The Angel of Death (The Soul Summoner Book 3) (6 page)

BOOK: The Angel of Death (The Soul Summoner Book 3)
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I laughed and took the bags from him so he could take off his coat. I glanced at the clock on the wall. “You’ve been gone for hours. You were at the grocery store the whole time?”

“The whole time,” he said. “That place is like the third ring of hell. People are freaking crazy. I considered getting my taser from the truck.”

I peered into a bag.  “Did you get dessert?”

He grimaced. “Sort of.”

We walked to the kitchen, and I opened the bags. He’d bought a half-gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream, Swiss Cake Rolls, and an economy-size bag of Skittles. I put my hand on my hip and glared at him. He held his hands up in defense. “There were no pies left! I even checked for frozen pies! Zero. So I improvised.”

I rolled my eyes and put the ice cream in the freezer.
 

“Uh, Sloan,” Nathan said behind me.
 

I turned to see smoke pouring from the oven. “Oh my god!” I screamed.

Dad sat up so fast that the foot rest slammed closed, jerking the seat back upright so violently he catapulted to his feet. He ran to the kitchen as I yanked the oven door open. Billows of black smoke rolled out into the room. Coughing, I waved my hand furiously in front of my face.

“Move!” Dad shouted.
 

The fire alarm wailed through the house.

Dad grabbed two pot holders and pulled the pan from the oven. The turkey was black, and one of its wings was on fire. Dad was chanting, “Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

Nathan doubled over laughing.
 

I smacked him on the back of the head. “Open the windows and shut off the alarm!”

Dad was horrified as I threw a wet dishcloth over the turkey to extinguish the flames. I wondered if he might burst into tears.

Instead he burst into hysterical laughter. “We are not responsible enough to do this!”

“I’m not going back to the grocery store!” Nathan shouted from where he fanned the smoke alarm with a newspaper.

I leaned against the counter and laughed. I pulled out my phone, took a picture of the charred bird, and sent it to Adrianne with the caption,
Happy Thanksgiving!

Dad picked at the blackened skin. “Do you think we can save any of it?”

I grimaced. “I’m not eating that mess.”

The bird was still smoking, so Dad carried the whole thing out to the back porch. Once the fire alarm stopped screaming through the house, Nathan came over and draped his arm around my shoulders. “Best Thanksgiving ever,” he said, chuckling.

I elbowed him again.

Dad came back inside and closed the door. He turned and looked at us. “Well, what do we do now?”

Nathan shook his head. “Seriously. I’m not going back to the store.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Then we’re having mashed potatoes, green beans, rolls, ice cream, and Skittles for Thanksgiving.”

Nathan beamed down at me. “And Swiss Cake Rolls.”

Dad laughed. “Do you think anyone is delivering pizza today?”

I rolled my eyes and went back to the den. On the end table next to the sofa was a picture of Mom and Dad, smiling arm in arm. I picked it up and sighed as I ran my thumb over my mother’s face. A haze of smoke still clouded the entire downstairs of the house. “I miss you, Mom.”

An hour later, Dad was nervously watching the rolls brown through the window in the oven, Nathan was opening the can of green beans, and I was attempting to mash the potatoes with a fork when the doorbell rang.
 

I walked to the foyer and pulled the front door open. Adrianne and her parents were holding covered pans and casserole dishes.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the trio sang in unison.

I laughed and stepped out of their way. “What are you doing here?”

Dad and Nathan joined us in the foyer.

Adrianne thrust a large pan covered in tin foil into my arms. “We brought Thanksgiving to you,” she said as she unwound a fluffy white scarf from around her neck.

I felt tears prickle the corner of my eyes.

Gloria Marx, Adrianne’s mom, gave me a giant bear hug and kissed my temple. “We can’t let our favorite family eat burnt turkey on Thanksgiving,” she said.

Adrianne wrapped her arms around me and looked down from where she towered over me at six feet some odd inches in her high heels. “I think we have a whole lot to be thankful for this year, don’t you?”
 

I smiled. “Yes, I do.”

4.

The next morning, Nathan sent a text message warning me at six a.m. that he was on his way to pick me up. I’d already been awake for an hour battling the first pangs of what I assumed was morning sickness. I was bloated, nauseated, and craving coffee, but I was dressed and ready to go when he rang Dad’s doorbell fifteen minutes later.

