Wicked Tempest: A Kate Waters Mystery (Kate Waters Mysteries Book 2) (14 page)

***

The blue glow of the monitor reflected off the half-empty wineglass Kate held in her left hand. A painful search through additional transactions in California on David’s credit card left her with a boiling cauldron of soured jealousy and a half-chewed lip. There were restaurant bills, grocery stores, gas, even Netflix.

David had withdrawn from her because he was getting back together with his ex-wife, Robyn. He had even told her once that they never really had a heated divorce, they just sort of grew apart and went their separate ways. Maybe now, they were growing back together.

Outside, a car door slammed shut. It startled her from her seat. Andre’s promise rose like the undead, hungry to threaten her again. With a shaking hand, she set her glass of wine on the table. The door was still locked. She went to the living room window and peeked out, praying she wouldn’t find Andre’s red car parked in her driveway. All she saw was her own car, but up the street, she saw a new car parked, one that blended in with the shadows of the neighborhood, and there was no mistaking the yellow government-issued license plate on the back. Detective Wells.

He knocked on the door again and announced his name. Kate answered with a jitter in the pit of her stomach. While it was much better having to deal with him than with Andre, she anticipated the reason for his visit. “Hello, Detective. How are you?” She glanced back at the clock in the living room; it was 8:30 p.m.

“Good evening, Kate. Mind if I come in?”

“Of course not.” She opened the door and offered to take his coat and hat.

“I won’t be long.”

Kate thought she saw anger tucked into his straight face. “What’s going on?” she asked, leading him into the kitchen, wondering if Andre had pressed charges against her for coming over to his house.

Wells sat down on a stool at the counter. He folded his hands and looked up at her. “Kate, why didn’t you tell me that Andre had come over to your house?”

Kate sighed, realizing the direction of conversation implied he was on her side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was important.”

“Somebody leaves a dead snake on your doorstep, and considering your recent history with dangerous men, you don’t think that’s important?”

“I didn’t think it was important enough to bug you with. Believe it or not, I can deal with most of my own troubles.”

Wells shook his head. “You sound like my daughter, Julie.”

Kate didn’t think that was a compliment, but she liked the fact that Wells was interested in her well-being enough to be worried about her. It was more than David seemed to have for her at the moment.

“The last time someone played a prank on you, Kate, they wanted to kill you.”

“That was different.”

Wells shot her a frown. “Brooke is dead. Brooke had a dead snake on her doorstep too. Did you know that?”

“Yes, I did, but Brooke’s death was an accident, right?”

Wells paused, seemingly to question her statement, as though maybe her death wasn’t an accident after all.

A chill wrapped around Kate. “Wasn’t it?”

“So far,” Wells finally replied. “I’m still making sure that’s the case.”

The statement caught Kate off guard. “Are you saying you have doubts about what killed her?”

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” Wells replied. “There are things that don’t add up like they should. A lot of questions have risen lately, so I want you to stay out of all of it, which includes not going over to Andre’s house.”

Kate went to the refrigerator and poured two glasses of water. “Or you’ll ground me?” She smiled jokingly, but Wells didn’t reciprocate.

He took the water from her and kept his head low. “Julie gets tired of hearing me lecture her, too.”

“I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Well, I can’t speak for Julie, but I do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

Wells set his glass down. “If you want my help, you’re going to have to take it, share what you know, and most of all, be careful.”

“I know.” An image of the statue in her closet surfaced and nagged at her like the dirty secret it was, but telling Wells about it could put Thea in trouble, and worse, maybe even Wells himself since he would take it with him. She couldn’t see him performing a protection spell. Keeping the statue secret was best for everyone.

“I wanted to surprise Andre with proof that I knew about his affair with Brooke,” Wells said. “Catch him off guard, see what I could uncover, but then I find out you’d already broke the news to him.”

“That wasn’t my intention. I wanted to confront him about the snake. Hindsight, I should have just stayed out of it.”

