When Will I See You Again (10 page)
Raoul shook his head. “Doesn’t that just figure? C’mon then.
Looks like I’m stuck doing that, too. Luckily for you, my car’s at the club. I’ll drive you to work. Or to your place. Whatever you like.” He started to stride toward the door, but turned at the sound of Alexx’s delicate cough. “What?”
“Um, you thinking of going out like that?” Trying to be diplomatic, he indicated Raoul’s state of undress with a wave of his hand. Wouldn’t exactly do for him to be charged with indecent exposure, no matter how much Alexx liked looking at his naked body.
Raoul glanced down at himself. Without a word, he strode back and snatched the sheet from the cot. He wrapped it about himself, fashioning a makeshift toga. “There. Does that satisfy your delicate sensibilities?” he growled before stalking from the cabin.
I could stare at you naked all day…and all night.
Alexx made no reply, hastening after the sheeted form, closing the cabin door behind him. Raoul stopped suddenly, bending low to the ground. Alexx wasn’t prepared and plowed directly into him from behind. He hastily grabbed Raoul’s hips to keep from toppling them both over.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for my phone.”
“Why would it be out here?”
Raoul’s expression was exasperated as he turned toward Alexx.
“You ask fucking stupid questions sometimes for a reporter. What do you think? I changed out here. I didn’t exactly have time to pick up my cell phone, or the means to do it.” He picked up what looked to Alexx like a bit of rag from the ground, patting it.
“Damn. Not here. Shit.” Pulling a set of keys from the tatters, he glanced at Alexx. A wry smile graced his lips—Alexx still held on to his hips. “Never mind. I’ll find it later. Or get a new one.
Let’s get you home. Or work. Wherever you want to go.”
He didn’t wait for Alexx’s response, which was just as well. At that moment, Alexx wanted to be where Raoul was. He tried to dispel the crazy notion, then gave up and decided to enjoy what little time he might have with the petulant lycanthrope.
The path out of the woods was circuitous, or so it seemed to Alexx. He wondered if this was being done on purpose, so he couldn’t find his way back to Raoul’s little cabin in the woods.
What purpose did the cabin serve? If Alexx asked him, would Raoul tell him? Would he answer any questions that were put to him, or did he plan to be evasive all of his life?
All too soon, they emerged into the sunlight, standing on the edge of the field. The parking lot of Charisma lay just beyond. It was a lot emptier than when Alexx had last seen it. Not surprising, since the club wasn’t open during the day and most everyone had gone home. Those cars that were left probably belonged to patrons that had gotten lucky last night and gone home with someone else.
They trudged across the field. Alexx had finally, albeit reluctantly, relinquished his hold on Raoul. If he had time, he’d go home and shower and shave for work. But he didn’t, so he’d have to make do as he was. Such as he was. His jacket was torn, but he
could take that off if need be.
Glancing at the parking lot, it didn’t take a genius to figure out which vehicle was Raoul’s. It had to be that very fancy, very expensive sports car that was parked on the edge of the lot. It was dark blue and beautiful, with very sleek lines. It probably cost more than he’d ever earn in a lifetime, not even counting insurance, taxes, and maintenance.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Alexx glanced at Raoul. His brows were drawn together, and he quickened his pace. Alexx hastened his own steps in order to keep up with him. Looking in the direction of Raoul’s displeasure, he saw what he’d failed to notice before, engrossed as he was with both Raoul and his car. A police car sat near the sports car. He could make out Crescent Bay Police Department on the door.
A uniformed officer peered inside the driver’s window. He straightened up at their approach, his gaze flicking between the toga-clad Raoul and Alexx. Only belatedly did Alexx realize what a sight he must present, his clothes being somewhat the worse for wear after last night’s escapade.
“Morning, Raoul,” he greeted him.
“Ivan,” Raoul responded perfunctorily. “What’s going on here?
Is something wrong at the club?”
“No, nothing,” he assured him. “But I do need you to come to the station with me, if you don’t mind.”
