Kiss the Witch Goodbye, Page 2

  “Maybe she’ll be more amenable to my brand of charm,” Nick said with a rakish tilt of the head, drawing a smile from Natalie.

  “That’s what I was hoping to hear. I’m looking for any past acquaintances, anything that leads to a history of violent behavior.”

  “Do we have a reason to suspect a violent past? Did anyone hint as much down in L.A.? Does he have a sheet?”

  “No, he had a couple of drug possession charges in his sealed juvie file, but nothing since he became an adult.”

  “That’s all you’ve got?” Gibson didn’t bother to hide the skepticism in his voice. There was no way he’d be able to finagle any time away from his workload with the case she’d laid out before him. “I’ll do my best, but without an open investigation I’m afraid you’ve only got me on my off hours.”

  “I’ll take what I can get,” she smiled, holding his gaze long enough for the silence in the room to grow noticeable and Nick cleared his throat.

  “Where are you staying?”

  “I’m over at the Comfort Suites by the airport.”

  “Oh, way out there?” He made a face. “You’ll never get a good night’s sleep by the airport.”

  “Your tax dollars at work. I go where I’m sent.” Standing, she gathered the papers together, slipping them into the file folder. “Listen, I’ll have my people send over a copy of the file and I’ll be in touch soon. I understand you have your own caseload to work, but any extra time you can spare…”

  “Don’t worry, Special Agent, I remember the drill. I scratch your back, you scratch mine.”

  “I seem to recall you were especially good at that scratching,” she said, her eyes traveling over him in an almost palpable stroke. “I’ll be in touch, Nick. It’s good to see you again.”

  “Take care, Nat,” he replied, escorting her down to the elevator. Brady appeared at his side almost the instant the doors slid shut.

  “Anything we should know about?” he asked, cop instincts already shifting into overdrive.

  “Just an old friend from L.A. with an interesting perp she’s tailing. I probably shouldn’t say more, we don’t have an official investigation going. But do me a favor. Get Gail down at the coroner’s office to flag me with any deaths involving a razor blade, even if it’s ruled a suicide.”

  Brady stood staring at the closed elevator doors as Nick walked away. “You sure there’s nothing we should know about?”

  Chapter Two

  The inside job on the big warehouse robbery all sewn up by Park and Brady, Sergeant Gibson had plenty of time to get home for Italian night with Veronica and Annaliese. The modest three bedroom house in Tigard already smelled of garlic and spices when he stepped through the door, thanks to the sauce bubbling away in the crock pot. Nick took a few moments to put That’s Amore into the CD player before he went up to change out of his work clothes.

  Emerging after a quick wash of the face, he poked his head into the kitchen to find his daughter slathering a loaf of bread with butter. Nick casually leaned against the counter, waiting for her to look in his direction like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be wearing a silly fake moustache and a chef’s hat with his jeans and t-shirt, his contribution to Italian night.

  Veronica simply rolled her eyes in true teenaged fashion and went back to chopping garlic. “It was funny when I was a little girl, you know. Not so much now.”

  “You’ll always be my little girl.” Nick dropped a noisy kiss to her forehead as he slipped by to give the sauce a stir. Though with each passing day, Veronica looked less like the girl he remembered buying plastic ponies for and more adult than he liked. No longer a bright red, her hair was dyed nearly black, the tips bleached to show a different hue each week (currently an electric blue). Her eyes, the same shade of brown as his own, were nearly hidden under a thick fringe of bangs.

  It seemed like the older she grew, the shorter her skirts got. In fact, the pink skirt she had on now probably would’ve fit an eight year old better. Still, her legs were covered with black lacy tights so she didn’t show too much. At seventeen, Veronica tested her boundaries on a daily basis, but nothing to get his blood pressure up. All things considered, he was glad hemlines were one of the few things they argued over.

  “Is Annaliese still coming over tonight?” she asked.

