Authors: Dana Marie Bell
Until she could do a thorough background check, she couldn’t completely write him off, but so far nothing odd stood out. The brief background check she’d done before arriving at his home showed he was a network engineer who worked for Romanov Enterprises.
He had a medium build, and he moved well, like he’d been an athlete in his youth. From the pictures framed on the mantel Beth saw evidence of a past in baseball during his college years.
He was an intelligent, attractive man in his mid-thirties who had been married to an intelligent, attractive woman. And it showed. The Blake home was littered with happy family photos. Jonathan and Jennifer standing on a beach in Hawaii, where they’d obviously been married. Jennifer holding their only child, a tiny daughter named Hailey, one of the first pictures Mr. Blake had shown her. Now four, she had her mother’s blue eyes and her father’s determined chin. There were shots of Jonathan coaching little league softball. Next to that was a shot of Jennifer shaking hands with Todd Blessing, the gubernatorial candidate. Blessing’s campaign poster stood between them, his wife smiling at his side.
If anyone had led a charmed life, it apparently had been Jennifer Blake. A husband who adored her, a child, a home and a fulfilling career that was tumbling her straight toward a life in politics. She’d had it all.
So the question was, who had wanted to take it away?
Beth glanced out the window then grimaced. Dante’s boring beige sedan pulled up to the curb. It was such a cop car. It practically screamed
unmarked
, right down to the discreet cop lights in the back window and the Fraternal Order of Police license plate. “The police are here, Mr. Blake. Detective Dante Zucco. I’m acquainted with him. Would you like me to talk to him for you, or would you like to answer his questions?”
“I’ll talk to him, thank you. Anything to find out who murdered my wife.” Jonathan Blake walked to the front door and opened it just as Dante hit the front step. Beth was two steps behind her client.
“Detective Zucco.” She kept her tone as bland as she could. She’d expected him to show up at some point, but she’d sort of hoped she’d be on her way out the door before then.
He eyed her warily, his expression, as usual, unreadable to her. “Elizabeth.”
She refused to show him just how much the sound of her name, said in his deep voice, affected her. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
“I went to see Purvis.”
“Ah.” Of course he’d gone to check on his partner, and of course Purvis had told him she’d been hired by Mr. Blake. She just hoped Dante wasn’t going to give her any trouble. She’d much rather work with him than against him. “How was he? When I left, he was sleeping.”
Did Dante’s expression actually soften? Hell, monkeys might fly out of her ass any moment now. “He was awake and talking, but tired.”
She nodded, still worried about her old friend. “I’ll check on Lakisha later. She must be exhausted.”
“Call first. I talked her into going home and catching some sleep.”
“Good. She needs it.”
Dante turned away from her to Mr. Blake, holding out his badge. His expression was once more purely professional. “Detective Zucco, Mr. Blake. May I come in, sir? I’m certain Ms. Rand informed you of who I am.”
Mr. Blake waved him inside. He seemed much more comfortable with Dante after listening to their interaction. “Yes, of course. By all means, I know you must have some questions.” Mr. Blake waved them both into his living room.
“Mr. Blake, first I’d like to say I’m sorry for your loss.” Dante sat on the sofa, his gaze darting around, probably picking up the same information Beth had gotten.
“Thank you.” Mr. Blake’s face fell as he took a seat across from Dante.
“Mr. Blake, I have some questions concerning the death of your wife. I want you to know that they’re routine questions, ones we always ask in these types of cases, so please bear with me.”
Beth was surprised at the sympathy in Dante’s voice. She hadn’t expected him to pull the Sympathetic Cop routine. She’d expected him to be cool, all business. She was willing to bet her favorite comfy sweatshirt that Purvis usually played the good guy.
Dante flipped open his notebook, pen poised over paper. “Where were you today at four p.m.?”
Jonathan Blake’s eyes closed in pain. “I was with my daughter. We were shoveling the driveway so Jennifer could get her car into the garage.”
Dante made a note. “And this can be confirmed by the neighbors?”
Mr. Blake nodded. “Yes.”
Dante made another note. “Can you tell me about the people your wife worked with? Did everyone at the campaign office appear to get along?”
“Everyone was eager to see Todd Blessing win the campaign next November. Everyone was on board with that specific goal in mind. He came so close last election that they decided to get everything up and running early. They had a skeleton staff, but it’s a good one, tight.” Mr. Blake swallowed, his face contorting in grief. “Jennifer, especially, wanted to see him win. The two of them have been friends for the last seven years, ever since we all worked together at Romanov Enterprises.”
