Wicked Tempest: A Kate Waters Mystery (Kate Waters Mysteries Book 2) (21 page)

Two officers saw the commotion and came running to his aid.

“Cool down, bro,” Keith growled in Nick’s ear.

“Hey! What’s going on?” one of the officers shouted, pulling Keith from Nick. It took most of their strength, but eventually, the two officers moved Keith to one side of the room and helped Nick stand up.

“This is my business,” Keith said to the officers. “My buddy here just thought he’d come pay me a friendly visit.”

Nick rolled his eyes and straightened his shirt.

“Do we need to escort your visitor to the door?” one of them said.

“No, he’ll calm himself down, right?” Keith shot him a boiling glare.

Nick nodded to the officers. “We’re good.”

The two officers walked slowly from the room, glancing back at every step.

Keith shut the door and stepped around to his desk. He threw a folder over some paperwork he had left out. “So what’s got your fucking panties in a bunch?”

Nick leaned to the front of Keith’s desk and jammed his index finger at him. “Oh, I think you know. Kate Waters…you know anything about that?”

“What, the hot babe you’ll never sack, no matter how hard you try to impress her?”

“Fuck you.”

The two officers who had assisted Keith stood outside the room and watched the two of them like guard dogs.

Nick raked his hand through his hair. “Kate was attacked last night.”

Keith sat down at his desk. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Tell me it wasn’t you.”

“You are out of your mind.”

Nick stood his ground. “You went over there, didn’t you? Got caught stealing the statue and roughed her up.”

Keith shook his head. “Man, where’s the trust gone? Where’s the loyalty?”

“She said something was taken from her.”

“Pride,” Keith replied.

“You know it was more than that. Where is the statue? Where’d you put it?”

Keith glanced out the window and waved the officers away. “Watch your goddamn mouth,” he said turning to Nick. “This is my place of work. You’re walking on my reputation.”

Nick huffed out his breath and lifted his eyes to the cork-board ceiling. “If something happens to Kate again, I’ll…”

“What? Kill me? Please.”

Nick nailed Keith with a glare.  “As you said yourself, there are worse things than death.”

Keith met his glare. “If I had the statue, you’d be the first to know.” He leaned back in his chair. “Who’s on the case?”

“A detective by the name of Wells.”

Keith shifted, checked a sheet at his desk with a list of extensions to other departments. “Does Wells know what was stolen from her house?”

“I wasn’t there when she spoke to him.”

“He probably wouldn’t say anything in front of you anyway. You’re a suspect.”

“A suspect?” Nick repeated. “I’m the one who brought her to the hospital.”

“You don’t think they’re going to be suspicious of the male who discovered the battered woman in her own home? Perfect alibi.”

“Kate knows I’d never do that.”

“Does she?”

Nick leaned over his desk. “I wouldn’t bet she feels the same about you.”

Keith grinned blaring-white teeth at him. “After all these years and it’s come down to this, a woman no less."

“No. All these years, I’ve always felt this way about you. I’m just not afraid to show it anymore.”

Keith’s jaw twitched. “You’re the one who’s changed.”

“Anyone would after what happened to Jim.” Nick turned for the door and reached for the doorknob. “His death meant nothing to you.”

Keith stood and walked around his desk. “It meant something, but I’m not going to pussy-out like you.”

Nick went to the door and opened it.

“Nick,” Keith said, pausing him in the doorway. “Find out who attacked Kate, and you’ll find the statue. Find the statue, and you can help Matt. I’m sure he’d think you were the best dad in the world after another surgery, for a chance to look like he used to. You owe him that much at the very least.”

Nick bit his lip until he tasted blood. It sickened him whenever Keith brought up his son, knowing everything he had gone through with Matt and then to sling the blame on him filled him with a maddening rage.

“See…I am a good guy,” Keith said, “and I know you want to be a good father.”

