Honey House (12 page)

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Authors: Laura Harner

BOOK: Honey House
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“What’s he want?” I asked.

Gabrielle pursed her lips, a little moue of distaste. “He says he’s here to finish Jason’s story for him,” Gabrielle said.

“You don’t like him,” I stated. The tension in her body when she spoke of the editor telegraphed volumes.

Gabrielle sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just too much with the brother and him both here. I don’t like this business. Something feels wrong and I don’t just mean the murder.”

Gabrielle and I looked at each other then, maybe the first good look of the day. She had dark rings under eyes that were narrowed by some other strong emotion. Fear? Did she think that Jason’s killing was random and that others might be in danger? I’d never considered that before this minute. Jason’s murder felt completely personal to me.

Before I could offer reassurances, I caught the movement as her gaze flicked to my neck and back to my face. It had been quick, but there was no way she’d missed seeing the bite marks. Since it was patently obvious I must have engaged in some pretty rough sex with someone, I expected questions or at least teasing, but Gabi never said a word. Lack of curiosity and failure to make yet another observation on the state of my life were very un-Gabrielle-like. Instead, she just sighed deeply, and pasted on a neutral expression. The thought entered my mind that she was resigned to whatever was happening.

“Let’s catch up to Quinn,” she said, and led the way upstairs.

****

I put my hand out, “I’m Katherine Carmichael. Please, call me KC. I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Brill.”

“Thank you, and please, call me David.”

David Brill looked nothing like his younger brother. Jason’s hair had been auburn and cut short, David’s was more brown, with longer, unruly curls. His deep brown eyes looked sad and a little tired. He was wearing a charcoal business suit that would look out of place anywhere in Juniper Springs. It just wasn’t a suit type of town.

Quinn glared at me, and then continued where he’d left off before I’d interrupted. These questions seemed more “I’m-trying-to-catch-a-killer” type questions than the ones he’d been asking all day. Maybe he really was going to try to catch the murderer.

It didn’t matter; David knew very little about his brother’s life in Phoenix. The family was from Ohio, and he and Jason hadn’t talked much except around the holidays. Nothing strained or unusual, just busy with their own lives.

He planned to stay just long enough to collect Jason’s belongings before flying the body back to Ohio. His mother was gone, so it was just their dad and a half sister, who still lived at home. His voice choked a little on the last.

“I really am sorry, David,” I said, feeling a little at a loss as to what to do.

He nodded and turned away.

Quinn and I exchanged looks before he said, “We’ll give you some privacy. My business card is on the table by the door. Call me if you think of anything. I’ll call you as soon as you can pick up your brother’s belongings. It shouldn’t be too long, maybe a day or two. Will you be staying here, at the Honey House?”

David turned and looked at me, and I answered before he could ask. “David, you are welcome here as long as you like. Take your time.”

He nodded his thanks, and then Quinn and I turned to go.

“Would you two have dinner with me?” he blurted as we reached the door. “I’m sorry. You probably have plans. I just don’t feel like being alone,” he said, his expression forlorn.

Quinn answered first, “I’m sorry, I have other plans for the evening, but I’m sure Miss Carmichael would be happy to join you.”

“That would be fine, David. I’ll meet you downstairs, later,” I said, hoping I sounded gracious. It wasn’t as if I had any real choice. I couldn’t leave the poor guy alone.

When Quinn was walking down the hall and we were well out of David’s earshot, I hissed, “You are such a bastard.”

“Don’t you ever forget it,” he said. I heard the smile in his voice.

Quinn always had a tat for my tit. So to speak.

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

The drive out to The Way They Were was longer than I expected. Of course, that might have been because the directions to the ranch were strangely difficult to find in this age of GPS and the Internet. Didn’t these people know about advertising or web pages?

I'd finally found an obscure entry on a blog about werewolves from a young man who claimed to have had a real encounter on one of the were-safaris. According to S.B. of Seattle, he’d visited Juniper Springs earlier this year with the express purpose of becoming a werewolf himself. His final entry was: “Now I just have to wait for my first full moon so I can shift.”