Dad opened the door as I was coming down the stairs. “Good morning, Detective.”

“Good morning, sir.” The corners of Nathan’s mouth twitched when he saw me. “Nice hair.”

“Shut up,” I said as I finished tying my unruly locks in a knot on the top of my head.

Dad closed the door. “Nathan, I must run. I have a patient I need to see at the hospital, but I’ll be thinking of you and your family this weekend.”

Nathan shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

Dad pointed at both of us, but gave me a warning glance. “You two be careful.”

I gave him a side hug. “We will, Dad.”

He kissed the side of my head, then released me and headed toward the garage. “I’ll see you at dinner on Monday, Sloan?”

“Yes. Love you, Dad.”

He smiled back over his shoulder. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

I did a double-take when I turned back to Nathan. He looked completely different. It was the first time I had ever seen him dressed like a normal guy. He was in blue jeans and a dark green plaid shirt over a white thermal. I blinked. “What are you wearing?”

He looked down at his outfit. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s weird. Aside from Mom’s funeral, I’ve never seen you in anything but your GI Joe getup.” I was still eyeing him suspiciously. “This is weird.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He looked down at his watch. “How long till you’re ready?”

My head flopped to one side. “I am ready.”

His eyes went from my pink hoodie, down to my blue sweatpants, and then to my fuzzy brown boots. He sighed and shook his head. “It’s a good thing you’re hot.”

I held my arms out. “What’s wrong with my clothes? I thought I looked cute.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, if we were popping popcorn to watch a movie in bed, but we’re going to see my family.”

I pulled down on the corner of my eye to show off my mascara. “I put on makeup.”

“Those ugly boots cancel out the makeup.”

“Hey!”

Laughing, he rolled his eyes and picked up the suitcase I’d put by the door. “Come on. I told my mom we’d be there by lunch.”

It was a four hour drive to his parents’ house outside of Raleigh in Durham, North Carolina. Half-way there it started snowing again, and by the time we pulled up in front of the blue, two-story farmhouse, there was over an inch on the ground. It was a grand, older home with white shutters, a wraparound porch, and a small barn in the back. Christmas garland twisted around the porch spindles, and two large wreaths with giant red bows hung over the front double doors.

I marveled at the house. “This is like something from a fifties Christmas movie. You grew up here?”

“Yep.” He pointed up to the second floor. “I broke my arm in the second grade trying to jump off the porch roof and fly like Superman.”

I motioned to a line of cars around the side of the house. “Who all is here?”

He turned off the engine. “Oh, my whole family is here, I’m sure.”

I blinked with surprise. “Your
whole
family?” I asked. “How many are there?”

“Well, my parents are here. My sister, Karen—”

I cut him off. “You have another sister?”

He nodded. “I have two other sisters and a brother.”

I cringed. “Are you joking?”

A thin smile spread across his face as he shook his head. “Is that a problem, Madam Sweatpants?”

“No,” I lied, tugging on the strings of my hoodie. “You just never told me you have such a big family.”

“I also have a bunch of nieces and nephews.”

“And they’ll all be here?” I asked.

“I’m pretty sure they all got here yesterday.”

I looked back at the house. “None of them are serious criminals or anything, are they?”

He laughed. “What?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Well, I have panic attacks around scary people, and I can’t take my medicine.”

“You can’t take your medicine?” he asked surprised. “I thought you said you forgot to take it.”

Dang it.

I scrambled for a recovery. “Well, the doctor took me off of it because of some of the side effects. You didn’t answer my question.”

He shook his head. “No criminals around here. I promise.” He stretched his arm across the back of my seat. “Relax. You’ll love them.”

I took a deep breath. “All right. Let’s do this.”

When we got out of the truck, the front door swung open and a short, plump woman with straight white hair that curled under around her shoulders ran out onto the porch. She was wearing a white sweater with a red collar and a big sequined poinsettia on the front. She was clapping her hands and had a smile so wide I thought her face might crack in the cold. “Noot-Noot! You’re here!” she cheered.

I spun around toward where he was pulling our bags from the back seat. “Noot-Noot?”