  “Yep, unless you’ve heard anything differently? Why, have you?” For some reason, a ribbon of guilt sliced its way through his midsection when he thought of his visit with Natalie that morning, even though he hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

  “Nope, just making sure before I make this bread vampire proof.”

  The coil of worry in his stomach eased at her nonchalant reply. “Go ahead, Annaliese likes garlic as much as we do.”

  “If you say so. I was only trying to save your private adult time together after you go watch TV upstairs.” She made exaggerated air quotes with her fingers.

  “Your kind foresight is appreciated, but entirely unnecessary,” he said loftily, reaching high into the tall cupboard to retrieve the basket set aside for their Italian traditions. While Veronica fussed around with the bread, he set the table with a red checkered tablecloth and brightly colored plates purported to come from Tuscany, according to the snooty sales guy at Williams Sonoma. As usual, Nick went the extra mile to make Italian night special with everything from Italian dressing to sparkling Limonata and a tiramisu in the fridge. There was even a candle stuck in a chianti bottle for that extra ambiance.

  At the knock on the door, Nick set Deano back to the beginning of the CD and straightened his moustache before opening the door for Annaliese. Her nod to Italian night found her wearing an open necked, white cotton blouse, colorfully embroidered at the collar with flowers and a long peasant skirt, one edge tucked up into her waist band to reveal a bright green petticoat beneath. With long hair floating free she looked more gypsy than Italian peasant, but Nick wasn’t about to complain. It wasn’t like his own Chef Boyardee costume was exactly authentic.

  Her mossy green eyes sparkled as soon as she saw him in his silly moustache and hat, nose crinkling above a wide smile. “That’s quite a soup catcher you’ve got there.”

  “Good thing we’re not having soup,” Nick grinned, leaning in to kiss her, and she giggled and pulled away, clutching the wooden salad bowl between them like a shield.

  “Hey, that thing tickles. Has it had its shots yet, or are we going to have to put it down after dinner?”

  Nick pretended to be offended, giving the fake hair on his upper lip a stroke. “I’ll have you know this style of mustache is considered a sign of refinement.”

  “I see you started in on the wine without me, did you? I hope you saved me some.” Breezing past him, Annaliese swept into the kitchen to greet Veronica, who loved her skirt, asking if she could borrow it sometime. Nick stood back to watch them chat easily together, Anna’s graceful movements catching his eye. Pretty in an understated, natural way, he never would’ve guessed she ran a metaphysical gift shop to look at her. She was the exact opposite of what you’d think a witch should look like, though Nick had learned the hard way that things weren’t always as they appeared.

  The three of them fell into a natural rhythm, Annaliese mixing up the Italian dressing while Nick finished the garlic bread and Veronica watched over the pasta. They moved through the kitchen with practiced care, and the odd bump of elbows was nothing a giggle or a kiss couldn’t fix.

  Distracted by the peek of Annaliese’s sun kissed shoulders when her peasant top slipped, Nick didn’t even realize something was up with his meal until he sat at the table. “What’s this?”

  “Spaghetti squash,” Veronica replied, all of a sudden crazy interested in folding her napkin across her lap just right.

  “Squash?” Nick poked at it with his fork. “Eewh. Where’s the pasta?”

  “This is better for you, Dad. Eat it.”

  She still wouldn’t look at him and Nick sent a look of betrayal in Annali
ese’s direction. “Is this your influence?”

  “Try it before you knock it, you big baby,” she laughed, dusting her plate with shredded parmesan.

  “Yeah, but my mouth was all set for spaghetti.”

  “This will taste just as good. The flavor’s all in the sauce, which you made yourself.” Anna reached over and loaded up his fork with a big bite, like one would do for a five year old.

  Nick plucked the fork out of her fingers, not quite ready to be fed. It did smell good, but something about the idea of squash didn’t sit right with him. He took a tentative bite from the edge of the fork, chewing carefully.

  “It’s good, right?” Veronica asked, watching him like a hawk.

  It wasn’t bad, but something in him had trouble acknowledging it out loud. “It’s not pasta,” he grumbled and Anna laughed, digging into her own food.