Sheesh,
people were all kinds of weird, but he at least had attached a map to his post.

The afternoon sun was warm, baking the red rocks and raising the peaty smell of the junipers. It was quiet out here, with only one other vehicle in the dirt lot outside the trailer that served as an office. I don’t know where they parked all the lime-green tour jeeps, but they weren’t in the lot right now. I parked the House’s…uhm…okay,
my
thirty-year-old pickup next to a sleek black late-model truck with tinted windows. I felt as though the whole place vibrated with power when I stepped outside my truck.

A familiar looking cowboy in faded jeans, a denim work shirt, and a cowboy hat sauntered out of the trailer and down the steps.

“Howdy, ma’am. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We’re closed and no one will be back until Friday. Please, just get in your truck and go now.” He said all this in an exaggerated cowboy accent better suited for Oklahoma or Texas. I half expected him to spit a chaw of tobacco out for emphasis.

The cowboy raised his head to peer out from under the broad brim of the summer weight hat. “Shit, KC! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Raymond? How about I ask you the same question?” It was Gabrielle’s husband, and he looked positively unhappy to see me.

“Seriously, KC, we’re closed. Come back Friday and we can talk. Better yet, I’ll meet you Friday morning at your place. I need to get going now. Why don’t you just turn around and I’ll follow you out and chain the gate.”

Ignoring his suggestion, I leaned back against my truck. In case he missed the subtle detail that I wasn’t going anywhere, I tucked my thumbs into the pockets of my jeans and crossed my ankles while I thought about things. I don’t know what I’d expected to find out here, but it sure wasn’t to find someone I knew.

Two weeks ago, I would have sworn TWTW was a gimmick. A place for tourists to spend money and have a unique and slightly scary experience. Nothing more than a southwestern version of a haunted house. I got that they closed up over the full moon to keep up the illusion that werewolves were real. The whole set up was the perfect fodder for Jason’s story.

Could exposing fake were-tours really have been what Jason was talking about when he said he was going to blow the lid off something? His note sounded as though he’d changed his mind. Could he have discovered something of the paranormal experience was authentic? Was it possible that when Jason investigated TWTW he’d discovered the werewolves were real? Not a gimmick?

My brain wanted to resist such an outrageous idea. This was the stuff of Hollywood, not some small Arizona town. That now familiar sensation of warmth flared briefly in my belly.
Shit.
I lived in a real haunted house, why would it be so hard to believe werewolves existed?

Answer? It wasn’t.

Jason was dead. Not just dead…murdered. If he’d discovered werewolves existed—

The dream came back to me, the one with the eyes watching Jason. Someone…something slamming into him, knocking him down. Someone…something cutting away the evidence. Evidence of what? Had a werewolf killed Jason?

“Does Quinn know you’re out here?” Raymond asked, pulling his cell phone from his pocket and jerking me back to reality.

That was an unexpected response to my presence. “Quinn? Why would he care where I am? I’m just trying to find out if Jason Brill made it out here to talk with anyone, and if so, what did he want to know?” I asked.

“Come on, KC, Quinn let you ride around town with him today talking to people. I can’t imagine he’d be too happy to know you’d come out here on your own. It kind of smacks of interfering in an investigation, don’t you think?” he asked, dialing his cell phone as he spoke.

This wasn’t going at all the way I’d expected. I listened while Raymond spoke in rapid Spanish to someone, his side of the conversation quiet and fast. I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. Something about the situation getting out of control. His expression was serious when he handed me the phone.

I took it cautiously, “Hello?” I’d expected it to be Gabrielle, but that wasn’t who was on the other end.

“You have two choices,” Quinn said in a voice that was scary for all the suppressed violence it carried. “Get in your truck and return home now or I will come arrest you and put you in jail for interfering in police business. There is no room for debate or discussion. Choose now, because I am already on my way. If you’re still there when I arrive, you will spend the rest of the week in jail.” The connection was severed.

I handed Raymond back his cell phone with as much dignity as I could muster. I was pissed that he had called Quinn, as if I was some misbehaving child and he was calling my parent.

