Truth Is Found (21 page)

Littlemoon Investigations

Owner’s Apartment

He was a coward and he knew it.

Justin Littlemoon did something he vowed he’d never do in all his life. When the going got tough, he took the easy way out.

Actually, it was worse than that.

He’d abandoned his wife.

In his grief, he simply couldn’t head home the previous night. While he wanted to help Vivian through all this emotional turmoil, he just couldn’t do it.

Justin was aching too as he carried the burden of their loss. It was tearing him apart.

He wanted to weep.

He wanted to rage.

He wanted to drink.

The last time he fell into the bottle, he and Julian had a fight. Since then, he’d not touched the stuff. With his PTSD, it triggered a darker, more out of control, part of him.

Justin knew that once he started, it would take one hell of a force to stop him. So, he was fighting it.

Only, it wasn’t working.

He was losing the battle.

As he hid in his brother’s apartment, wallowing in his own grief, Justin found something to get him through it all--
his brother’s beer.

He’d only been looking for something to eat as his hid from his wife like a pathetic coward, but instead he found booze.

Maybe he knew it would be there waiting, and that’s why he showed up there. Their home was always somewhere he felt safe.

Tori and Julian were his lifeline, and he wanted to reach out for the two people he called best friends.

Yet he couldn’t.

He had to be strong and hold up.

Then he had one beer.

It turned into two.

Slowly, it numbed the pain so much that he didn't want to go home. He didn't want to think about the wife who was calling him to see if he was okay.

No, he kept drinking.

All the while, he kept sinking.

Deeper and deeper, he fell into the darkness that once controlled him. Gone was the light in his life and gone was his child. It controlled him so much that he did something so out of character that he wasn’t sure who he was anymore.

He grabbed any money he could find from his brother’s home, and he snuck out.

He was going to the bar.

Scaling the fire escape, to avoid using the elevator that led downstairs to work, he headed to a place where he could dull the pain even more.

Once there, he took a seat at the sticky bar and let the pain own him. “Give me an entire bottle,” he stated, dropping the money on the counter.

Then he began drowning his sorrows, his liver, and what was left of his marriage.

One shot after another, ignoring all the sounds around him as he focused on two things.

Numbing the pain and getting to the bottom of the bottle.

       
         
* * *
  L   i   t   t   l  e  m  o  o  n  * * *

Hotel Parking Lot

Tori glanced down at the clock on the dashboard. It was just about time. As she checked her digital camera, she flipped through the pictures. She would have enough to nail Sheila Nelms to the wall.

All Julian had to do was make the decision to tell Daniel. That was his thing, and she knew it. He ran their business, and if he opted to keep it to himself, she understood.

Tori trusted her husband implicitly.

As she sat there, she watched a door open halfway down the building. Immediately, she knew who it was. The auburn hair gave him away. While it wasn’t as flame red as hers, she would recognize it anywhere.

Then she saw the woman.

He was holding her hand.

Tori, in investigator mode, began snapping more pictures. She took them of her own brother, but mostly of the woman. She didn't know why, but she was compelled to catch them on film.

Beau was leading her to his car, and she wasn’t letting go of his hand. When she slipped in, he leaned down to say something. Quickly, he released her hand, slammed the door, and raced around to the driver’s side. Once in, he reached over to touch her face.

Oh boy.

This was a bad sign.

Her brother was getting attached.

She could read it in his expression and his actions. The way he looked over at the woman said one thing.

Someone got bit by the love bug.

Crap!

Crap!

Crap!

What was he thinking?

This was the job!

At some point, they were going to head out of town, and here was her brother, cozying up to the woman who was channeling their dead brother.

Jesus!

When had their lives gotten so insane? That sentence alone was enough to make her want to roll her eyes in disbelief.

This was going to be a mess.

Tori could feel it to her bones.

They were going to have to have a little conversation, and soon. Someone needed to step in and keep her brother’s heart safe. After all, she felt a responsibility to him. He was her only flesh and blood left.

Beau mattered to her.

As they pulled away, Tori’s focus was pulled back to Sheila’s rented hotel room. The door was open, and she was heading out.

Only, she wasn’t in leather.

She was back in her normal clothes, dumping the shopping bag in the trash beside her car. Then she paused, if waiting for something.

Tori was appalled by the disposable debauchery.

What a tramp…

It looked like Tori was right about the time frame. Ninety minutes, and they were done.

How conscientious of them.

As she turned in her seat, the mystery man showed up in the doorway. He was zipping his pants, and he looked smug.

Someone definitely got their sex on.

When he moved toward the woman, Tori waited to catch any more damning evidence. This couldn’t be a one-time thing.

There was emotion there.

Tori continued snapping pictures. When Sheila was pulled back into his arms, and the man kissed her like he was trying to lick her esophagus, Tori started snickering to herself.