Wells scratched at the new growth on his face. “Maybe Brooke had some of his things at her house and didn’t want you and Thea to find out about his relationship with her.”

Kate nodded in agreement. That and a very expensive statue.

She hated lying to Wells, but she had to. It was then that she wondered why David had lied to her. How did he justify it?

Kate hadn’t planned on going to McKell’s to meet Nick, had actually decided on doing the opposite, but she did just that, desperately needing to get out after her conversation with Wells. Upon opening the glass-paned wood door, she scanned the booths for Nick. Leftover, festive St. Patrick’s décor cheered the dimly lit corners with shiny-green clovers. Bulletins of brewer’s fests, parades, and local bands were pinned over an entire wall in the back. A shelf circling the perimeter of the bar near the ceiling held a large collection of beer steins, and the mirrors at the bar had ribbons of streamers lacing down from the top.

When Kate didn’t see Nick, her reflex was to turn around and go back home, fume some more, but home was the last place she wanted to be. She didn’t want to think about David, Robyn, Thea, Andre, or the damn statue. Kate chose to stay anyway, order a drink. Maybe two. She strode up to the bar.

The server walked over to her. “What can I get you?”

“A greyhound, please.”

Kate had to make a conscious effort to not tap her heel as nervous energy coursed through her, mostly from recent events, but some on the chance that Nick would show up. She felt wrong being there, no matter what David was doing. Her mind strayed back to the online receipts. Anger bubbled to the surface again as she thought about David and Robyn watching movies on the couch together. Her stomach churned with a fiery ball of acid.

The server came back with her drink. Kate handed him a twenty, but someone had come up behind her and pushed it back to her.

“My treat.” Nick turned to Kate with that golden smile of his. “I didn’t think you would show.”

Kate found it hard to look at him, not wanting to familiarize herself with the intimacies of his face, the curvature of his lips, and the attractive sparkle that deepened the gold in his eyes. “How did you put it?” she said. “Work acquaintances?”

He laughed. “Yes, absolutely. I’m over there.” He laid his hand on the small of her back and gestured to his table. A crowd of voices in her head shouted at Kate, but she blatantly ignored them all, even the one that was Jev’s. Kate switched them all off like a radio and sat down across from Nick. It was difficult to hear him over the clamor of voices that filled the bar, so she scooted her chair closer to him to hear better.  

“So what changed?” Nick asked.

My boyfriend is a cheating asshole
. It was an honest thought. After a second of consideration, Kate knew this was information not to be shared with a man who had a “thing” for her. She called it a “thing” because that was what it was, not a crush or love or an obsession, hopefully not that. Maybe that was what David had for Robyn too. A thing.

“It’s only a drink, right?” Kate lifted her glass to his. He tilted a Mirror Pond Ale bottle to her and gently clinked the glass.

Nick leaned in closer. “Are you asking me or yourself?”

Perceptive, Kate thought. “Both?”

Nick paused at that, then pointed to her cheek. “How’s the cut?”

Kate forgot she had taken off the butterfly strip. The cut had scabbed over. “It doesn’t hurt.” She took a sip of her drink and slid her eyes to a man walking over to their table. He was dressed in a royal blue button-up shirt and black khaki pants. The short crop of his hair suggested he worked in a uniform job.

Nick turned in his direction. “Anyone tell you that you have terrible timing?”

The man grinned. His eyes skimmed over Kate. “I think it’s perfect timing.” He held his hand out to her. “You must be Kate.

Kate shook his hand and glanced at Nick. “Yes.”

“Kate,” Nick said, while the man pulled a chair from a table behind them and sat at the end of their table, “this is an old friend of mine, Keith Davidson.”

“Officer Keith Davidson,” Keith corrected him. He reached for Kate’s hand again and kissed the top of it.

“Nice to meet you,” Kate said, though she didn’t really mean it after his exaggerated attempt to be charming.

Nick scooted back in his seat and shook his head at Keith.

“You must be quite the ladies’ man,” Kate said.