“Whatever for?”
Alexx watched Raoul. His eyes narrowed, he folded his arms across his chest contentiously, staring at the policeman.
Ivan stared back, shifting from one foot to the other. He removed his cap, ran one hand through his close-cropped hair, then replaced it. “I don’t know any of the details,” he admitted. “But
apparently there was a murder last night.”
“And?”
“And they told me to bring you in because you’re a person of interest, Raoul. I’m sorry.”
“You’re fucking kidding me, right? It’s too early in the morning for this, Ivan.” He raised his keyless remote and pressed the button. Instantly, the lights of his Ferrari blazed on, and the locks clicked open, the engine purring like a well-tuned kitten.
“Get in,” he growled to Alexx, motioning with his head toward the passenger side.
“Hold on just a minute there.” Ivan interposed his stocky body between Raoul and the car, thick hand outstretched. “C’mon, Raoul, you know better. Turn it off, please. Don’t make me have to do it for you. You know I will.”
“You and what army?” Raoul growled. He wasn’t in the mood for this shit, and it certainly wasn’t funny. He was up far too early for his liking. His body ached, despite his protestations that he was
fine. He needed a shower and a good stiff drink—not necessarily in that order. Glancing at Alexx, he noticed a distinct lack of movement on his part, despite his instructions. In fact, he’d stepped closer, as if closing ranks. Ivan’s voice drew his attention back to the current situation.
“Me and whatever army it takes, Raoul. We’ve known each other too long to do this, you can’t bullshit me. So why don’t you just come along and talk to the chief? I’m sure whatever it is can be cleared up quickly, but only if you cooperate.”
This was definitely not how he’d planned to spend his day.
Although the faces of the tourists changed with each passing season, the year-round residents of Crescent Bay were a stable population, and everyone knew everyone else. Raoul had gone to school with Ivan’s older brother. He narrowed his eyes, watching the other closely. “So, who did I supposedly murder?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t tell me.” The policeman’s eyes dropped to the ground, instantly arousing Raoul’s suspicions.
“They didn’t tell you, or you don’t want to say?”
The officer flushed. “I swear, Raoul, I don’t know the vic’s name.” He held up both hands in the air to protest the impugnation of his honor. Raoul’s gut told him he might not know the name of the deceased, but he knew something he wasn’t telling.
That left him with a decision to make.
He could stand here and argue the point, needlessly burn gas, and keep his car’s engine running. He could phone the family lawyer, Lowery Ellison—it wouldn’t be the first time he’d called on him to bail him from some mess, although usually it was one of his own making. He could even call his father. Of all his options, that was the least desirable. Philippe Marchand would not be amenable to being disturbed so early on the morning after the full
moon. Especially if it involved suspected criminal activity on the part of his son who was old enough to know better. No, Raoul decided, he’d have to handle this himself.
He switched the car off and pressed the button. It locked with a sharp chirp. Without thinking, he automatically tried to pocket the key. It dropped to the pavement with a clink, drawing attention to his state of undress. He heard a muffled giggle. Glancing at Alexx, he found his bright blue eyes fixed on him. On an impulse he couldn’t explain, Raoul gave him a wide grin, before turning back toward Ivan.
“Maybe you should frisk me, officer,” he playfully suggested, assuming a faux angelic expression. He spread his arms wide for Ivan’s benefit in order to display his “pure” intentions and began to turn in a tight circle that threatened the integrity of the sheet.
Glimpsing the other man’s face, he gained a measure of satisfaction at his obvious discomfort at the prospect of having to pat him down with only a thin sheet providing a barrier between them.
“Shitfire.” The exasperated policeman swore under his breath, kicking his foot against the asphalt. “You’re doing this on purpose, Raoul. You know if I did that my wife would never let me hear the end of it. She lives for that kind of thing.”
“What kind of thing?” Alexx innocently asked.
