Frustrated, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and used the flashlight app.
“Bingo!” I finally found them, shoved my phone back into my pocket and looked at my front porch for the first time.
My jaw dropped, along with my keys. Right there on my front porch, next to the door, was a guy completely slumped over. And it didn’t take a doctor to see that he was dead. My gaze went from him back to the street. The way he was propped up, over by the railing and the big potted plants, no one would have seen him from the road. Or if they were able to see some of him, he would probably just look like a blanket or something with just his jacket being visible in the dim light. Yet, it seemed crazy to just have a dead person go unnoticed on a pretty street lined with beach houses.
Mystic Hollow was a strange place.
My heart raced. I knew you weren’t supposed to mess with crime scenes, but what if the person wasn’t dead? What if they were drunk? Yeah, they could be drunk. They could have stumbled home from a bar mid-afternoon in a weird storm, one that I was ninety percent sure was magical in origin, then they wound up at the wrong house, couldn’t get in so decided to nap on the front porch.
Totally reasonable explanation.
Didn’t explain why his chest wasn’t rising and falling, but it was Mystic Hollow. Maybe he was a type of supernatural creature that didn’t need to breathe. They existed, right?
My fingers trembled as I reached ever closer for the man’s exposed neck, and then I carefully put my finger on his ice-cold skin. After a second, goosebumps rose over my flesh.
Yeah, he was dead. I was touching a dead person.
Biting back a scream unsuccessfully, I lunged for the keys that had fallen from my hand before righting myself and trying to shove the key in the lock, missing the first few times. The metal-on-metal scratching sound was enough to fray my already frazzled nerves. I couldn’t stop glancing at the man. My fingers felt strange, icy cold almost like they were remembering what it felt like to touch the man, like touching him had infected me or something. And it was spreading. Of course, that could just be shock as well, the logical side of my brain decided to pipe up when I least wanted to hear it. My heart raced and a scream tried to tear its way from my throat. I was just about to turn and run down the street like a psychopath, when I got my key in the lock, turned it, and threw the door open.
Turning my head for one last look at the body, I screamed for real this time.
Full on bloody murder. In the shower in Psycho kind of scream. Woke up from a nightmare and I lived on Elm Street kind of scream.
There was a ghost on my front porch. I know scary shows have depicted ghosts in a lot of different ways, but this man looked like an entirely grey, slightly glowing, version of any other man. His hair was as dark as his eyes, which was to say, about the color of pitch, and his age was hard to guess, but perhaps he was in his late forties. He drifted just a foot or so off the ground, his pose casual, almost touching the body below him. It was hard to tell much about him since he was slightly blurry, like he had a permanent photo filter on, but it was definitely the guy on the ground. I just had no idea who he was.
I held my breath in an attempt to stop myself from screaming even more. So, ghosts were real too? Perfect. Just perfect.
But could it hurt me? Or was it just going to suddenly vanish into the unknown? Or could it possess me and turn me into a puppet for its own amusement?
“You’re in big trouble,” the ghost said in a singsong voice, shattering the silence.
I screamed again, just as loud, long, and blood curdling as before, and it was like everything hit me at once all over again. The note, the body, the ghost. It was too much. Running inside, I slammed the door, not stopping for a second. I headed straight for my bedroom and slammed that door, too. Ghosts were real. Ghosts could talk. And there was a dead guy on my porch, oh, after receiving the note and almost being scared to death by a teenage shifter. Worst day ever.
None of this was good. Someone should’ve warned me about all of this. There should be a handbook. Not for the recently deceased, but for the recently inducted into the supernatural. Each creature could come with a description and state like a football player or a D&D character.
I heard a creak in the house. Heck, could the ghost just drift inside? Uh, probably. Walls likely didn’t stop spirits. That made sense.
Unfortunately.
I yanked my phone back out, hands shaking. I was fairly sure the neighbors would be calling the police after the sounds I’d just made. Not that I cared really, I needed serious help, and I needed it pronto.
3
Daniel
My nose caught a scent I’d never picked up before. Given the fact that I was deep in my family’s land, there shouldn’t have been any scents belonging to any shifters, besides my own of course. The wolves sometimes drifted over the property line a little, but I didn’t mind as long as they didn’t come too far in.
This was different. The smell wasn’t a wolf or any other shifter I knew of. Just like humans could hear a voice and know who it belongs to, even if they don’t see them, shifters in a town this small got accustomed to each other’s scents. I didn’t believe there was one among us I wouldn’t be able to identify within seconds. Which meant this scent didn’t belong to one of the shifters in Mystic Hollow. It was a stranger, one who was cocky enough to step into an unknown bear’s territory.
Growling low in my throat, I moved my bulky body and followed the scent with my snout close to the ground. I had to find whoever it was and let them know in no uncertain terms they weren’t welcome here.
Other shifters should’ve known better. They should’ve smelled me and given me a wide berth. As a bear shifter, we were top dogs so to speak. Wolves might be fast and fierce, but an angry bear? That was a whole other level. Even a pup would scent a bear’s territory and run the hell away. Not that I’d be rough with a pup, but I would carry it straight back to its mama, mostly because it’d need to learn the lesson. Not all bears were as forgiving as I was.