“So you know Mr. Blessing outside your wife’s work with him?” Dante’s pen poised over the paper.
“Yes. He and his wife are friends of ours. They’ve been over for dinner several times in the past.” He glanced at Elizabeth. “It was because of Todd that I hired Ms. Rand. I don’t want political pressure to keep me from finding out why my wife died, even if it turns out it was some random act and not connected to the campaign. I just want the truth.”
Dante nodded sympathetically. “I can understand that, Mr. Blake. I’m going to do my best to make sure that happens.”
“Thank you.” But Jonathan Blake didn’t seem convinced, and she understood why. Dante might want to find the truth, but there were those with far more power than he had who could stop him.
That was where Beth came in.
“Was there anyone in the office she was especially close to? Someone she might have confided in?”
Mr. Blake seemed to think about it for a moment. “Candace. Candace Grahame. She was Jennifer’s secretary. The two of them were fairly close. Other than that, I can’t think of anyone.”
Dante made a note of the names.
Beth already had them on file and had an appointment to speak with the people at Mrs. Blake’s place of work the following afternoon. “Can you think of any reason why someone would have been rifling through your wife’s briefcase on the evening she died?”
“Jennifer kept all confidential documents in a safe in her office. She very rarely brought paperwork home with her, but if she had, it might be the reason someone wanted her dead. Like any other political campaign there were people who didn’t want to see Blessing win. Maybe one of them thought...” Jonathan Blake began crying softly. “I want the man who murdered my wife, Detective.” He put his head in his hands, sobbing quietly.
Beth stood and dropped a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll find him, Mr. Blake. We’ll do everything we can.” She turned to look at Dante only to find him staring at her with an enigmatic expression.
“Is there anything you can think of that might assist me in this investigation?” He asked the question of Jonathan, but he looked directly at Beth as he asked it.
“You mean something other than what I’ve told you?” Jonathan lifted his head then shook it. His hands were tightly clenched in his lap. “No. I wish I
could
tell you something, but I don’t know anything more.”
The pitter patter of tiny feet on the stairway caused them all to turn. A small girl stood there. “Daddy?”
Jonathan winced, his expression filled with pain of a new sort. “Excuse me.” He stood and went to the little girl. “Yes, sweet pea?”
“When is Mommy coming home?” The child looked trustingly up at her father.
Beth watched as Jonathan Blake struggled to give the child an answer that wasn’t a lie. “Can we talk about it when Daddy is done with his guests, sweetie?”
“But Mommy promised me she’d take me to the skating rink, Daddy. She said she’d show me how to do figure eights.” The little girl’s lip quivered as her blue eyes began to fill with tears.
“I know, baby, I know.”
“Did Mommy have to go to work?” The question was asked with the air of a child who is used to being disappointed by their parent, and Beth’s hands clenched.
She knew all about childhood disappointment. It was one of the reasons she and Andi used to coach girls’ softball together at the local YMCA and why she was trying to get Andi back into it. The two of them had a lot to give to girls who didn’t have the best home life. While Beth’s parents had been at best absent, Andi’s had gone the other way, driving her insane with rules and restrictions and physical punishments.
It was a miracle they’d both turned out sane.
Jonathan slowly shook his head. “No, baby. Mommy’s not at work.”
Something in his voice must have scared her, because the little girl began to cry. “I want Mommy!”
Jonathan hugged her close. “So do I, sweetie. So do I.” The little family stood there on the steps, oblivious to their surroundings, totally caught up in their grief. Beth didn’t have the heart to interrupt them.
Dante didn’t have that problem. “Perhaps we should see ourselves out.” He folded his notebook and stood, taking Beth’s arm and guiding her to the door. He placed his card on the table and grabbed Beth’s coat. “I’ll contact you as soon as I know anything. If you think of anything, or anything seems out of place, please feel free to call me.”
Jonathan lifted his head from his daughter’s long enough to nod acknowledgement. “Thank you. Both of you.”
Beth’s last glimpse was of the two of them huddled together on the stairs, crying quietly together just before Dante closed the door. She pulled her coat on and followed him to where they’d both parked their cars.
He stared at her from over the roof of his car. “I don’t want you on this case.”
Oh, they were not going down this road. Not again. “Really? I’d never have known.”
“What do I have to do to get you to turn this case away?” His face was totally readable for once, the calculation marking it raising her hackles.
She shook her head. “Sorry, can’t do it. Professional integrity, and all that. Besides, I already accepted the retainer.”
