My Paranormal Valentine: A Paranormal Romance Box Set

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Now it was my turn to be astonished. “That man used to be mayor?”

  “Oh, yes.” Her face lit up at the prospect of being able to confide in me. “It’s sad, really. His story that is. I feel even worse for Jo Jo. The boy hasn’t had an easy time of it, let me tell you.”

  “Really.” I had a feeling she was going to tell me whether I wanted to hear it or not. Luckily, I wanted to hear all about it.

  “It’s a doozy of a tale. Brady Corman seemed to have it all. Good looks, good marriage, or so we all thought. He was well-respected in town. He’s my age, you know. My husband and he used to run around together when they were teenagers.” Her voice grew quieter for a just-between-us-girls moment. “I had the biggest crush on him for the longest time when I was young.”

  I smiled at that. From the vision, seeing Brady in his prime, I could totally see Ruth finding him unabashedly handsome. “Never dated him?”

  “Oh, no.” She sounded scandalized, but she looked delighted. “He only had eyes for Rose, even then.” She sobered. “Poor man.”

  “Do you know what happened?” Even though I’d heard she’d run off, I wanted to hear Ruth’s version of Rose Ann’s story.

  “No one knows for sure, but the gossip is she ran off with a lover and never came back. Sometimes it’s hard to know what to believe.”

  I could tell Ruth was a believer, but she didn’t want to sound unfair. “Wow. That’s a tough pill to swallow.” And hard to imagine, from what I’d seen in the vision. She had definitely been a woman deeply in love with her man.

  “You’re telling me.” Ruth pulled up a stool at the counter and sat down. “Brady just never recovered. I’m afraid to the point of neglect in every other part of his life. His work, his house, his son…” She tsked.

  “I can’t imagine,” I said for lack of anything more appropriate.

  “I felt so bad for Brady. Rose Ann just went off like she was going to work one day and never came back.” Ruth pursed her lips. “She’d been working as Neville’s legal assistant in Lake Ozarks for several years. If she was running around on Brady, that’s where she would have met the guy.”

  “The mayor’s a lawyer?” That explained a lot about his slick personality.

  “Yes. He’s a nice man, though.”

  “You don’t think Rose Ann and him…” I let the question linger.

  “No, no. Nothing like that. Rose Ann went off while Neville’s wife was dying. I’ve never seen a man so devoted.”

  “Dying? Was she human?”

  “Lands, no. Maggie was a coyote, like him, but she had a type of cancer some of our kind are prone to get.”

  For a second, I was stunned. I’d never even considered the idea the therianthropes or lycanthropes could get sick. I’d somehow built into my mind they were more like the supernatural creatures of the movies.

  “I thought you guys were—” Immortal monsters? How could I phrase that in a way that wouldn’t be offensive?

  Ruth smiled wistfully as if she knew what was on my mind. “We aren’t like regular folk, in that we live a little longer. But we don’t live on forever, nothing much does. We can get sick and die just like everyone else.”

  “But you’re stronger, faster, and can heal most things quicker, right?”

  “Girl, you make us sound like comic book heroes.” She laughed. “But you’re mostly right.”

  “So, silver bullets? That’s not true?”

  Ruth rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it’d kill us just as dead as hot lead if it hit the right spot.”

  Another myth busted.

  I brought the conversation back around to Rose Ann Corman. I can’t explain why, but I knew she was somehow important. “So, not Neville then.” Neville being a widower made me feel more kindly toward him, and it made me feel a little judgmental. I’d assumed he’d had it all, money, power, friends, and good looks.

  “No, he wouldn’t have.” Her voice took on a note of conspiracy. “Not then, anyhow.”

  Whoa-ho. At least I hadn’t been completely wrong about the mayor. He might not have been strutting his stuff back then, but he was a total playa now.

  “Really?”

  “Heck, yeah.” She grinned. “I don’t want to be uncharitable, but about a year after his wife died, Neville started to really cat around, if you know what I mean. I don’t think he’ll ever settle down again.”

  “And Brady?”