He pointed a warning finger at me. “Don’t even start.”

I laughed and followed him as he jogged up ahead of me to meet his mother halfway up the steps. She squealed softly as he put the suitcases down and hugged her tight. He turned toward me when I stepped up onto the bottom step. “Mom, this is—”

She came down the stairs to meet me. “This is Sloan. I know exactly who she is.” She stretched out her arms and hugged me. “I’m Nathan’s mom. You can call me Kathy.”

I shivered. “It’s nice to meet you, Kathy.”

She curled her arm protectively around my shoulders. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you in the house where it’s warm.”

The smell of cinnamon and apple pie made me close my eyes and inhale when we stepped through the front door. “Oh my goodness. This must be what Heaven smells like,” I said, looking over at her.

She was smiling from ear to ear as she took our bags from Nathan. “Thank you. I hope you’re hungry, Sloan. You got here just in time to eat!”

“I’m famished,” I said as I unbuttoned my coat.
 

Tiny squeals and the sound of little rushing feet filled the hallway. “Unca Nate!” a munchkin voice squeaked.

Two children, a boy with long blond hair and a girl with brown curls, latched onto Nathan’s legs. He laughed and picked up the little girl. “How are you, princess?” he asked.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Gramma says I can’t have cookies till after we eat.”

He growled. “She’s so mean.”

His mom smacked him on the back of the head and he laughed.
 

The little girl rubbed her nose and pointed at me. “Who is this lady?”

He touched my shoulder. “This is my friend, Sloan. Sloan, this is Gretchen.”

I shook her tiny hand. “Hi, Gretchen.”

The boy tugged on my pant leg. “And I’m Carter!”

I laughed. “Nice to meet you, Carter.”

Nathan put Gretchen down, and they took off running down the hallway again. Kathy headed up the stairs behind us. “I’ll put these in your room, Nathan. You can go on into the kitchen.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he said.

I grabbed Nathan’s arm as we walked down the hall. “Your room? Are we supposed to share a bedroom?”

“Calm down. I’ll sleep on the couch, so you don’t have to worry about me spoiling your virtue.”

I rolled my eyes. “Does your mom think we’re a couple?”

“Beats me,” he said. “I haven’t told her we are.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Have you told her we’re
not
?”

He just winked at me.

We passed a formal dining room and a living room with a massive Christmas tree in it. There were no ornaments on the tree, but the smell of fresh pine was intoxicating. At the end of the hall, loud chatter was coming from behind a swinging, white door. He pushed it open, and stepped aside so I could enter. It was a large kitchen, but it was crowded with the McNamara clan all dressed in holiday sweaters.

And there I was,
Madam Sweatpants
.
 

No one seemed to notice, however. They all cheered when we walked inside and, instinctively, I clapped my hands over my ears. Nathan ceremoniously introduced me to everyone.
 

Nathan’s sister Lara looked like she could be his twin. She and her husband, Joe, were Carter’s parents. They lived about twenty minutes down the road.
 

His other sister, Karen, was married to Nick, and they lived in Columbia, South Carolina. Karen and Nick had four kids. The oldest two were out Black Friday shopping, but the younger two were ignoring us all in the adjoining den off the kitchen.

Nathan’s brother, Chuck, was the oldest sibling and was the exact opposite of Nathan. He looked like a lumberjack with a thick brown beard, dressed in camouflage from head to toe. He was recently divorced and living in Tennessee. He was Gretchen’s dad.

In five minutes, I was completely overwhelmed.

“Sloan,” Nathan said, turning me around again. “This is my dad, James McNamara.”

My head snapped back with surprise. James McNamara was a silver-haired, gray-eyed Paul Newman in a sweater vest. He was Nathan in thirty more years.
 

He shook my hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sloan. We hear about you quite a bit.”

I blushed. “Really?”

“Absolutely. We owe you so much for helping us find Ashley after all these years of searching and wondering. You’ll never know how grateful we are.”

“I’m glad I could help, and I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said.
 

He squeezed my hand again. “Well, we’re happy you’re here. I hope you’ll make yourself at home.”

“Thank you, Mr. McNamara,” I said.

BOOK: The Angel of Death (The Soul Summoner Book 3)
9.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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