“There’s nothing good in you anymore. You’re not even a good cop.” Nick didn’t say another word and stormed out of his office.

In truth, Nick couldn’t say one way or another whether he was a good father, but he knew one thing for certain. He’d do anything for his son…and for Kate too.

Since Wells had discovered the missing copy listing Andre’s boat moorage in his printer tray, he couldn’t escape the feeling that someone in the department was watching him, someone in the department who knew something about Andre that maybe he didn’t. Given the situation with Kate’s assault and the circumstantial evidence surrounding Brooke’s death, Wells figured the best place to start looking into the matter was with Goldstein. The chief already knew Wells was investigating loose ends, and given that someone else in the department was interested in Andre Singer, it might spare him more time to explore Brooke Jennings’ past. Plus, Goldstein had a way of pulling information from others without compromising who wanted to know.

His office was located on the same floor, in the Criminal Investigations Division, across from the conference room. Metal clanked on metal down the hall in the workout gym and the smell of popcorn wafted through the building’s vent ducts, reminding Wells that he’d skipped lunch.

Normally, Goldstein’s door was shut and the shades pulled, but today the door was open, and he could hear him talking on the phone. Wells stood outside his office door, waiting for silence before he knocked.

“Come in,” Goldstein shouted, without looking up from his desk.

Wells entered. “Good day, Chief.”

“No, it isn’t,” he replied. “What about yours?”

“It might be.” Wells handed Goldstein a copy of Andre Singer’s driver’s license photo and record. “Do you know this man?”

Goldstein took his time looking at the photo. “No. Should I?”

“Depends. He’s the reason I haven’t filed the Brooke Jennings report yet.”

“You think he had a role in her death?”

“I don’t think so, but I mentioned earlier that he threatened one of the women who found Brooke Jennings deceased in her house, the same woman who was assaulted in her home last night.”

“And…he’s the one?”

“Could be, but I’ve discovered someone has been in my office photocopying background information on him. I found these copies in my printer. One of them is missing. I didn’t make any copies.”

“Someone from the department?”

“Must have been, which leads me to wonder if there is more information on Andre Singer than I am aware of.”

Goldstein studied the photo again. “His record is pretty clean. I can check around, if that’s what you’re in here for?”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Could be that one of our men is already following his trail on another lead. Still, Brooke Jennings died of natural causes. Any investigations you carry forth now should be logged under this Kate…”

“Waters.”

Goldstein frowned. “Related to Jevanna Waters?”

“Correct. Jevanna Waters’ death was originally filed under accidental causes too.”

Goldstein leaned back in his chair. “Is it possible to electrocute someone with the amount of voltage that Brooke Jennings was electrocuted with?”

“My thoughts too…almost anything is possible if you try hard enough.”

Goldstein looked back to the sheet on Andre Singer with a narrow eye. “Isn’t that the truth,” he said. He put the printout of Andre in his receiving basket. “I’ll do some digging around the department. This stays between us. If somebody knows something, I’ll find out.”

“Thank you.” Wells looked at the latest photo on Goldstein’s desk, his 2-year-old granddaughter, Melody, attempting to hold his three cats. They covered most of her lap and torso. “Sure is getting big,” Wells commented.

“Yeah, next thing you know, she’ll be dating half the creeps in the Metro area.” Goldstein shook his head. “Say, I heard Officer Hanes brought a fellow in by the name of Shane Steiner. Sounds like he’ll be charged with two counts of sexual assault.”

Wells nodded. “Yes, Hanes left me a message. That’s good news.”

“You never realize what you’re getting into when you’re raising girls, right? Boys are easy, born tough. But girls…even if they’re tomboys, like Melody, it’s still a man’s world. Always will be.”

Wells fought like hell to keep the tears from wetting his eyes. “Yes, I believe so.”

“If Andre Singer had anything to do with Kate Waters’ assault, I trust you above anyone else in this department, to find the evidence,” Goldstein said.

“Thank you, sir.”