Keith smiled. “Never hurts to try.” He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a handful of pistachio seeds and began cracking them open, dispersing the shells on a napkin in front of him. He saw her eyeing the mess. “Sorry about that,” he said, wiping shells that had spilled off. “Better than smoking, right?”

Kate noted the look of sarcasm on Nick’s face. He turned to her and mouthed the word, sorry.

“So,” Keith said, biting down on another pistachio. “The two of you hang out here often?”

“No,” Nick said. “We’re actually here on business, discussing the dive.”

Kate appreciated Nick downplaying their visit. He was a gentleman, and this carried a certain weight of trust with her.

Keith gave Nick a mocking smile. “Oh, a business drink. Isn’t that how it all starts?”

Nick rolled his eyes.

Keith turned to Kate. “Kate…is it just Kate or formally Catherine?”

“It’s Kaitlyn,” she said.

“Kaitlyn…?”

“Waters.”

“Kaitlyn Waters…”

It seemed as if Keith was digging for something, and a stitch of unease threaded into Kate’s gut.

“Why does that sound familiar?”

Kate thought the way Keith crooked his mouth and squinted his eyes that he knew exactly who she was and was about to drag her skeletons from the closet. As a police officer, he had most likely heard of her sister’s case. She suspected Nick would probably find out anyway even if Keith didn’t mention it, and didn’t see much sense in hiding what had happened and who she was. At least she would be the one exposing her past and not Keith.

“Six months ago, my sister was murdered. Jevanna Waters. You probably heard about her case.” Nick’s expression twisted with shock. Keith’s remained neutral.

Nick shifted in his seat and set his beer down on the table. “I’m so sorry to hear that. If I had known.…”

“Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t have possibly known.”

Nick passed Keith a venomous glare.

Keith ignored it. “Did they catch the guy?” He signaled for the waitress to bring him a beer.

Kate only nodded, hoping her silence conveyed the desire to switch the conversation to something else.

“Good. I hope he rots in jail,” Keith said.

“He’s dead.”

Nick raised his hand to Keith. “I don’t think Kate’s in the mood to talk about the subject.”

“It’s okay, Nick,” Kate said.

“Well, it’s not like I purposely brought it up. How was I to know?” Keith responded.

Kate sensed this was a lie. Somehow, he knew, but it wasn’t how he knew that bothered her, but why, as though he’d researched her. “Unfortunately, it’s a part of my life that I can’t ignore,” she said. “We can’t run away from what pains us most.”

A spark lit up in Keith’s eyes. He nodded at her. “Very wise words,” he said, glancing at Nick. “Advice you should follow.”  

Nick and Keith fixed each other with the same dark stare. “Kate is wiser and stronger than the two of us put together,” Nick said. “I wouldn’t mess with a woman who wrestles with sharks and tornadoes.”

“Danger does seem to be following me,” Kate replied. She took a sip of her beer. Nervous energy bubbled inside her again and set her foot tapping.

Keith frowned at her. “You think death has a contract out on you?” He watched the legs of the waitress as she approached with his beer. He gave her a wink.

“Something like that,” Kate said. “Last week, I found a girl who had been electrocuted in her house. Police think she was struck by lightning.” She looked at Keith, studying him to see if he knew anything about it, if he would reveal something that maybe Wells hadn’t.

“You mean she was dead when you found her?” Nick asked.

“Yes. It was pretty creepy.”

Keith spoke up, but in a voice softer than she thought he was capable of. “Her name wouldn’t happen to be Brooke Jennings, would it?”

A small tickle swirled in the back of Kate’s throat at the mention of Brooke’s name. “Yes, that was her.”

Nick angled his head at Keith. “How’d you know that?”

“I do work at the police station,” he said. “Word travels.”

Kate wondered what was going on between them. There seemed to be some kind of power struggle, like Nick had with Barry when they were diving.   

Keith downed more of his beer. He stood up and held his hand out to shake Kate’s. “You know what, I gotta run, but it was nice meeting you.”