Dante came around his car and stalked toward her. She was startled when he grabbed hold of her upper arms, shaking her lightly. “Listen to me, Rand. Get off the case. Don’t make me say it again.”
She glared up at him, ready to take him on if she had to. “Take your hands off me.”
He released her immediately and took a step back, his expression startled.
“You
ever
lay your hands on me again and I will break your fingers, you got that?” No way was she going to let the sexy cop manhandle her. No one touched her without her permission.
He stared down at her, his expression hurt. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”
She blew out a breath and adjusted her glasses.
“Damn it, Elizabeth. You
know
I wouldn’t hurt you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do I?”
His expression completely closed off, and for just a second Beth regretted what she’d said. “Get off the case, Rand.”
“Fuck off, Zucco.”
He snarled as he got into his car, slamming the door shut, taking off in a squeal of ice and bad temper.
Beth took a deep breath and walked next door to the neighbor’s house. She had work to do, and to hell with a certain cop who didn’t want her to do it.
Chapter Three
Jesus Christ. She’d thought he would harm her. He was actually hurt that Elizabeth Rand thought he would lay a hand on her in anger.
He winced.
Damn it. He
had
pretty much done just that. He should have told her what he was, then she would have known he’d never have truly hurt her. He could tell her what he’d seen at the crime scene, the hazy green miasma of a Shem more than apparent to someone like him. Maybe then she would have listened to him. Now, she’d probably hunt the fucker just to give Dante the proverbial finger.
She wasn’t equipped to go after a Shem. The thought of an Azar feeding on her soft flesh, or that Angelus he’d been hunting causing her pain while draining her life force made him growl. She shouldn’t be chasing after monsters, she should be protected from them. And it was his job to see to it that nothing harmed a hair on her stubborn, pain in the ass head. Telling her exactly what he was, bringing her further into their world, would only put her in more danger than she already was.
She’d killed one Shem. If she came to their attention, if they found out she, a human, had managed to take one of them out, she’d be hunted like no other.
He blinked in shock as flames wrapped around his hands, scorching the steering wheel.
He hadn’t lost control of his powers since he’d been a kid and set fire to his room because his brother wouldn’t share his Legos. Gio had refused to speak to him for a week after that. Thank fuck his brother had come into his powers before Dante. Gio was a Legionnaire, born with inhuman strength and endurance. He’d gotten them both out of the burning room safely and even managed to get the fire extinguisher, putting out the small blaze even as he yelled for their mother.
Gio still hadn’t forgiven him for melting his Teddy Ruxpin. Dante had hated that bear. It was always staring at him—those eerie bear eyes big and brown and full of hidden rage. Dante shivered. He still had the occasional nightmare that Teddy would come to exact his revenge for his fiery death. It didn’t help that his brother would put Ozzy Osborne tapes in it when Dante was trying to sleep.
Creepy-ass bear.
Shit. Dante missed Gio like crazy. Gio and Sasha—the third member of Gio’s cell—were out looking for Rafe, their missing member. They’d been hunting for months, searching for any sign of Rafe, but they’d had no luck in finding him.
Dante just prayed that they found him soon.
Dante was afraid that when they finally got Rafe back, the gentle healer they all knew and loved would be gone. If he was in Shem hands, they would torture him, attempt to turn him. It was possible, if they hurt him enough, if they brainwashed him through enough pain, that Rafe would turn aside from everything he loved and feed from a mortal. He would turn into one of them, forever lost to the Nephilim and the family Gabriel had built. If that failed, they would kill him. If Rafe hadn’t turned but was still alive...
Dante didn’t even want to think about what
that
meant.
Pulling up in front of Gabriel Viator’s home, he wasn’t surprised to find Damien’s car was already there. He stomped into the house, irritated by Elizabeth, Rafe’s continued absence and god damn Shem.
“And a cheery good morning to you too.” Seth grinned. It was obvious the Angelus hadn’t been there for long. His shirt, which he had to take off in order to fly, was on, and he was carrying a half-filled mug of coffee. The bright red cheeks he usually sported from flying in the winter chill were present, a sign he’d only just arrived.
Damien grunted out a greeting, his attention focused on his laptop.
Seth pointed toward the kitchen. “Donuts are that way, my brother.”
Dante flipped him off.
Then he headed for the kitchen. What could he say? Gabriel always made sure there were some filled with that apple cinnamon stuff Dante loved so much. He ignored Seth’s laughter as he came back into the room with a cup of coffee and his second donut. “Where’s Gabriel?” No one ever dreamed of shortening Gabriel’s name to Gabe. No one. There was something about the man that didn’t invite the intimacy of a shortened name.