Wells turned around and walked out of his office, a hot rush of hurt had wedged itself into his throat, making it difficult to breathe. He headed straight for the restrooms. The tears breached before he could close the stall door.

He wept silently, thinking how he would do anything to protect Julie. A sharp pain filled his chest, and he struggled against the anger of helplessness, realizing there was only so much he could do to protect her. And Kate, she had become like a daughter to him too, though older and wiser. Like Goldstein said, she was still a woman in a man’s world. Never safe, no matter how wise, how old, how careful. Then there was Thea. Strangely, the pain lessened in him when he thought of her. She was an anomaly. Not a woman he felt the need to protect, which at first, bothered him, made him nervous, that maybe there was something wrong with her. Yet, the more he thought of it, the more he realized that was what was right about her.

***

Thunder echoed from the dark corners of the sky. Along the bank, the trees unrolled shadows like the silhouettes of evil sprites snaking around for lost souls. The river deepened to a slick-black and blue, and gurgled over rocks near the shore, murmuring secrets and warnings, seemingly to tell Kate to get out while she still could. Everything about this moment felt wrong to her, and it took conscious will to keep from running back to the car, even calling David.

Thea opened the circle, calling on the presence of the elemental towers. She requested aid and insight. Then she pointed to each of them. “Pick up your element, and repeat after me.”

Kate followed the others’ lead. Donna held one of the white candles, Erika the stick of incense, Thea cupped the small bowl of water in her hand, and Kate picked up a little, dark-blue ceramic dish filled with sand.

Wrapped in light

Block evil’s plight

Elements four

Unlock your doors

The four of them passed each one of the elements around, dipping their index finger in the bowl of water and salt and waving their right hand over the incense and candle flame until the original element came back to them. Kate wasn’t at all sure what this would do, but she sensed a gathering of energy, a drawing of intent among them, and worked to keep herself attentive, for deep in her psyche, she did fear the return of Rán. She feared the drowning sensation of her stare and the cold grip of her hand.

Thea picked up her athame. “Four drops each, into the pot.” Her eyes landed on Kate. The gray-blue shadows of dusk disguised the expression on Thea’s face, but she could hear the graveness in her voice, and she could see the cold light of dusk reflected in her eyes like silver coins.

“The left index finger is easiest,” Donna told Kate. “Cut the side, it will hurt less.”

Kate picked up her athame, watched how Erika and Donna pricked the tip, and then squeezed ink-red drops of blood into the pot. Kate hesitated, afraid of bleeding excessively again. The last time she had drawn blood for a spell, a torrent had spilled forth, and she had wound up on the bathroom floor choking beneath the shadow of Rán.

“What’s wrong, Kate?” Thea asked.

Kate shook her head. “It’s nothing,” but she paused with the tip of her athame at the side of her finger. A faint glimmer of refracted light glinted from the blade. Lightning cut through the sky, and thunder rolled like a waking mountain, the temper, an angry goddess.

All three women stared at her, patiently waiting. “We can’t move on with the spell until we have your blood,” Erika said.

Kate breathed in deep, then pressed the tip of the blade into her flesh. The skin parted and oozed black-red. Blood leaked out thin and fast. It dripped down her hand and the length of her forearm. Her head swayed, and she dropped the athame to the ground. The breath of Rán was behind her. She could smell the ocean again.

Donna grabbed her arm, and directed her finger to the pot. Erika handed her a tissue and picked up her athame, placing it on the rock. Kate squeezed the tissue tight around her finger.

“You okay?” Thea asked.

“Yes. Let’s move on.” And fast, Kate thought. She wanted this over. She wanted to be home, in her bed, where she could shut out the world and sleep. Sleep until nothing but her own restfulness woke her.

After another concerned glance at her, Thea continued the spell:

At this hour, we call on the sacred power

Of Hecate, Brigid, Kali, and Nuit

Of Cernunnos, Dagda, Thor, and Lugh

Bless us with protection, will, and sight

Now until spell ends, through day and night.