  “You don’t have to eat pasta every time.”

  “Yeah, but it’s Italian night,” he protested. Did they not get that? Annaliese he expected it from, but usually Veronica was his partner in carbohydrate crime. Instead she sat there, happily munching away on veggie spaghetti. Vegetables. It was like he didn’t know his own daughter anymore.

  “Next time we’ll do pasta,” Anna promised. “But it won’t kill you to lay off the carbs.” She poked him in the middle, prompting a pucker of concern to his brow. Was she calling him puffy? Was he getting puffy? Anna seemed to read his mind, suppressing a smile. “You can relax, you’re fine. We’re looking out for you is all. You can’t fault us for that.”

  “Right, think of all the calories you saved by not doubling up on the starches,” Veronica chimed in.

  “Are you kidding? This means I get twice as much garlic bread.” Nick punctuated his response with an enormous bite of bread, munching happily while they traded long, suffering sighs.

  Despite his fuss over the lack of pasta, dinner was a success with much laughter, even after he took off the silly mustache, and more than one balled-up napkin tossed across the table in mock outrage. Nick had to admit, the pretty witch had inserted herself almost seamlessly into his life. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to wrap an arm around her waist and lead her to the family room to watch the news over coffee and tiramisu.

  The dishes left to soak, Veronica parked at the table to work on an art project while Nick and Anna adjourned to the couch. At least until the KATU Newscast did a piece on the chaos surrounding the Hotel Verona over the arrival of Forsaken, due to perform at the Crystal Ballroom. That news had her out of her chair like a rocket, blocking their view as she absorbed every iota of data concerning the band.

  “Hey, you make a better door than a window,” Nick called out, waving her aside to get a look at the footage of the duo arriving at the luxury hotel. The sister stopped and posed for all the cameras, eating the attention up, but Jax May grabbed her by the elbow, all but dragging her inside, his lip curled in a perpetual scowl. What he wouldn’t do to get in to see them himself… but security looked pretty tight and without an official reason, his badge wouldn’t get him very far.

  “Sorry, but they’re really here! Could you die?” Veronica gave an excited hop. “You said Kristen and I could go to a concert on my own this year, right? If I saved my money and kept my grades up and I totally have.” Turning away from the screen, her brows pinched together with worry at seeing the expression on Nick’s face. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”

  “I don’t know,” Nick hedged, not wanting to crush her joy by revealing that her idol was a suspect in a multiple homicide. “Those things run awful late…”

  “Please!” Veronica begged. “This is so important to me. Think of it like… like if Perry Como came to town.”

  “Perry… how old do you think I am?” Nick scowled, swatting at her with the TV Guide but she easily dodged his reach.

  “Just kidding,” she teased, the grin fading in favor of puppy dog eyes as she clasped her hands under her chin.

  “Oh, come on, Nick,” Annaliese said, nudging him with her elbow. “I think it’ll be fine. She’s not a little girl anymore.”

  “That’s what worries me,” he muttered, thinking about the dead girls, all in their early twenties, but Annaliese wasn’t deterred.

  “It’s not like you’re sending her off to a show in New York City, this is right over on Burnside. And besides, these guys are pretty cool as bands go.” She dropped a wink at Veronica so quickly that Nick wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it or not.

  “See, even Annaliese thinks they’re awesome!” Veronica took on that tone that he was particularly susceptible to and he seized upon any distraction to be had, turning to Anna.

  “You don’t strike me as a fan of Forsaken.”

  “Their music is kind of dark for me, but I know them.”

  “Wait, you mean like know them, know them?” He had to have misunderstood her, it was too good to be true.

  “Yes, we grew up together.”

  “Holy shit! Sorry…” Veronica hastily amended before Nick had a chance to say anything about the language. “But you really and truly grew up with Jax and Ruby May? Like they actually know who you are and everything?”

  Annaliese let out a low chuckle. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen them, but yes, we knew each other pretty well. In fact, I might be able to introduce you to them, depending on how tight their security is.”