She was good.

Damn good.

She’d nailed this one on the head.

Oh, someone was going to be getting divorce papers, and soon. That was for damn sure.

Sheila broke away, gave the man a good frontal grope--which Tori also caught on film--and then hopped in her expensive car.

As she pulled away, Tori had a few choices.

Follow the woman, who was likely going back to the vineyard, or follow Mr. Lucky.

Yeah, that was a no brainer.

When he hopped into his Mercedes, she got ready to tail the man. It was funny, but he was heading back the same way Sheila had…

The only two places out there was Darkwood Monastery and…

Holy Shit!

Tori drove and snapped pictures of the man heading right past the vineyard and to the neighboring one.

When he pulled in, parked, and jogged into the building with an ease of familiarity, Tori grinned.

Sheila wasn’t only having an affair.

She was having it with someone affiliated with the competition.

This was insane!

The woman was sleeping with the enemy.

“Oh, Mrs. Nelms, what a tangled web we weave when we practice to deceive.”

       
         
* * *
  L   i   t   t   l  e  m  o  o  n  * * *

Bluebird Diner

Inside, Beau picked a quiet little booth where he and Nyx could sit and have breakfast.

Well, more like brunch.

Sitting beside her, his leg was firmly against hers, so he was able to let go of her hand to drink his coffee and eat. She looked nervous, and he didn't blame her. When he had to let go of her hand, so she could get into his car, the screaming in her head began again.

Trey wanted her attention, and she didn't want to deal with him quite yet.

He understood why she was nervous.

Beau didn't believe it was all about the voice of his dead brother.

In the hotel, he’d kissed her, and it had been scorching hot. She flushed, his body reacted, and Beau knew that it wouldn’t be the last.

Yeah, that had to be part of it.

Or at least he hoped it was.

“Why don’t you tell me about you?” he asked.

“Why?” she replied.

“You say that a lot,” he teased, pouring creamer into his coffee. He noticed that she took it black. “We’re attached at the hip--literally--so it might be nice to know you a little better. That’s all. I swear I don’t have any ulterior motives.”

That was a lie.

He absolutely did.

Beau was already thinking about kissing her again, and he probably would. No woman made him feel like that before, and while patient, he wasn’t a saint.

He’d seen her naked, and he wanted her. Despite the demons which haunted her head, mainly his dead brother, he still craved Nyx. She called to him.

She laughed as she sipped her coffee. “Yeah, I guess I do say that a lot, but you bring it out in me.”

“What else do I bring out in you?” he asked.

She stared at him openmouthed. “Seriously? Some things shouldn’t be said out loud.”

Beau winked. “You don’t have to answer that. It was rhetorical. I can tell what you’re thinking thanks to that flush of your skin.”

Nyx swallowed.

This man tied her up in knots, and she couldn’t fight him. She could still feel his lips against hers and his tongue plumbing the depths of her mouth.

She was heating up just thinking about him.

“Now, really, tell me about you. We’re stuck together for the time being.”

“Yeah, lucky you. Beau, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but fate screwed you. I’m a walking disaster.”

“I agree that I’m very lucky. I get to have a meal with a beautiful woman. If that’s being screwed, bring it on, fate! Do your worst.”

She slapped her hand over his mouth. “Didn't you ever hear the saying,
‘don’t tempt fate’
?”

He grinned and mumbled something into her hand.

She couldn’t believe her ears. Here, a sexy, handsome, rakish man wanted her. There was no doubt she was dead. She must have drowned in the river after all. There was no way this was happening.

“What?” he asked, as she began laughing.

“I’m dead.”

“What?” he asked again, the coffee pausing halfway to his now free lips.

“You’re sexy, we ended up in bed, and you’re not running from me screaming. There’s no way I’m alive. I died last night, and this has to be my heaven. Which angel are you? Raphael? Michael?”

Oh, he was no damn angel--
that was for sure
. Instead of arguing, he simply grinned. “Well, if that’s the case,” he began before leaning over to kiss her again. This time, she didn't even hesitate. In fact, she kissed him as if she was going to devour him.

Beau’s brain nearly went haywire.

When he pulled away, he couldn’t breathe, and the telltale bulge in his jeans told the whole story.

Christ!

He wanted her.

“See. Men don’t kiss me like that, and I don’t kiss them like that either. I’m definitely dead. This is empirical proof that I’m fish bait at the bottom of the river.”

Beau still couldn’t think, so arguing wasn’t going to happen. Luckily for him, he was saved as the waitress came and placed their food in front of them.

It was hard not to stare as Nyx dumped enough butter on her pancakes to kill a person.

She noticed him watching her, so she cleared it up. “Since this is heaven, I don’t care about my cholesterol.”