  “Ed tried to help him out, but Brady just withdrew into himself. If it weren’t for Jo Jo, I don’t think anyone around here would give him much thought anymore.”

  “Jeez, that’s really sad.” My heart ached for Jo Jo, and Brady and Neville to some degree. They’d all lost so much.

  “Yes, it is. I thought him and Ed would always be friends,” Ruth said, gazing directly into my eyes. “But, friendships are like a garden. If you don’t work at cultivating them, and keeping the weeds down, they eventually die out.”

  I grinned. The analogy had been succinct, if a little cliché. “Then how about we get to planting our own little garden?” Placing my hand over hers, I added, “I’ll get the tea on.”

  “Great idea,” she said brightly. “So, tell me about yourself, Sunny. I only really know what Chavvie told me. I’m interested.”

  It was nice of Ruth to ask, whether she was genuinely interested or not. So, I told her all about growing up in a hippie commune, the lying, cheating ex-boyfriend, and how Chav had been there for me through the worst of it. Some of the stuff she’d told me made me a little more wary of the small-town culture. I was used to living in an anonymous world. I mean, sure, rumors could start in a small circle of friends in San Diego, but to have a whole town know your business fifteen minutes before you did was awesome and awful all at the same time. Ruth seemed to know just about everything about everyone. Although, it made me wonder, how come nobody seemed to have a clue about where Chavvah was?

  Neville Lutjen had been mayor for eight years, since the year after Brady Corman had fallen apart. They were both coyotes, she revealed. She and Ed were deer, which nearly surprised me as much as Sheriff Taylor being a raccoon. Delbert and Elbert Johnson were opossums. Sheila Murphy was a coyote, which duh, I could have guessed. Becky from Beck-E’s Bakery was the only bird in town, a red-tailed hawk.

  If I had to be an animal, a hawk wasn’t a bad way to go, though my feelings for Babel probably put me more in the cougar territory.

  The very large and boisterous Blondina, owner of Blonde Bear Cafe, and her three boys and daughter were none other than black bears. I’d be checking her roots the next time I went in for salad.

  We’d nearly talked about all the town people I’d met and a few I hadn’t met.

  “What about Billy Bob? He is a whole series of contradictions. How can a doctor with concrete knowledge of science be a spiritual leader as well?”

  “Oh, Doctor Smith. He’s something else, hon.” She raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Mighty fine-looking man.”

  I had to agree. “There is no shortage of hotties in this place.” I couldn’t help but think of Babel. Tall, broad, and a sensuous mouth he certainly knew how to use. His wild, thick hair drove me crazy as well. My mouth watered as a mental image of him naked played in my mind. “My lord, you guys know how to grow them right.”

  Ruth laughed. “The doc is such a nice man.”

  “Oh, yes. The doctor.” My train of thought had definitely jumped the track.

  “Very solitary, mind you. But you know, he delivered all of my babies. He’s got a great bedside manner.” She sighed for effect. “Oh, if I were a single woman.” Then she laughed again.

  “Well, I am a single woman, but I plan to stay that way for a while. I’m not into the whole ex-man-to-the-next-man thing.” Although it had been two years, and a new man would be less “rebound” and more “new game”. Either way, I didn’t want another relationship.

  “What about Babe?”

  I choked on a sip of tea and landed myself into a coughing fit. �
��What about him?”

  “Well, I just thought you two…Maybe I got it wrong.”

  “You thought wrong.” Not really. “There’s nothing between us.” Except for the mondo chemistry. I’d been around really good-looking men before but never had I felt so connected to any of them, so it wasn’t just his great body or pretty blue eyes. It couldn’t be. Possibly I was feeling transference. I was putting my affection for Chavvah on to Babel. Though, I’d never wanted to lick Chavvah from toe to top. Hmm.

  My body craved Babel in a way that made me feel like a bulimic in a grocery store. Maybe I was having a mid-life crisis and just reacting to attention from a young man. I wouldn’t be the first woman to have these desires. Hell, I probably wouldn’t be the first woman in town to have these particular fantasies about Babel.

  I refilled the kettle and put it back on the stove. “Why do you ask?”

