(Rainshadow, #2) Deception Cove (19 page)

“I REMEMBER THE DEAD GUY NOW.” SYLVIA BENETZ
peered at the card she had taken out of a file box. “Checked in as Fred Smith. Paid cash. Didn’t see him the next morning. Just assumed he left on the early ferry. I didn’t worry about it at the time. After all, he’d paid for the room.”

Alice studied the card that Sylvia set on the inn’s front desk. She was not the only one examining it. A sizeable crowd was gathered around the desk. In addition to Drake, Kirk Willis, Myrna, Rachel, Charlotte, and Dr. Harrison were present.

Houdini and Darwina were the only ones who did not show any interest in the murder investigation. They were out in the street in front of the inn, learning how to play hide-and-seek with the half dozen children left in town.

The fog had retreated for the day, leaving behind another heavy sky. The parents of the kids had all agreed that the little ones needed to work off excess energy, and the dust bunnies were thrilled to take on the role of camp counselors. With a natural talent for turning anything and everything into a game, they had picked up the essential concepts of hide-and-seek almost immediately. Shouts of laughter interspersed by short bursts of hushed silence were followed by excited chortling and more giggles echoing through the partially deserted town.

“That’s not the address of Samson Crisp and Associates,” Alice said.

Kirk glanced at the card. “He was using a fake name so he went with a fake address, as well. Not that it matters now that we’ve got a positive ID. Damn. This is a genuine homicide. Too bad the chief isn’t here. He was FBPI. He knows how to run a murder investigation.”

“Well, Slade isn’t here, so we’re on our own,” Myrna said. She gave Drake a narrow-eyed look. “But this is Foundation Security business, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Drake said. “It is. Normally Harry would handle a Preserve-connected murder, but since he and Attridge aren’t around, I’ll take the lead.” He paused for a beat. “If that’s okay with you and Kirk?”

“Fine by me,” Myrna said. “Crisp wasn’t a local and it doesn’t look like the perp was from the island, either. Not our problem.”

Kirk gave a clipped nod of his head. “As the only representative of the Foundation available at the moment, sir, you’re in charge. But you need to keep Myrna and me in the loop. The chief will want a full report when he gets back.”

“Understood,” Drake said. He turned to the doctor. “What can you tell us, Dr. Forester?”

“Call me Ed,” Forester said. “And I don’t have squat for you. No visible wounds. If Sylvia had found Crisp’s body in one of the rooms upstairs, I would have said the guy had suffered a heart attack or a stroke.”

“Just like Fulton,” Alice said quietly.

With the exception of Drake, everyone looked at her.

“My ex,” she explained.

“Oh, right,” Rachel said. “The guy you spent your first honeymoon with here on Rainshadow.”

Alice flushed. “It was just an MC.”

Drake stepped into the short, awkward silence. “Given the facts, I think we can assume that Crisp was killed with the same weapon that was used on Fulton Whitcomb.”

Kirk’s jaw hardened into a grim line. “Alien technology?”

“I think so,” Drake said. “A couple of the people involved in this thing—Zara Tucker and Aldwin Hampstead—had access to a lot of Alien artifacts.”

“I don’t get it,” Charlotte said. “If the killer knew the death would look like natural causes, why would he go to the trouble of concealing the body in the freezer?”

“I can think of a couple of reasons,” Drake said. “First, he wanted to buy some time. He had to know that the body would be identified fairly quickly once it was discovered. It wasn’t like Crisp was working under deep cover. He just checked in with a fake name and address.”

Alice nodded. “And once the body was identified, there was a strong possibility that someone back in Resonance—Crisp’s last client, for example—would start asking questions about why he had gone to Rainshadow and what he’d found there. Said client might have gone to the police with her suspicions and convinced them to reopen the investigation.”

Myrna arched her brows. “Crisp’s last client being you.”

“Yep.”

Sylvia shook her head. “Told Burt ages ago that he needed to clean out that freezer.”

“What about the killer?” Drake said. He studied the handful of cards on file. “Doesn’t look like there were a lot of other folks staying here the night Crisp checked in.”