Though if anyone had the balls to do it, it would probably be Seth.
“He’ll be here in a moment.” Seth’s expression turned serious, the same expression he had when on a hunt. “I think the Hidden Springs leader has finally contacted him. Eli might finally be available to help look for Rafael.”
Damien grunted again. He had that look on his face that said he was chasing something important.
“Good. With Gio and Sasha looking for Rafe physically, and Eli searching for him spiritually, we have a chance of getting him back alive.” Seth’s brother Eli was an Oracle, one of the angel-born who could see the future. He belonged to the Hidden Springs cell, Seth’s home-cell. If anyone could tell them whether or not Rafe was still alive it was Eli.
Seth whistled. “Sasha’s going to mutilate whoever has been holding Rafe.”
Both men shuddered. Sasha was almost as scary as Dante’s mother, and he was fiercely protective of his teammates. He considered Rafe and Gio family.
Hell. Dante’s mother had been the one to train him. She’d insisted on it when she realized Giovanni was planning on pairing with Sasha and Rafe.
“Good afternoon, Dante.” Gabriel Viator entered the room, his golden hair gleaming in the bright light streaming through his windows. His unusual violet eyes had darkened to a deep purple—a sure sign he was unhappy. The archangel settled in his usual spot in front of the fireplace, and stared at the three men before him until even Damien looked up from his computer, concerned. “Eli is coming.”
Seth swore under his breath. “Then Rafe is in worse trouble than even we thought.”
“At least we know he’s alive.” Damien nodded toward Gabriel.
Gabriel’s smile was grim. “I know he is alive, as I know with all of my Nephilim. But I cannot tell you where he is, or what condition he is in.” And it was obviously just as frustrating for Gabriel as it was for the rest of them.
“You’re doing everything you can, Gabriel. If you could have found him, he would be home by now.” Trust Seth to be the one to comfort an angel.
From the expression on Gabriel’s face, the effort was appreciated. “He would be.”
Damien grimaced. “Damn it. I was praying the son of a bitch was sitting on a beach somewhere, sipping mai tai’s and laughing his ass off at all of us while getting laid.”
“I’m afraid not.” Gabriel sighed wearily. “And until he returns, both Sasha and Gio are unavailable for patrol.”
“Meaning we need to step up our game.” Dante shot Seth a sympathetic look. The man’s wife was due to pop out a baby soon, and his life would change dramatically.
“Abby understands.” Seth smiled softly.
Of course Abby did, but that was beside the point. “If you need some time, we could work with Eli.” Someone would have to partner with him, and Dante was willing to look after him. Hell, it was better than pairing him with Piotr. Only Micah was willing to work with him, the Cambion making everyone else far too nervous. The cold son of a bitch would turn on them someday, Dante just knew it.
“We’ll see.” But from his expression Seth wasn’t planning on going anywhere.
“Dante.” He turned to find Gabriel’s penetrating gaze focused on him. “Tell me about the latest killing. It was an Azar?”
Dante paled. “You don’t think—”
Gabriel shook his head immediately. “No, I don’t. Rafe hasn’t turned.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am, Dante. If Rafe was lost to us, I would know.”
He was reassured by the serene certainty in the archangel’s voice. “Thank you, Gabriel.”
“The Azar, Dante.”
He filled Gabriel in on what Elizabeth had seen, the bloody wound in the victim’s chest, the green miasma around the kill. “I think it was an interrupted Azar attack. The shape of the wound and the way the body was mutilated makes me think he was planning on eating her heart.” Dante shivered. Blech.
“And this human, this Elizabeth Rand. What of her?”
“I can answer that.” Seth came out of the kitchen, having gone to refill his mug. “Beth knows what I am, what the Shem are. She’s the one who killed that Chameleon, remember?”
Gabriel focused once more on Dante. “Good. Work with her. Keep her safe. It’s possible the death of the Chameleon has put her on their radar. I won’t lose someone who protected one of our own.”
“Shit. You think he attacked the victim outside Elizabeth’s place of work because he wanted her to find the body.” He cursed under his breath. Humans didn’t kill Shem. It was always the other way around. Such a thing could fascinate the Shem, cause them to try and find out how she’d managed to take one of them. It was the very thing he’d been terrified of all along.
“And as I doubt the good P.I. will simply sit back and allow you to protect her...” Gabriel’s voice trailed off.
Merda.
Gabriel was right. Elizabeth would rush in where angels feared to tread. That urge to protect her solidified into something more, something deeply tied to the attraction he’d tried to deny for months. The Shem would not touch a hair on her head. Not on Dante’s watch. “I’ll take care of her.”