  “Honey,” Ruth said. “Call it a gut feeling.”

  Jeezus, I thought I was psychic, but Ruth had intuition in spades over me. I shook my head. Babel was a passing fling, nothing more, and less and less fling-ish as time progressed.

  “I’m not interested in him,” I lied again. “Besides, he’s planning on moving back to the city, and I think he was seeing someone already before I got here.”

  Ruth’s mouth formed a perfect little “o.” Her mouth turned down at the corners only slightly in disappointed. “A girlfriend?”

  “No, not really. Oh hell, I don’t know.” I didn’t want to get into it. Thinking about Babel with that really awful woman made my stomach churn. I clenched my fist as I thought about ripping her hair out at the roots. I didn’t want to be the other woman, but it was hard to feel sorry for the cow. Or coyote. Whatever.

  “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Sunny. I’m sorry I asked.”

  “No, you’re fine. I don’t mind that you asked. More tea?” I offered.

  “Better not. My bladder’s near bursting.” She gestured toward the small bathroom in the corner of the restaurant. “Mind?”

  “No, of course not. Go ahead.”

  As I watched her trot over and close the door, I hoped to hell there was toilet paper in there, because I hadn’t checked. I supposed Ruth would let me know if she was without.

  As if Ruth’s exit was his cue, Judah came trotting out from behind the counter and whined, then walked back around. I followed him. His nose poked in and out of the baseboard of the display case. Frankly, it was disconcerting. We were having another

  Lassie moment. Whatever was under that board, Judah was working hard to get at it. I prayed it wasn’t a mouse. While I didn’t believe in cruelty to animals, rodents made my teeth hurt.

  He whined more, and I felt like a coward. Whatever lay under that board, he obviously thought it important. “Fine,” I huffed.

  I glanced over at the closed bathroom door and decided to act. I got down on all fours and pulled at the board. With very little prying, it came loose. The board was a little less dusty than its surrounding. I hadn’t been the first person to find it. It was too dark to see inside the small space, but I steeled myself and stuck my arm in, patting around with my hand. Cold metal chilled my fingers. The object wasn’t so big I couldn’t maneuver it around, and after a few moments, I managed to pull it out. It was a box; more exact, a cash tin with a locked front.

  Maybe Chavvah had put something in the box that would explain all the mysteries. I would find her, we’d catch who killed Judah, and Babel could leave. I felt sick to my stomach.

  “What’cha got there?”

  I startled at Ruth’s question. I’d been distracted by morose thoughts and hadn’t noticed her return. “Uhm, a box I found.” Stating the obvious.

  “Ooo,” she cooed. “I wonder what’s in it.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe money or something.” I didn’t really think so, but since I hadn’t told Ruth about Judah, I didn’t want this to be the way she found out.

  “Found money’s always the best. That’s why my husband and kids always make sure they check their pockets before giving me their laundry.”

  “There’s a locked latch on it.”

  “No problem.” She pulled a bobby pin from the back of her hair. A little strange considering she was wearing it down.

  I raised my brow in question.

  “This?” She sniffed, grinned, and held up the bobby pin. “You just never know when one of these buggers might come in handy.”

  “No friggin’ doubt,” I said, impressed when she had the lock popped in seconds. I made a mental note to add bobby pins to the other junk in my purse.

  Ruth pushed the box toward me. “You found it. You get the honors.”

  I rubbed my hands together in anticipation, then carefully opened the box as if it was booby-trapped.

  Inside lay a folded diner check, a wad of twenties, and a necklace with a gold heart charm. Okay, so there’d been money and jewelry, but I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a little anticlimactic. I unfolded the diner check and let out the breath of was holding. There was a series of numbers and letters. They looked really familiar.

  I cast a sideways glance at Ruth, who hadn’t spoken since we’d exposed the contents. “Ruth?”

  “Huh?” My voice snapped her out of it whatever la-la land she’d drifted off to. “Oh look, hon. There’s money, and what’s that you’ve got in your hand. Anything good?”