“Never mind,” Raoul interrupted. “I’ve an idea, Ivan, how’s this? I promised Alexx I’d give him a ride to work. Why don’t I drop him off, and stop by my place and get dressed?”
“Who’s Alexx?”
Raoul jerked a thumb in the younger man’s direction.
“That would be me,” Alexx helpfully volunteered, raising his hand.
“I don’t know.” Ivan sounded as though he doubted the wisdom of this particular course of action. He rubbed his jaw, obviously trying to weigh his choices on the scale of lesser and greater evils.
“You can follow me in your patrol car,” Raoul pointed out.
“Yeah, sure, I can follow you, but you and I both know that you can outrun me in that souped-up car of yours.” He pointed at the decked-out Ferrari, then glanced at his own vehicle, which definitely paled in comparison, and shook his head. “I bet yours can get up to two hundred without breaking a sweat.”
“Over two hundred,” Raoul admitted modestly. “All right, if you don’t trust me, then how about if Alexx drives?” He darted a look at the new subject of their conversation. Their eyes locked briefly before Raoul forced himself to look away. “Are you willing?” he asked, uncomfortably aware that the sheet he wore did nothing to conceal his growing interest in the redhead.
“Um, me? Drive that?” His mouth dropped open as he looked at the sports car with disbelief. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a stick shift.”
“It’s an automatic.” Raoul caught Alexx’s gaze once more, putting the full force of his personality into his eyes. He could be very persuasive when he chose to exercise the charming side of his personality—Alexx never stood a chance.
Alexx took a deep breath. “Sure,” he agreed. “On one condition…”
Raoul was taken aback. So the boy wanted to play games, did he? “What condition?” he asked cautiously.
“That instead of dropping me off, you let me go along and cover the story.” He stared back at Raoul unflinchingly before he cheekily added, “And give me an exclusive on whatever it is.”
Raoul had to admire the boy’s spirit, even if it might end up being at his own expense.
The Crescent Bay Chronicle
—the town’s one and only newspaper—belonged to Foster Levine’s father, Joseph. Foster was another childhood acquaintance. Hell, this whole town was filled with people he’d grown up with, lycan and otherwise. He and Foster had had a momentary fling, back in the day, when Raoul’s wound was fresh and his brain too addled to cope with reality. It didn’t take long for Raoul to end it, as he’d ended every liaison—abruptly and on his own terms. The difference with this one was that he didn’t completely cut Foster off, although he couldn’t quite have said why. Perhaps because their fathers were close friends. Raoul tolerated Foster’s frequent presence at Charisma, but he gave him no preferential treatment, and he brushed off any hints at renewing their intimacy, usually in a brusque manner.
He looked at Ivan. The policeman was waiting patiently enough, but for how long? Raoul wasn’t naïve enough to believe they wouldn’t use greater force, if necessary, despite his being a werewolf. There were even a few members of his own pack on the police force, and he didn’t want their loyalty to the family strained by having to choose between him and their jobs. It didn’t seem worth acting up over what would probably turn out to be some minor misunderstanding. If one could look at death in that rather detached way.
He made a sudden decision, handing Alexx the key. “Fine, you’ve got it,” he said. “This may be one gigantic waste of time, but whatever the story is, it’s yours.”
Alexx closed his hand around the key and smiled. Raoul shook his head.
“Quit grinning like the village idiot and open the damn car so we can get going.” Without waiting for a response, he loped around the car to the passenger side, hitching up his toga as he did so.
*
Just to be inside this car was amazing, but to be sitting in the driver seat? That was beyond incredible.
On top of that, he’d just gotten exclusive rights to his first crime story—something he’d dreamed of his entire life—
and
he was also getting to spend time with Raoul. Admittedly it was not an ideal situation, or how he’d choose to spend what might turn out to be their only time together, being involved in a murder investigation. Still, it was a start. Hopefully one that might lead to others. While his heart insisted that Raoul was innocent, he also reminded himself he had a certain journalistic integrity to maintain, as well as at least a minimum of objectivity.