But this scent. It wasn’t a pup. There was something… off. Something my bear instincts screamed to be wary of. Whether it was the beast within me that was nervous, or the ex-sheriff part of me, I had a feeling that whatever shifter brought this scent would be trouble.
Following the scent took me close to my truck. Which was a surprise. I would have thought even a foolish person wouldn’t do more than skirt the outlying areas of my land. But to come close to my home? To property clearly marked, even by human standards. Whoever this was, I didn’t trust. Not when they were so clearly willing to flout property lines, legal and otherwise.
When I passed within a few yards of the truck, my sensitive bear ears picked up the sound of my cell phone ringing. I stopped short, trying to decide which should be my priority. I didn’t get many calls, so when I did, they were usually pretty important. But this cocky shifter would also need to be dealt with.
Snuffing air out of my snout in frustration, I ambled toward my truck. I’d never make it in time to answer the phone, but I’d call back whoever it was. Then, I’d go after the strange scent.
Beside my truck, I shifted back into my human skin, feeling my bones crack, and my shape shrink. Yeah, I was big for a man, but my bear was bigger. In life, I always felt like I was towering over people, but not just because I was tall, it was as if everything in our world was made for people half my size. But the only time I felt delicate as a human was after I shifted out of my bear form. Then, and only then, I seemed too small for this world.
Opening my car door, I picked up my phone, which sat on top of my clothes on the seat of the truck. I fully expected a call from one of the wolves. Even though their alpha was still reluctant to accept my help after his father’s death, he had reached out more lately. Usually by text though, which was the young wolf’s way.
But to my surprise, the call had been from Emma. My heart immediately began pounding at the thought. My mind called up an image of her. For
so long when I thought of Emma, it was of the shy, young girl I knew before she left, with the kind of smile that made a man feel weak in the knees. Now though, that image was replaced with a better one. Her now, with crinkles at the sides of her dark eyes when she smiled. How she’d touched her black hair in a way that reminded me so much of the girl she had been, a gesture that was nervous and spoke of a woman who had no idea how beautiful she was.
And yet, she didn’t exactly call me often. My smile faded a bit. She’d called me for one of two things. Either she wanted to go out on a date, and hopefully that was it, or she was in some kind of trouble. So far, this little woman seemed to be chased by trouble. And as much as I thought I was enjoying my semi-retirement; I’d take any amount of excitement or danger if it brought me closer to her.
As long as she was safe.
I hit the button to call her back and put it on speaker as I pulled on my boxer briefs and began to dress. “Emma?” I asked when she answered. “How are you?”
“Hey, Daniel, thank you for calling me back so quickly. I’m in a bit of a pickle here. Could you come over?”
She sounded worried and upset. My heart pounded even harder as adrenaline pumped through my veins. “Of course. I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you, uh, hang on.” Her voice sounded far away, then she said something in the background I couldn’t make out because I’d bent over to yank on my boots. What shitty timing that this happened when I was way out in the woods instead of in town.
Jumping into my truck, I turned around on the narrow path while I waited on Emma to come back to the phone. Usually, I took the dirt paths on my property slowly, but this time I went a little faster. Some instinctual part of me wanted Emma to know that I would be there, any time she needed me, any time she called. Whether it was the bear in me or not, I felt like the most important thing for her to know is that she could count on me. If she didn’t believe that, if we didn’t build whatever this thing between us was on a foundation of trust, I had a feeling it would crumble.
And this old heart of mine couldn’t lose another woman I loved. It’d be too much. And as much as bears were said to be solitary creatures, I knew that would be the thing to finally crush me. Just the idea of her giving that beautiful smile to another man made me grip the steering wheel so tightly that it made a little groan of protest.
“Daniel?”
“I’m here,” I called over the roar of the old truck’s motor.
“I’ve got to go, just come as fast as you can, okay?”
“Yeah--”
“Well, not too fast. Drive safely.”
My phone beeped when she hung up, so I didn’t have a chance to try to question her further. I glanced down at my phone, seeing the red phone icon on the screen seeming to mock me, before I looked back at the trail. There weren’t any other cars to be worried about out here, just animals and trees, and the animals were smart enough to stay out of my way. I pressed my foot on the gas pedal a little harder, pushing the truck to the top speed I was willing to go as I wove through the trees.
Damn it. Now I was worried.
I beat tracks getting there, and as I approached the house Emma lived in with her brother, police lights caught my eye. Oh, no. Is this what she called a pickle? I was kind of hoping she had something that was too heavy to pick up. Or something broken that needed fixing. A police presence suggested this was more than just a pickle.
But as long as she was safe, we could figure everything else out.
I pulled the truck up into the yard, so I wasn’t blocking anyone in, then rushed out to find Emma. Passing a couple of detectives, I didn’t know all that well, I went inside and found Emma sitting on the couch, talking to another detective. He nodded at me and stepped outside, knowing that unusual cases were sort of my thing. Along with talking to anyone in this town and getting information, I was often able to find out things from our people that the human officers hadn’t even thought to ask about.