  She hadn’t mentioned the necklace, but I let it slide. “I’m not sure. It’s one of those checks that you take orders on, but nothing on it looks like bacon and eggs.” The sequences were a weird pattern of 150000715JT, 175000725RC, 200000719GH, then 250. It had been scribbled hurriedly, and I could barely make out the last zero.

  “That’s Judah’s handwriting, I’m pretty sure.” Ruth chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I wonder if it’s bank numbers, or some covert offshore account, or passwords to something?”

  “I think you’ve been watching too much television.”

  Ruth huffed. “Well, I’m just saying.” She ran her delicate fingers through her soft brown hair.

  I chuckled. “Okay, Robert Langdon. Sometimes numbers are just numbers, not the Da Vinci code.”

  “Ha! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not saying it’s anything sinister, just kind of neat. Nothing really happens in Peculiar.” Forget drifting, Ruth permanently resided in la-la land.

  Chapter Twelve

  I’D GONE ON a walk for some fresh air after Ruth left. Just up the street from Johnson’s General Store, I saw Babel’s tiny car—the one I’d seen him in the first day I arrived in Peculiar. He’d been driving a truck the last couple of days, so I wondered if the car and the truck were his, or if he’d borrowed one or the other from someone. Who would the car belong to? Sheila, maybe? It pissed me off, completely and unreasonably. I hated feeling so possessive over someone who wasn’t mine, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to beat his ass for making me want him.

  I looked around expectantly for Babel, then mentally kicked myself for being disappointed that his podunk ass wasn’t anywhere to be seen. For no good reason, I crossed the road and started walking toward the car. Okay, there was a good reason or at least an okay reason. I wanted to see Babel. Hell, I needed to see him. He might not be mine, but I was beginning to think that I was his.

  Delbert Johnson, or it might have been his twin Elbert, greeted me before I could get past their store.

  “How do?” he asked, taking a long drag from a cigarette. His smile crinkled around his eyes, genuine and bright, and a little mischievous. It was contagious. This was a jolly man, and Peculiar could use a few more like him.

  “I’m good. You?”

  “Fine as frog’s hair,” he remarked, tossing his cigarette butt on the sidewalk and dashing it with the toe of his boot. He looked up the street toward Babel’s car then back to me. “Enjoy your afternoon.” With a wink, he dismissed me as he went back into the store.

  The car was sitting in
front of a craft store. As I got closer, I noticed someone occupying the driver side, sort of slumped down. Babel had been in a fight or something earlier—the split lip and bruises had been a flashing neon sign to that effect. What if he’d been hurt worse than he’d let on? He could be bleeding internally, dying alone in a ratty little beat-up car as his coffin. Why did Ruth have to tell me that therians could die just like anyone else?

  As I ran the short twenty feet to the car, I made deals with any deity that would listen. If Babel lived, I would give him up completely. I wouldn’t interfere with his relationships or try to stop him from leaving town when the time came. I wouldn’t be selfish. I would…

  The driver-side window was down, and Babel had his head resting against the steering wheel. I stared at his gorgeous, scruffy face, remembering how good those soft whiskers felt against my thighs. He looked so peaceful. I’d heard people get that way when they’re going into shock.

  I tapped his shoulder gently. “Babe?” I didn’t know why I used his nickname.

  Twisting his neck sideways, he peered up at me through a thatch of hair angled across his face, his intense blue eyes red and watery. “I don’t know how to tell my parents.”

  Crap. I caressed his cheek, and he nuzzled his face against my palm like I was a touchstone. “I am the worst person in the world.” He’d been so calm, focused, when I’d told him about my vision earlier, that I hadn’t even considered what knowing Judah was dead would do to him.

  “I’m so sorry.” I opened the driver-side door and knelt down next to him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss the sadness away. Instead, I placed my hand on his leg. The heat radiating from his thigh through his thin, worn jeans made me shiver.

  Babel put his palm over my hand. When I tried to pull away, he gripped me tightly. My fingers clenched involuntarily against the firm muscle beneath. The wild look in his gaze was predatory and violent.

  “Babel.” I forced myself to relax. I didn’t try to move my hand again. “You okay?”