In more ways than one.
* * *
Beth was going to wind up in jail for murder.
“...and so I said, Marge, I said, if he really, really loved you, don’t you think he’d call or something?” The blonde flipped her hair in the classic bimbo move. “And she said...”
Candace “Call me Candy” Grahame was a petite woman with a greedy, sparkling blue gaze that devoured anything that looked like office gossip. She ate it up with a hunger Beth reserved for Sam’s homemade peanut butter brownies. Unlike Beth’s adoration of chocolate peanut-butter goodness, Candy was willing to share with anyone who stopped in front of her long enough for her to open her mouth.
Candy was also the victim’s secretary. If anyone knew what was going on in Mrs. Blake’s office, it should have been her. Which explained why Beth’s feet were currently nailed to the floor, listening to the inane chatter of the Queen of Candyland.
Why she was at the receptionist’s desk instead of in the back room, Beth didn’t know. She just wished the blabbermouth would shut up for two seconds so Beth could ask a god damn question.
“...and he was holding her purse, and it was
so cute
. So I told her...”
Beth was ready to drown Candy in her diet iced tea.
“...and I really think she needs to lay off the Botox...”
She wouldn’t be surprised if Candy was exactly the kind of woman Dante favored—pretty and brainless. She tried valiantly to hide a wince as Candy giggled again.
The offices of Todd Blessing’s political campaign were set up much as she’d expected. A few beige cubicles, a couple of doors leading to the back offices, and the reception desk where, lucky her, Candy sat, ready to spew anything and everything that entered her empty, useless head.
Shoot me now.
“...who does she think she is, Lady Gaga? Nobody wears that these days...”
All Candy needed was the snapping gum and the finger twirling in her hair, and the brainless bimbo image would be complete.
A tingling sense of awareness went through her, one that she felt only in the presence of a certain aggravating police officer. The warmth that swept through her was odd, considering the cold air that rushed through the open doorway. Shivering, she turned her head slowly and saw Dante enter the office, pulling off his thick gloves and looking around with a grim expression. She tried to ignore him and turned her attention back to what Candy was blabbing.
“...and so when I saw Jennifer against the window blind with
another man
, I was like, holy shit, little miss perfect is—”
“Whoa, back up. What was that about Mrs. Blake?” Suddenly, the frivolous Candy had her full attention.
Unfortunately, she no longer had Candy’s. The receptionist sat straight up in her chair, her gaze becoming wide and hungry. It looked like Candy had seen something she wanted to lick like a lollipop. “Well.” The blonde wiggled in her seat. “Hello there, sir. What can I do for you today?” Candy’s eyes gleamed as they ran over Dante’s form.
Dante held up his badge. “Detective Dante Zucco, New Castle P.D. I have a few questions to ask about Jennifer Blake’s murder.” Dante took a seat next to Beth and proceeded to charm the socks off Ms. Candy Grahame.
“Candace Grahame, Detective Dante.” The suddenly breathless quality of Candy’s voice had Beth rolling her eyes in disgust. “And I’m willing to tell you anything you want to know.”
That was it. Beth was gonna hurl from too much Candy.
Dante flashed a smile at the already smitten Candy. “Ms. Grahame—”
“Please, call me Candy.” Candy batted her baby blues at Dante.
“Candy, then. Candy, can you remember anything unusual happening around the office right around the time that Mrs. Blake was murdered?” Dante opened the ever-present notebook and looked intrigued as Candy broke into the same gossip Beth had been subjected to for the last half hour.
Dante, however, seemed determined to hear it all. He nodded in all the right places, shook his head in disbelief at some of the goings-on of her coworkers, and managed a sympathetic smile when Candy told of how she’d been all but ignored by the hunk of the office, Robert Kensington, in favor of plain-Jane Louise.
Beth surreptitiously checked her notes. Robert Kensington worked as the PR manager for the campaign. He was thirty-two years old, unmarried and had no children. According to Candy, he dated anything that would say yes, but Beth was inclined to take that with a grain of salt.
Beth sat silently and watched the play by play as Dante questioned Candy. She seethed, trying desperately to understand why Candy’s flirting bothered her so much, or why Dante’s polite response bothered her more. She felt much better when she pictured grabbing Candy by her blond curls and repeatedly beating her face into the desk. It might shut her up for two seconds.
Might.
“...and so when I saw little miss perfect with another man, I wondered if her husband knew about it or not.” Candy flashed a brilliant smile at Dante.