I wasn’t stupid. I would go for now, because Quinn was just enough of a jerk that he
would
put me in jail, just to prove he could. But, I wouldn’t go without a parting shot.

“What are you trying to hide, Raymond? Why so worried about what I might find? I’m just looking for a little information to help comfort Jason’s family. His brother is upstairs at the Honey House right now, wondering why his little brother is dead. What do I tell him?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, KC, I can’t help you. Now please go.”

****

Gabrielle was gone by the time I returned, which was probably a good thing because I didn’t need to take my anger at her husband out on her. I checked the ledger to see if anyone was staying the night, and found only the same two names. David Brill and Edwin Merkham.
Well, shit.

In my hurry to get to TWTW Ranch, I’d forgotten Jason’s editor had been waiting in the library. It looked as though he would be staying over. The evening was going to be long enough without talking to Merkham, too. I’d rather tackle his questions in the morning, when I was fresher.

I wished I wasn’t meeting David for dinner because I wanted to be done with talking for the day. I’d remembered to stop at G&O on the way home to pick up a roasted chicken. Now I heated a tray of appetizers and tossed the salad with dressing. I’d already set up for dinner in my apartment, since it was a lot more private than the large dining room.

It turned out that I didn’t have to talk. David brought pictures. I just looked and listened as he remembered their childhood, their half sister, their parents, a loving home. He felt guilty at the separation of the last few years. Not one of intent, but a separation of neglect. They’d both been busy living their lives, secure in the knowledge that they would always be there for each other.

After dinner, I walked David to the door, and he thanked me for the evening. I was very glad to have brought him some comfort, but I was desperately tired and needed to be alone.

“Thank you, KC. I don’t know how I would have made it through this night without you.”

“My pleasure, I’ll see you in the morning. There will be lots of coffee, plus a light breakfast, if you’re interested.”

“I could be interested in a lot more,” he whispered softly, and lowered his mouth to mine.

The kiss was a brush of lips, our bodies not touching. It was a tempting offer. I felt emotionally bruised from my contact with Quinn. David was battered from the news of his brother’s death. We could offer each other a gentle loving, and the comfort of another’s arms. But he wasn’t the man I wanted.

I kept the kiss casual and pulled my hips back from the more intimate contact. David pulled his head back, his response showed an immediate awareness that I wasn’t interested in other activities.

“I’m sorry, KC.”

“No need. It was a lovely thought. I’ll see you in the morning, David,” I said and brushed another quick kiss against his mouth.

He quirked a grin at me, so much like his brother’s that it made my heart lurch a little. “You know where to find me, if you change your mind.” He smiled.

I closed the door behind him. It disturbed me to realize that since I’d lived here, I’d been alone in my apartment with three different men and each of them had sexually responded to me. It wasn’t a matter of false modesty. I was attractive enough to garner my share of passes, but I wasn’t anywhere close to irresistible. Three for three seemed a bit much.

Shaking off my thoughts, I practically ran to my bedroom in my desire for bed, for sleep. It had been a very long day after a miserably long night. After the debacle with Quinn yesterday morning, I hadn’t the heart to even go to my room last night. Instead, I’d tossed and turned on the couch, between fitful bouts of sleep.

Now, I stripped naked, pulled the crystal from my pocket, and plopped onto the bed. Suddenly, I was surrounded by the scent of Quinn, and our loving. I breathed in deeply of the musky smell. I told myself I was too tired to change the sheets. I lied.

The crystal began to heat and it was much hotter than it had been in my pocket. I was so tired I couldn’t even reach the nightstand to set it down. I let the crystal slide out of my hand to land beside my pillow, closed my eyes, and I was asleep within seconds.

****

Quinn’s mouth was on my breast, pulling at my nipple hard enough that it pressed against his upper palate. A straight path of desire flared from my breast to my pussy. A moan of hunger escaped my throat and my legs fell open in invitation. His tongue trailed along my ribs, across my belly, lower, reaching between my legs. Hot, wet velvet spread me open, pierced me, and lapped my flowing juices.

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