Thea waved her athame in the shape of a pentacle in the air and started to chant, “Earth grow, wind blow, fire glow, water flow…”

Erika and Donna joined her. Kate fisted her finger inside her palm, continuing to put pressure on the cut, and closed her eyes. She let the chant whisper out from her lips, let herself become lost in the moment. As tired as she was, it wasn’t hard. The weight of her narcolepsy strained against her, the twitches of muscle and the deep pull of slumber just at the edge of her consciousness. It had been two days since she had last taken a pill, and the heaviness pressed into her, rippled her surroundings with light and tingling sensations, a shift in time as she faded from the present. The incense, the sound of the river and passing storm, the cool breeze at her neck, and the dull ache in her body—all amalgamated together into a surreal moment as though she were outside of her body looking down on herself.

Then a floating sensation, like being on a raft in a lake, drifting, swaying. Kate pictured a lagoon, one she had envisioned during her last protection rite with Thea. Only this time, it was dark outside and she was in the water. Bright lights gleamed and crossed around her. A humming sound rose in the distance, a boat, and the drone of an engine grew louder as the boat approached her in the water. The boat steered straight towards her. She spun around for help in the cold, dark lagoon. The boat wasn’t slowing, the driver unaware that she lay in its path. It was going to run her down.

Scenes flashed before her, scenes of the past, of dreams, and events she didn’t understand. Nick shouted at her in one of them, and then the scene switched to Thea again. She held onto the statue. Gunfire exploded around her and broke the silence like marbles spilled from a rooftop. Kate opened her eyes, aware that she had been the only one chanting.

“Sorry. I just dozed off,” she said. The present was now crisp and absent of the haze surrounding her a moment ago.

Thea’s gaze lingered on her. “You saw something.”

“I don’t know what I saw,” Kate replied.

“I felt your fear…your panic.”

Erika’s stare intensified on the two of them. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

“Was it Rán?” Thea asked.

“No. It was you,” Kate said.

Erika and Donna turned to Thea.

“She’s using me as a vessel,” Thea said.

“What do you mean, using you as a vessel?” Kate questioned.

“Rán knows that you trust me.”

“Do I?”

Erika stepped back from the rock, eyes hard on Thea. “What are you not telling us Thea?”

Kate realized then that neither Donna nor Erika had mentioned the statue. Did they not know about it?

“I have nothing to hide,” Thea said.

That wasn’t true, Kate thought. In her vision, she held onto the statue. Could she have it now?

“Let’s just finish the spell,” Donna said, looking to Thea and Erika.

Thea pulled four string bracelets from her bag, each equipped with four beads: green, yellow, red, and blue. “We have to move fast. Quick,” she handed one to Donna, Kate, and Erika. “Pass these through the elements and put them on.”

Donna did so with worried eyes. Both Kate and Erika did the same and slipped the bracelets over their left wrists. Wind whipped their hair across their faces and made the center candles flutter again.

Thea cupped her hands around the candle so it wouldn’t blow out. “Okay,” she said. “Put your hands in the middle, above this flame and repeat after me:

Powers bind, this bracelet of mine

To protect the wearer at all times,

From curse and harm, and thievery of will

So mote it be, this spell is now sealed.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Erika said to Thea.

Thea reached for the bottle of Hennigan’s whiskey that Kate had brought. “I always have.”

Each of the girls looked at one another, a look that hinted of both uncertainty and fear.

Thea unscrewed the lid and gulped down a large swallow. Her face tightened up. She passed the bottle to Donna. “Drink up, ladies. It’s time to close the circle.”

Donna took a small swig and handed the bottle to Kate. Kate did the same, her mouth watering and throat tightening from the hot, sweet taste of alcohol. She held the bottle out to Erika. She didn’t reach for it right away, still staring hard at Thea.