Sitting beside her, I took her hand, though my instinct was to put my arm around her. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” she said, but she didn’t sound okay. There was a tremble to her voice that I didn’t like, one that spoke of fear. The last thing I wanted was for Emma to be fearful in Mystic Hollow.
That instinct to draw her into my arms and hold her tighter washed over me again until I was almost drowning in it, but instead, I just held her hand gently. I had held the hand of many victims. Many people who had come into the station had been scared over the years. I’d meant the gesture to be reassuring. But her hand just felt so small and so perfect in mine that for a second, I was distracted by it. And I never got distracted on the job
“It was awful. I got home and found a body. An honest to God body!” She shuddered.
Uh oh. A body? Murder wasn’t exactly something that happened often in a small town. Yeah, there was a lot of bloodshed between the supernaturals, but that was usually taken care of quietly. Bodies weren’t just tossed on people’s front porches.
This didn’t make any sense.
“Any idea who it is? Were there any strange signs?”
Emma’s gaze met mine, and she shook her head, but I could tell there was something she wanted to say to me. I sent up a silent prayer that she hadn’t gotten herself into more trouble. There was a lot I could help her with. Hell, I’d do anything for her. But this was something else. She was a magnet for strange and troublesome events and that was saying something for Mystic Hollow.
The sheriff walked in and gave me a look I was all too familiar with. It meant something had happened to change the case.
I lifted a brow. “What is it?”
“We identified the body. It’s Roger. Beth’s ex.”
Oh, crap. I was really hoping the dead person had no connection to Emma. Having a body at her house would look bad. But without that, the investigation into her would end quickly and cleanly. Nothing about having one of her friend’s exes murdered at her house would keep this thing simple.
“Beth’s ex?” Emma’s voice sounded small and scared.
I gave her hand a squeeze, wishing I could do more, but knowing it wasn’t a good idea with the sheriff watching. The last thing I wanted was to be pushed out of this case and not be able to help Emma, because the police thought I was too close to the possible suspect.
The sheriff turned his gaze toward Emma, who looked stunned into shock. “And it’s my understanding that you were yelling at him just a few days ago?”
Oh, man. Having it be her friend’s ex was bad. Having it be an ex with whom Emma had been seen fighting? My stomach twisted. If she’d had a fight with the man, she’d be at the top of the suspect list.
At last, she turned to me with big, wide eyes.
She looked terrified. What had she gotten herself into?
4
Emma
Sucking in a deep breath, I blew on the coffee again, eager for it to cool a little so I could gulp it down. It was the afternoon, but it felt like midnight… like I’d fought a jungle cat and the darn cat had won. Yesterday, I’d spent the rest of the night being questioned by the police until finally Daniel had chased them off to give me some peace and quiet so I could sleep.
Yeah, right. Like that had happened.
I’d barely slept a wink. Every creak or bump I heard was the killer coming back to get me or the ghost about to terrorize me and drag my soul to hell with it, because as callous as it may seem, I had no doubt that was where Roger was going to end up. It should’ve helped when I realized Daniel was positioned outside of my house in his truck, but it only added to my sense of unease. I went back and forth wondering whether or not to invite him to sleep inside or if that was inappropriate. I mean what if the killer did come back and attacked Daniel because he was there? I didn’t think I could handle that, but then I didn’t think I could have him sleeping on the couch either. Even though I went back and forth for hours, I ended up never inviting him in. There was some par
t of me that would have been too tempted to make a move on him if the big man had been in my house, which on top of everything else, would have been a disaster…
And then, this morning when I’d finally dragged ass out of bed, we’d been out of coffee.
Ugh! What a way to start the day. But, at least, not having coffee gave me an excuse to pick some up and head to Private Psych, Beth’s private detective business. I was almost in a decent mood until I sat down with my coffee, because the darn cat wouldn’t stop glaring at me like I was the one that murdered Roger. I knew that wasn’t what she was thinking, but Marble just had this way of making me feel like I was in her space. Which, I guess, I was.
“Enjoying the sunlight?” I asked the cat, who was lying in a patch of sunlight near the front door.
Marble’s glare seemed to deepen. “I was, until you got here.”
I snapped. “Oh, has it been so hard to sleep and eat all day?”
The cat began to lick its paw, stopping just long enough to say, “With whiny humans disturbing my relaxation. Yes, it has been hard.” She let out a small huff before going back to cleaning her paw.
Carol laughed, seeming to enjoy the banter as well as the coffee I picked up for her while I was on my way over. My promise of coffee had talked her into taking a short break from Yarns and Yards. If Deva had been there as well it would have been perfect, but morning was the busiest time of day for her business. Carol sighed and said, “You’re never going to have a pleasant conversation with Marble. She hates everyone, except for Beth.”
Karma's Shift (Magical Midlife in Mystic Hollow Book 2) Page 2