  “Can you?” It came out as little more than a squeak, and Nick didn’t know if he should make Veronica sit down and take deep breaths or something.

  “Sure, it’s worth a try at any rate. We were good friends back in the day.”

  “How good?” Nick frowned, a picture beginning to form in the back of his mind. One he didn’t like the looks of one bit.

  “Good,” she answered simply, firmly cementing what he started to suspect.

  “Shut the front door… seriously?” Veronica gaped. “You and Jax May? Oh my God, did you date him?”

  “I did,” Anna admitted with an uncharacteristically gossipy smile. “He was my first real boyfriend, actually. Remind me sometime and I’ll show you pictures of us at my junior prom.”

  The girls chattered away about it while Nick listened with a sinking feeling. He never would’ve taken Annaliese as the groupie type, but the more he heard, the more he became convinced it was nothing more than puppy love. Besides, what did he have to be jealous for? Things were going well between them, really well. So why then did the gleam in her eye whenever she said Jax’s name bother him so much?

  “Could we go now?” Veronica demanded suddenly, drawing him out of his reverie.

  “I don’t know, it’s getting kind of late.”

  “Not for rock stars. It’s barely eight o’clock! Please, I promise I’ll be your total lackey for a week.”

  “You’re already my lackey.”

  “Yes, but I’ll actually do stuff I’m supposed to without you having to yell or remind me or anything.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he snorted, and Veronica fell to her knees, hands clasped together dramatically.

  “Please, Daddy. Please, please, please…”

  Nick let out a long sigh, trading looks with an amused Annaliese. “Don’t ask me, ask Anna, they’re her friends.” Nearly bowled over by the rush of thanks, Nick wondered if he was getting soft in his old age. Letting his daughter within fifty feet of a suspected felon was grounds for mushy brains for sure, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet Jax May up close and personal. Natalie was going to turn green with envy.

  Chapter Three

  “Twenty-eight dollars for valet parking?” Nick clutched the ticket in his fist, tempted to go back and circle the city block a few times instead of paying what amounted to highway robbery in his book. Only then he might miss the first sighting of Jax May and that was worth the price of admission. Maybe he could even get Natalie to expense it?

  “I’ll pay you back if it bothers you that much,” Annaliese murmu
red, her tone making it clear she was tired of hearing him rant about the subject.

  “No, it’s fine,” he sighed, tucking the stub away. “It’s the principle of the thing that gets me is all.”

  “I still wish you would’ve let me change before we left,” Veronica grumbled as they stepped into the grand elevator, patting at her hair self consciously.

  “You’re the one who wanted to go tonight,” Nick pointed out. There was no way he would’ve wanted to wait around for another hour and a half while she fussed over her appearance.

  “I look like a stupid teenager.”

  “You are a…” Nick pressed his lips together before he dug himself a hole he couldn’t climb out of. “You look like a lovely teenager, which is exactly what you are,” he amended, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder.

  “Annaliese?” Veronica turned to her as if she couldn’t trust Nick’s opinion.

  “I think you look great,” she agreed. “I’ll bet your pics with him on Facebook will be the envy of everyone you know.”

  “If we can get in to see him.”

  “I feel pretty confident we’ll get in,” Annaliese replied with a smug smile.

  Nick didn’t know whether to be happy or sad when the pair of bouncers in the hallway barred them from getting closer than fifteen feet to the suite doors. There were three or four fans camped out in the hallway on the floor, hoping for a glimpse of the duo coming or going. Annaliese strode right past them, coming face to face with the bulge of muscle at her eye height.

  “I’m here to see Jackson,” she said briskly, as if she had every right to be there.

  “Nobody gets in to see Mr. May,” the hulk of a man said in a surprisingly high voice.

  “He’ll want to see me, we’re old friends.”

  “That’s what they all say.” A roll of the eyes was given but Annaliese maintained her composure.

  “Do I look like a groupie to you?”