“It was off-season,” Sylvia said. “We weren’t booked solid. Looks like mostly couples, though.” She paused. “Here’s a single man. Roger Carter. Gave a Resonance City address and paid cash, too. One night only. Left early the following morning.”

“We think the killer is a man named Aldwin Hampstead,” Alice said. “He’s a museum director and he looks the part. Mid-thirties, slender, blond hair, good looking in a polished, classy sort of way. He would have been well dressed and rather aloof.”

“Huh.” Sylvia snapped the registration card against the desktop a couple of times and looked thoughtful. “I don’t think this is your guy. Hampstead sounds like someone I would remember. But I can’t recall anything in particular about Roger Carter. Medium height, medium build. Very ordinary type, I guess.”

“Damn,” Drake said softly. “Sounds like Zara Tucker found herself a pro.”

Everyone looked at him.

“A professional hit man who knows how to fade into the background,” Drake explained. “The kind of guy no one remembers.”

Alice shook her head. “That’s definitely not Aldwin Hampstead.”

DRAKE STOOD AT THE WINDOW OF THE LANTERN-LIT
room, watching the shadows of the paranormal fog roll through the main street of Shadow Bay.

Alice was still in the bathroom. He could hear water running in the sink. It seemed to him that she had been in there for an inordinate length of time. Something told him that their second night together at the Marina Inn was going to be a lot more complicated than the first.

Last night had been simple because they had both been exhausted. The sex had come out of nowhere, blindsiding them. Like the torrid kiss in the parking garage, the fiery passion last night had hit hard and fast. It was not the kind of sex that implied a commitment to another such encounter tonight.

He was sure that when they climbed the stairs to their room a short time ago they had both been thinking about the bed that awaited them. He certainly had been thinking about it. But he could not get a read on Alice. He should not push her, he thought. She’d had a rough day. Finding a dead body was a traumatic experience made even worse in this case because she had known the victim. He should give Alice some space tonight.

Too bad Houdini had taken off a short time ago. The dust bunny served as a sort of chaperone.

The bathroom door opened. Drake turned around and watched Alice emerge in the robe and nightgown that she had borrowed from Rachel. Her hair was tumbled down around her shoulders. In the glow of the lantern she looked freshly scrubbed and sweetly vulnerable.

His wife. For now, at least.

His blood heated. He fought the nearly overpowering impulse to take her down onto the bed and lose himself in her arms. She was a dazzling drug to his senses, and he was completely and utterly addicted.

He really should give her some space tonight.

She stopped and looked at him. “Anything going on outside?”

“No,” he said. Intensely aware of his fierce erection, he started toward the bathroom. “Be out in a minute.”

Give her some space,
he thought.

When he emerged a short time later, he discovered that Alice was in bed. She had turned the lantern down very low. To his eyes, the room was still fully illuminated, but he knew the shadows that she perceived gave her a sense of privacy. At least she could not see how aroused he was.

He went around to the far side of the bed and stripped off his trousers and shirt. He climbed under the covers wearing only his briefs, folded his arms behind his head, and concentrated on the ceiling.

There was a short silence.

“You can turn off the lantern,” Alice said.

“It’s all right. I don’t mind sleeping in my glasses.”

“That’s not necessary, really.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He hesitated and then reached out and de-rezzed the lantern, plunging the room into what he knew was utter darkness for Alice. He took off his glasses and put them close at hand on the bedside table.

There was another short silence. Alice stirred.

“You can still see me, can’t you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“As if I’m lying here in broad daylight?”

He turned onto his side and looked at her. “No, not unless I jack up my talent a little. But I’m not doing that now. I’m just looking at you with what passes for normal vision for me.”

“What do you see?”

He looked at her with a sense of wonder and tried to find the words. “It’s as if you were lit by moonlight and shadow, but the hues and shades are all from the far end of the spectrum. You look . . . beautiful. Magical.”

She twisted onto her side, facing him. Her eyes were open but he knew from her unfocused gaze that she could not make him out in the darkness.

He sensed energy shifting in the atmosphere and realized that she had rezzed her talent. She looked straight at him with luminous eyes.

