself around his back and chest, giving him a tight, sideways hug. “You did,” he said again. “You fulfilled both of their wishes.”
Thomas J. Smith had been identified by the local medical examiner, based on the physical facts we had on the former sea captain and part-time pirate king. After discussing it with Ms. Price and the rest of the nonprofit board, they all agreed to paying the expenses for him to be laid to rest in the local cemetery, based on his last wishes. More importantly, we had a lengthy chat with the city of St. Augustine and the museum that had been entrusted with Rogers’s estate, as he had no living relatives, and Edward’s body had been moved down to Key West. So Jun and I ended our vacation by paying respects to the couple, finally together after over a hundred years, one treasure hunt, and a few murders later.
“How’s Tillman?” I asked after we’d both been silent for a while.
“He’s doing fine. Recovering nicely.”
I hugged Jun a bit tighter.
Herb had shot him without a second of hesitation last week, and in those horrifying seconds that followed, as I watched Jun fall, I thought I’d lost him. Thank God his vest did its job underneath the jacket he’d worn. And as for Herb….
“Herb?” I asked.
“He had a tetanus shot prior to being stabbed with that dagger.”
I grunted. “Good thing.” Did I sound bitter and sarcastic, or was it just me?
Jun tightened his hold. “He’ll be going to prison.”
“I wish Curtis was,” I muttered. “I mean, he should have paid for all he did. Dying was the easy way out.”
Jun just petted my head in response.
At what point other people began showing up in the cemetery, I wasn’t sure, but suddenly we weren’t alone anymore.
“Let’s go home,” I said. “Enjoy our last day together.”
Jun agreed, taking my hand as we left Smith and Rogers alone. “What will happen with all those pieces of eight you found in the room?” he asked eventually.
“The board is going through the lengthy process of laying claim to it,” I answered. “Florida has some whacky lost treasure laws they need to
get around to keep it.”
“I suppose they won’t toss some your way for all the trouble?” he asked, and I could hear the smile in his tone without having to look at him and confirm it.
“Ms. Price did mention a bonus was in my future.”
“Maybe we can take that trip to Japan sooner.”
I stopped and finally looked up at Jun. “I love you. Did you know that?”
Jun’s mouth quirked and his eyes did that little twinkly thing they do. “I did. But it’s wonderful hearing you say it.”
“I’ve been thinking, about… maybe moving back to New York.”
His hand tightened in mine. Just a little, but I noticed. “Really?”
I nodded. “Don’t get me wrong. Living in a tropical paradise is pretty sweet, and I love my job but… seeing you on a weekly basis seems way nicer than a few times a year.”
“Don’t give up everything for me, Aubrey,” Jun said gently.
“I gave it all up because of Matt,” I clarified. “This is me taking my life back.” I smiled. “Don’t you think?”
Jun put a hand on my jaw, holding it as he kissed me. “You’re sweeter than candy, Mr. Grant.”
“So are you, Mr. Tanaka.”
Jun took my hand again, and we continued toward the front gates. “You know,” he said. “Tillman got the ID of the caller leaving those harassing messages.”
“Curtis,” I muttered.
“No.”
I made a face. “Josh?”
Jun shook his head.
“For fuck—Herb?”
Jun stopped just inside the cemetery walls and looked at me. “They came from the landline in the Smith Home.”
“That’s not possible. Only the tour guides use that phone to call the gift shop. You know, if they need something and can’t leave the house unattended.”
Jun raised an eyebrow.
“And I got calls while the house was locked down by the police,” I continued.
“They came from inside the home,” Jun said again.
A shiver crept deep down, right into my bones, and I looked across the sea of headstones, picking out the flowers we’d left for the gentlemen.
It wasn’t possible.
Right?
More from C.S. Poe
Snow & Winter: Book One
It’s Christmas, and all antique dealer Sebastian Snow wants is for his business to make money and to save his floundering relationship with closeted CSU detective Neil Millett. When Snow’s Antique Emporium is broken into and a heart is found under the floorboards, Sebastian can’t let the mystery rest.
He soon finds himself caught up in murder investigations that echo the macabre stories of Edgar Allan Poe. To make matters worse, Sebastian’s sleuthing is causing his relationship with Neil to crumble, while at the same time he’s falling hard for the lead detective on the case, Calvin Winter. Sebastian and Calvin must work together to unravel the mystery behind the killings, despite the mounting danger and sexual tension, before Sebastian becomes the next victim.
In the end, Sebastian only wants to get out of this mess alive and live happily ever after with Calvin.
Snow & Winter: Book Two
Life has been pretty great for Sebastian Snow. The Emporium is thriving and his relationship with NYPD homicide detective, Calvin Winter, is everything he’s ever wanted. With Valentine’s Day around the corner, Sebastian’s only cause for concern is whether Calvin should be taken on a romantic date. It’s only when an unknown assailant smashes the Emporium’s window and leaves a peculiar note behind that all plans get pushed aside in favor of another mystery.
Sebastian is quickly swept up in a series of grisly yet seemingly unrelated murders. The only connection tying the deaths together are curiosities from the lost museum of P.T. Barnum. Despite Calvin’s attempts to keep Sebastian out of the investigation, someone is forcing his hand, and it becomes apparent that the entire charade exists for Sebastian to solve. With each clue that brings him closer to the killer, he’s led deeper into Calvin’s official cases.
It’s more than just Sebastian’s livelihood and relationship on the line—it’s his very life.
Readers love the Snow & Winter series by C.S. Poe
The Mystery of Nevermore
“The romance was sweet and hot, the mystery was well thought out and researched, and the ending was quite satisfying.”
—Joyfully Jay
“This book has an embarrassment of riches—an engaging plot that will hold your interest to the final page, two intriguing main characters with a sizzling sexual chemistry, a top-notch mystery with plenty of red herrings…”
—Gay Book Reviews
The Mystery of the Curiosities
“For mystery lovers, this is a must read full of action, suspense, danger, and a not-so-easy solving of the crimes.”
—The Novel Approach
“The attraction between Sebastian and Calvin sizzle off the pages. The author writes an interesting mystery and a wonderful love story… Pushes all my buttons…”
—Paranormal Romance Guild
C.S. POE is an author of gay mystery, romance, and paranormal books.
She is a reluctant mover and has called many places home in her lifetime. C.S. has lived in New York City, Key West, and Ibaraki, Japan, to name a few. She misses the cleanliness, convenience, and limited-edition gachapon of Japan, but she was never very good at riding bikes to get around.
She has an affinity for all things cute and colorful and a major weakness for toys. C.S. is an avid fan of coffee, reading, and cats. She’s rescued three cats, including one found in a drain pipe in Japan who flew back to the States with her. Zak, Milo, and Kasper do their best on a daily basis to sidetrack her from work.
C.S. Poe can be followed on her website, which also has links to her Goodreads and social media pages. She can also be followed via her email newsletter on the website.
Website: www.cspoe.com
By C.S. Poe
Southernmost Murder
SNOW & WINTER
The Mystery of Nevermore
The Mystery of the Curiosities
Published by DSP PUBLICATIONS
www.dsppublications.com
Published by
DSP PUBLICATIONS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
www.dsppublications.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Southernmost Murder
© 2018 C.S. Poe.
Cover Art
© 2018 Reese Dante.
http://www.reesedante.com
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact DSP Publications, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dsppublications.com.
ISBN: 978-1-64080-076-2
Digital ISBN: 978-1-64080-077-9
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017911501
Published January 2018
v. 1.0
Printed in the United States of America
