Charmed (Death Escorts) (14 page)

Chapter Seventeen

“Socialite -
a person who is or seeks to be prominent in fashionable society.”

Charming

I liked money. I liked cars and clothes. I liked having nice things and the ability to buy whatever I wanted. But sometimes the things I had to do to earn my money really sucked. And I didn’t mean the killing. Killing didn’t require much talking or much listening.

But spending time with a Target—specifically Rosalyn—required both.

I was starting to think that eventually going to hell wasn’t my punishment for murder—it was spending time with her.

It was a Saturday, a day most socialites would be lounging in bed, playing golf, or sitting by a pool. Not Rosalyn. No, she would rather drag me all over Fairbanks to scout locations for the fundraiser that I offered to help her chair.

What surprised me was that there were so many viable locations for such an event. I didn’t think this town consisted of much more than snow.

“Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” she said, wrapping her hand around my elbow and looking up.

“I’m sorry, my brain’s starting to shut down from lack of caffeine,” I said and gave her my best smile.

“It has been a long morning. Let’s get some lunch and caffeine,” she said.

“Now you’re talking.”

“It will give us a chance to discuss all the venues and pick one.”

Internally, I groaned.

Her phone rang inside the designer bag she wore over her shoulder and she pulled it out. “Oh, it’s your sister!” she said, smiling.

 My sister…

“Frankie, hi!” the Target said enthusiastically when she answered the phone.

Oh, yes. My
sister
.

I hadn’t seen or heard from her in over a week. Since I kissed her. Ever since that night, I went out of my way to avoid her. As much as I hated to admit it to myself, that kiss had shaken me. It made me
feel
things I didn’t want to feel.

After several days, I started to get the feeling I wasn’t the only one avoiding someone. She never showed up when I had plans with the Target, she didn’t show up to snoop around my house, and she never once tried to call.

 Frankie was avoiding me too. Her avoidance irritated me for reasons I didn’t understand. I should be happy she was finally backing off. It’s what I wanted.

Even still, I had Storm check up on her. She could have been up to something that I needed to know about. He said she wasn’t. He said the only place she ever went was work except for two trips to a soup kitchen in the bad part of town where she delivered boxes of cupcakes and cookies.

It didn’t seem like her to give away all that sugar.

“It’s been too long,” the Target was saying into the phone. “You’ve been a stranger!”

I listened closely to hear what Frankie would say.

“I was hoping we could meet? I would really like to explain why I haven’t called.”

What exactly did Frankie plan on
explaining
to my Target? A feeling of alarm washed over me and I knew Frankie was going to somehow rat me out.

“I was just about to go have lunch with…” The Target looked up, about to tell
my sister
I was with her. I caught her eye and shook my head, placing a finger over my lips. “Umm, would you like to meet now?”

I nodded and she smiled.

Frankie suggested a nearby café and the Target agreed.

“What was that all about?” she said after she ended the call and was stuffing her phone back into her bag.

“I haven’t seen her in a while either. I thought I would surprise her.”

“You’re sweet,” she said, taking my arm again. “What’s it like to have a sister?”

“It definitely keeps me on my toes,” I replied, guiding her down the street toward the café. I couldn’t help but wonder what Frankie would do when she walked in and saw me at the table.

I would know in seconds if she really were planning on somehow turning the Target against me. I didn’t think she would go so far as telling her I was a Death Escort. I mean, that would only make her sound insane. But even just the slightest hint that I wasn’t exactly who I said I was would make this Target suspicious.

Chapter Eighteen

“Stranger -
one who is neither a friend nor an acquaintance.”

Frankie

This was it. The moment I would warn Rosalyn about Charming. And then I could wash my hands completely of the both of them. It took me longer than I thought to make this call, but I did and that was all that mattered.

I lied and told Piper I was sick, that all I wanted to do was sleep after work. It wasn’t really a lie. Physically, I was fine, but mentally… I still felt kind of sick.

But the past few days had been better. I finally stopped baking, I cleaned up my kitchen, and I was ready to get on with it. There was just one more thing I had to do.

I took a deep breath, reaching out for the door, and stepped into the café. It was pretty busy inside; almost all the tables were full of people. The servers were moving about the room, trying to keep up with their sections, and the hostess at the door smiled warmly at me.

“I’m meeting someone… Rosalyn,” I said, knowing the hostess would know who Rosalyn was.

The hostess nodded and weaved her way toward the back of the room. I saw the discreet security guard sitting at the end of the bar, a water with lemon and a menu in front of him. I wondered if he really was going to eat or if he just wanted it to look like he was. What would his reaction be if he knew Rosalyn was spending time with a murderer right under his nose?

He caught me looking at him so I looked away, toward the table where the hostess was gesturing me. My feet stopped, almost as if I’d stepped in a giant puddle of glue and they were now permanently rooted to that spot.

He was here.

My eyes swept over his dark hair, green eyes, and perfect clothes. He looked exactly the same as he always did. How had he known? He couldn’t possibly have figured out I was going to try to advise Rosalyn away from him.

The way his eyes narrowed on my face told me that he definitely suspected it.

I tore my eyes away from him and looked at Rosalyn, giving her a genuine smile. If he thought his presence could scare me away, then he was wrong.

I yanked my feet out of the glue and covered the remaining steps to the table, pulling out a chair across from him and Rosalyn.

“You didn’t tell me you were with my brother,” I said.

“He wanted to surprise you.” She smiled. “Apparently, I’m not the only one who hasn’t seen you lately.”

“I admit, I’ve been very busy.” Maybe I should kick him under the table.

“Well, now we can all catch up!” Rosalyn said, glancing at Charming. I wondered if she realized it was awkward he had yet to say a word.