“You can see me,” he said.

“A little. You’re drenched in deep shadows.”

“Just a big shadow, huh? Doesn’t sound too interesting.”

She put out a hand and touched his bare shoulder. “You’re wrong. You look incredibly interesting.”

Her fingers burned on his skin, thrilling his senses.

“Is that a polite way of saying I look better in the dark?” he asked.

“No,” she said, very serious now. “You are the most interesting man I have ever seen in the dark or in daylight. “You are . . . amazing, Drake. Last night was amazing. I will never forget it or you. I just wanted you to know that.”

He stopped breathing for a beat. His pulse thudded in his veins. His whole body felt tight and hard and heavy with desire. He reached under the covers and put a hand on her thigh.

“Alice?” he said.

His voice sounded thick and harsh to his ears.

But she levered herself up on her elbow, leaned forward, and kissed him. His talent spiked and the night was ablaze in dark light.

The kiss ignited his senses, but he made himself hold back. Last night had been fast and hot. His intuition told him that tonight she wanted to explore him, learn him, discover more about what was happening between them.

She moved her lips to his throat, his shoulder, and then his chest. Her soft, warm hand glided over him as if she were trying to memorize him with her sense of touch.

He wanted to give her time and for a while he succeeded in his goal. He gripped her carefully, as if she were made of delicate porcelain. He flattened his palms on the contours of her sleek, elegant back. She was warm to the touch. Then he went lower, seeking the cleft between her legs.

He found her melting and hot. He caught the scent of her arousal and it took him over the edge. He eased her onto her back and came down on top of her, making a place for himself between her legs. She welcomed him, lifting her hips to meet him.

He entered her slowly, deliberately, intensely aware of the tight little muscles that guarded her core. She gasped, cried out softly, and sank her nails into his shoulders.

“Drake.
Drake
.”

He went deep and the night blazed around them.

WHEN HE EMERGED FROM THE BATHROOM FOR THE
second time that night, he automatically looked out the window. The unnatural darkness still cloaked the town.

He started to turn away and go back to the bed but a flicker of light at the far end of the street made him pause. He took a closer look. The golden glow of an amber lantern appeared briefly again in the distance.

“What’s wrong?” Alice asked.

“Looks like someone is wandering around outside in the fog with an amber lantern,” he said.

“That’s strange.” Alice got out of bed and made her way to the window. “I can’t see anything.”

He draped an arm around her bare shoulders and rezzed a little of his talent. “How’s that?”

“Much better. Okay, now I see the light bobbing around at the end of the street. It’s a lantern, all right. Whoever is out there must be terribly disoriented. Probably scared out of his wits.”

“I’d better go see what’s going on.”

“I’ll bet that accounts for the ghost,” Alice said.

He turned away from the window and grabbed his pants. “What ghost?”

“Today I heard a couple of the kids talking about the ghost that haunts Shadow Bay. I assumed they were just telling stories to scare each other as a means of dealing with their fears. But maybe one or two of them happened to see someone walking around at night with a lantern.”

“I’ll check out our ghost,” Drake said.

He dressed swiftly, took one of the fire-starters out of the pack, put on his glasses, and opened the room door.

“Drake,” Alice said urgently.

He paused in the doorway. “What?”

“Be careful.”

She looks so serious,
he thought, smiling.

“I will,” he promised.

He let himself out into the lantern-lit hall, descended the stairs to the lobby, unlocked the door, and went outside into the foggy night. Eerie, menacing visions swirled in the atmosphere. Fragments of his dream of the endless hallway lined with doors that opened onto blinding sunlight as well as Zara’s laughter whispered to his senses.

He removed his glasses, put them in his shirt pocket, and jacked up his talent to suppress the hallucinations. He started toward the spot where he had last seen the lantern.

But there was no sign of the flickering light now. Whoever had dared the night with a lantern had disappeared.
Probably gone back indoors,
Drake thought.

He walked the length of the street through the senses-chilling fog and turned the corner. In the dark light of night he could make out two stone pillars that formed an entryway.

The words engraved in the sign above the gate read:
SHADOW BAY CEMETERY
.