Kate shook his hand. “Likewise.”

He pointed at Nick. “We’ll talk soon.”

Nick relaxed his shoulders at Keith’s departure. “Sorry about Keith and his rudeness. He seems to think he’s entitled to open up everyone’s personal lives with his shiny badge.”

Kate shrugged. “I could tell, but don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal.”

Nick tapped his fingers on the table, seemingly inflicted with the same nervous energy as she. “You are a very interesting woman, Kaitlyn Waters.”

Kate was about to disagree with him when a blanket of darkness fell around them. The lights flickered back on and then dropped back into blackness again.

A wave of raised voices crested until the bartender rang a bell and called for everyone to remain seated. “We have lanterns that we’re going to bring out, so just hold tight everyone.”

“Why am I not surprised by this,” Nick said to her.  

“It’s kind of becoming our trademark.”

“I’m beginning to think you or I are cursed.”

Kate bristled at the comment. “Don’t say that.”

“You superstitious?”

“No, but maybe we shouldn’t press our luck.”

“Hopefully we don’t run out of it,” Nick replied.

Just as Kate was thinking the same, her hand knocked into her glass, and it crashed to the floor. The sound of glass breaking rang out. “Oh, crap—”

“Is that what I think it was?” Nick asked, with a laugh.

“Did I get you?”

The lights flickered back on. Nick had stood up, but fortunately wasn’t covered in her beer.

“No. I’ll get you another one.”

“I probably shouldn’t.” She bent over to pick up the pieces of glass.

Nick kneeled down to help her, then stopped. “Is that a tattoo on your neck?”

“What?” Kate replied. She didn’t have any tattoos and so couldn’t imagine what he was talking about.

“There’s a mark on your neck.”

Kate reached her hand to the nape of her neck. The scabbed-ridges of skin were tender to the touch. “What kind of mark?” she asked, turning around to face him.

Nick leaned back to the side to look at it again. “It kind of looks like a snowflake or a wheel.”

A vision of the mark on the back of Brooke’s neck burned bright in Kate’s mind. A shudder shook through her. The mark was the sign of the curse. It was on the statue. It had appeared on Brooke, and now, it was imprinted on her.

All the doubt Kate had wrestled with over the last few days about the curse and Rán fled like a flock of crows, and the cold, awful truth stared her in the face. It was just like Keith had said. Death did have a contract out on her.

***

A dark rain blew through the police station parking lot and rocked against Wells’ car. The gusts were at least 40 mph, he thought. The trees leaned to the side, shedding petals and leaves like a blizzard snowfall. Wells turned on his police scanner before heading home. He wasn’t on duty tonight, but if the weather was any indication of what the night was to bring, he readied himself for more trouble.

His cell phone buzzed on the dashboard. It was John, the medical examiner. Wells answered.

“I’ve got interesting news,” John said, in a tone that suggested the news was more than just interesting.

“I guess that’s better than bad,” Wells said.

“Depends on how you look at it.”

“I’m an open sort of guy. Go ahead.”

John sighed. “I’ve been studying the tissue taken from Brooke’s neck, and I confirmed again that it was tissue damage from high voltage.”

“Right…but maybe not Lichtenberg’s Flowers?” Wells asked.

“I’m still unsure. The marking is unique.”

Wells paused. He didn’t like the sound of “unique.” Unique implied something out of the ordinary, and something out of the ordinary usually meant the involvement of someone. “Like something other than a lightning bolt caused the mark?”

“Maybe.” John cleared his throat. “From what I can tell, the tissue doesn’t correspond with damage that occurs on the outside of the epidermis, where most injuries occur, and that’s because most injuries are caused by external inflictions. The mark on Brooke’s neck seems to have started from underneath her skin.”

“Underneath. How could that happen?”

“That’s a good question. When I put the tissue sample under the scope, as far as I could tell, the damage to tissue in the dermis region worsened as it went deeper, which is the opposite of external injuries where the top layers of tissue receive the most damage.”