“You look well, Frankie. I’ve been wondering what you’ve been up to.” He said the words casually, but I caught their underlying meaning.

“You know me,” I said. “Always planning something.”

His eyes narrowed.

The waitress brought over waters for everyone and then took our order. I pointed to the first thing I saw on the menu. The last thing I wanted to think about was food. Maybe I should just pretend I had an emergency and leave. When the waitress walked off, I laid my cell on the table, hoping that any kind of text would come through and I could play it off and go.

Charming reached across the table and snatched it away, sticking it into his trouser pocket. “No phones today, sis. We want your complete attention.”

That’s it. When I left this café, I was finding his car and slashing his tires.

“Brothers can be so annoying,” I said to Rosalyn and then rolled my eyes.

She laughed and her shoulders seemed to relax slightly. I really didn’t want to make her uncomfortable with all the undercurrents between Charming and me. I decided I was just going to ignore him.

“So what have you two been up to this morning?”

“Scouting venues for the fundraiser that Charming is helping me with. I’m sure he told you.”

“Actually, he didn’t.” Yes, I knew they were doing charity work together, but since then I tried to know as little as possible.

Rosalyn began explaining everything in great detail. I did my best to pretend I was interested and even asked a few questions here and there. But the truth was I could barely pay attention. I couldn’t think about anything with him sitting right there staring at me.

The waitress brought our food, thankfully giving me a moment to compose myself. ‘Course the minute she walked away, he had to open his mouth and speak.

“Are you on a diet?” he asked, looking at my salad.

“No. I like salad.” Okay, I didn’t really like salad.

“You look too thin.”

I tried not to gape. “I do not!”

“You look tired too. You have bags under your eyes.” He turned to Rosalyn. “Does she look tired to you?”

Rosalyn glanced at me. “I think you look beautiful but maybe a little tired.” She shrugged her shoulders apologetically.

“I’ve been busy,” I mumbled, then turned to Rosalyn. “Show me some of those places you were looking at.” I pointed to a stack of papers near her elbow.

I listened politely while she rattled on while I tried not to look at Charming. I couldn’t believe he would insult me like that. Okay, I could believe it, but it still made me mad.

A woman in a nearby booth laughed and Charming’s fork clattered against his plate. He looked up, his cheeks losing some of their color, staring in the direction of the laugh. I snuck a glance over my shoulder to see a young woman, with pale-blond hair, standing up from her seat. She looked over at Charming, a flash of something I didn’t understand in her eyes.

He made a sound, a faint one that no one else seemed to hear. But I heard. I watched as all the color left in his face completely drained away. His eyes never left the woman and as she began to walk away, he stood abruptly, knocking over his chair.

“Charming?” Rosalyn said, looking up from her papers.

“I think I see someone I know. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply but followed the woman, bumping into servers and pushing his way through the crowd. When she turned the corner toward the ladies’ room, he seemed desperate to catch up, desperate not to lose sight of her.

I saw his lips move, like he called out a name, but what he said I couldn’t hear. But the look on his face… it did something to me.

“Would you excuse me?” I said to Rosalyn. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

“Of course.”

Charming was just outside the ladies’ room, leaning against the wall with his head down, looking utterly defeated, when I saw him.

“Charming?”

His head snapped up and he grabbed my arm. “She went in there.”

“Who? The girl with blond hair?”

He nodded. “Go in there and get her. Make her come out.”

Okay, this was weird. Even for him. “You want me to go in there and yank some stranger out here?”

“She isn’t a stranger,” he ground out. “
Please.
”

“Why didn’t you just go in after her?” I highly doubted he had a problem with storming the ladies’ bathroom.

He glanced back the way we came.

“Oh. Right. Wouldn’t want the Target to think you’re a weirdo.”

“
Please
,” he pleaded again.

There was something in his voice. Something that made me do what he asked. The inside of the bathroom wasn’t very large. There were only four stalls and four sinks. The first two stalls were empty; the last one had a little girl in it who was singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” at the top of her lungs. The stall in the center had its door closed, but I walked over to it anyway, prepared for the “someone’s in here!” so I could apologize and wait for her to come out.

But the stall was empty.

When my hand pushed on it, the door swung all the way open.

I glanced back at the only other stall with someone in it. Did that woman have a little girl with her that I hadn’t seen? I washed my hands at the sink until the little girl finished her song and they came out to wash her hands. I smiled at the mother through the mirror.

She had dark hair.

The blonde wasn’t in here.

Charming straightened away from the wall when I came out, his eyes searching all around me, hopeful for a glance at her face. When he realized I was alone, a flash of pain shot through his eyes, so real that I actually felt it.

“She wasn’t in there,” I said, my voice hushed.

The mother and daughter came out behind me and disappeared around the corner.

“You’re lying.” He snarled and pushed past me and rushed into the bathroom.

After several minutes, he still hadn’t come out, so I went in quietly behind him.

He was standing in the center, staring at an open window on the far side of the room. He didn’t say anything, not a word, when I stopped beside him.

There was something about his silence that was tangible. It wrapped around us both, pressing in until I couldn’t be silent anymore.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s him,” he said, almost like he was talking to himself. “He’s messing with me.”

Who was he talking about? The Grim Reaper?

“Charming, who was that?” I asked. I didn’t actually think he would tell me.

He turned abruptly and stared down into my face. Stark. That’s the only word that came to mind when I looked at him just then. There was no mask of perfection, no look of arrogance, no hint of a lie.

“My sister.” It was a whisper, a barely there confession.

Shock rippled through me. Charming had a sister? A real one?

Before I could say or do anything, he left, making excuses to Rosalyn about something that just couldn’t wait and promising to call her later.

After he had gone, I realized my opportunity to warn her away had presented itself. His odd behavior just now would help back up whatever I said.