Psychic Spirits: Psychic Mystery

Romance (Woodward Hill Mystery

Romance Book 2) Aj Nuest
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Psychic Spirits

A Woodward Hill Mystery Romance—Book 2

by

AJ Nuest & Arial Burnz

PUBLISHED BY:

Mystical Press, LLC

Psychic Spirits: A Woodward Hill Mystery Romance—Book 2

Copyright © 2021 by AJ Nuest & G.C. Henderson

Cover Design by Miblart

eBook Edition License Notes

This publication is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and

all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws, and all
rights are reserved, including resale rights: you are not allowed to
give or sell this e-book to anyone else. This e-book is licensed for
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Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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the written permission of the author, except for small excerpts for
review or media purposes.

This e-book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,

living or dead, places, events or locales, is purely coincidental. The
characters are productions of the author's imagination and used
fictitiously.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

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About the Authors

Dedication

For Papa Jack

Chapter One

Adrenaline rushed through his veins like a sweet drug. A predator

awaiting his prey. Hunkering down in the shadows behind a crate, he
fisted the handle of his knife.

The tactical grip molded to his palm like a firm handshake from an
old friend. He squeezed his fingers and his black nitrile gloves
squeaked above the occasional roar of a vehicle passing by the alley.
Stupid piece of shit. A caustic huff scored his throat. The guy's low IQ
and overly thick skull was every bit as bad as all the others.

Reacting on instinct. Ignoring the consequences. And like any dumb

grunt who crossed his path, the asshole was an animal who needed
to be put down.

The cable to the security camera had already been cut. Right after
the lights had gone off inside the Quicksilver Bar and Grill. It had
taken nothing more than the snip from a pair of wire cutters to
disable the overhead floodlight.

To be on the safe side, he'd removed the bulb and carefully crunched
it under the heel of his boot.

He'd left the broken pieces scattered on the asphalt, and then
crammed his shoulders into his pre-planned hiding spot beside the
large blue plastic barrels.

Any moment now, the stupid bartender would follow his usual routine
and exit the back door of the building. He'd lock up and walk the
trash to the dumpster, before heading toward his car.

The idiot wouldn't have the slightest clue he'd been caught in
someone's sights. And for that ignorance alone, he'd more than
earned every moment of what was coming.

A loud clang vibrated the metal door as it swung wide and slammed
the exterior brick wall. The bartender emerged and dropped two full
garbage bags near the corner, using them to prop the door open.
Glass ground into the blacktop under his shoes, and he glanced up at
the broken floodlight.

"Goddammit." Shaking his head, he disappeared inside and returned

with two more tied trash bags.
Shit, the dude was beyond a useless excuse for a human being. As if
the lightbulb had somehow unscrewed itself before dropping to the
ground.

Muscles coiled, poised and ready to strike, he locked a breath in his

lungs. Savoring the burn, he firmed his grip on the knife. Patience
was always the key.

Bottles clanked as a pair of the four bags were carried to the

dumpster. The bartender tossed them inside, pushed the remaining
ones from the door, set the lock and pocketed his keys. An oomph
left his chest as he grabbed the last two and retraced his steps to the
dumpster.

A quick check of the alley to make sure they were alone, and any
hiding was no longer necessary.

The crinkle of plastic and slam of the lid more than masked his
approach. Sneaking up fast

behind the bartender, he covered his mouth and dragged the edge of
his blade across the idiot's throat.

With his voice box severed, he wouldn't be able to make a sound or

scream. The dude's hands batted at his forearm, and he shoved the
tip of the knife into the carotid along the side of his neck.

The bartender strained. Thrashing. Eyes wide and blood gurgling as

he struggled to get a look over his shoulder. His glasses clattered to
the blacktop. He gasped for air like a beached fish and the narrow
goatee bobbed on his chin.

Pathetic. The waste of space couldn't even defend himself from an

easy and necessary kill. In exchange, his punishment would be
justifiably severe.

"You never should have touched her." Lowering the failing body to
the ground, he swung around and straddled the guy's waist. "Don't
even look at her!"

Aqueous gel exploded across his fingers as he rammed his knife into
the bartender's left eye. He jerked. Red tears drained past his temple
and, a second later, he went limp and laid still as a stone.

Dammit. He'd lost consciousness way too fast in order to be taught a

lesson. A feral growl echoed off the walls as the blade disappeared to
the hilt into the right eye.

"Don't look at her! Don't look at her!" Each phrase razed his throat,
aching and punctuated by the riddling plunge of his knife into the
body. Until sweat had his shirt stuck to his back and the gore made
the handle too slick.

Catching his breath, he sat on his heels and lifted his face to the sky,
reveling in the cool, late-night chill against his fevered skin.

Barrel aged whisky melted a single cube of ice as Detective Thane

Richmond set his glass beside his smartphone on the table. According
to the HillHop notification he'd just received, his dinner was
approaching around the corner.

It was a nice little app. He dipped a curt nod. Sorta like Grub Hub,
Instacart, Uber and an errand-running service all rolled into one.
Considering Woodward Hill's remote location, tucked against the
mountains around Lake Clavey, and an hour away from the nearest
town, having an app that exclusively served the small resort
community wasn't just smart, it was downright ingenious.

God knew, it had certainly come in handy in the last month since he'd
moved in.

A light knock rattled the door and he crossed the living room through
the valley of cardboard boxes and discarded bubble wrap. He twisted
the knob and a young girl in a dark-blue polo shirt grinned at him
through the screen door.

"'Sup, Detective Richmond?" She held open a navy canvas bag, the
white HillHop logo embroidered on the side a perfect match to the
one stitched across her shirt pocket. "I see you decided on Pao Wow
Dragon for tonight's entrée. Good call, since Mrs. Wan personally
handmakes their rice noodles."

"Sarah, you keeping that promise to stay out of trouble?" Thane

stepped over the threshold and, with a sly wink, lifted the white
plastic bag from inside. "Thanks."

"For crying out loud, it was one parking ticket." She rolled her sea-
green eyes. "I swear, a girl can't get away with anything in this ho-
dunk, speck of a town."

Spinning around, she crossed his wooden porch, down the steps to
her compact at the curb.

"Hey."

She paused climbing in with her hand on the roof and locked onto
him past the lawn.

"Check your tips when you get home. A little bird told me the ticket's
been covered."

Waving him off, she slid in behind the wheel, but at least he was able
to catch her relieved smile as she checked her cell phone through the
windshield.

Hell, it was the least he could do after hearing about how it had
taken a dent out her savings for college. Stepping inside, he secured
the deadbolt and returned to the dining room.

Brick lumbered in from the kitchen across the hardwood floor,

footsteps thumping so loud and heavy, she flouted the rule that cats
were born with an inherent ability to be silent. In an aerobatic feat
that defied gravity, she leapt to his chair, and then hoisted her bulk
onto the edge of the table.

Then again, even as a kitten, she'd had a dense build. Hence the
name Brick. And it had grown even more appropriate through the
years once she'd maxed out at twenty-five pounds.

"Boy, you can really move whenever the subject turns to food." He
set down the bag and hunted through the opened boxes by the wall
for a small plate and some silverware. The whole time, the mottled
calico paced an anxious circle, meowing and complaining he wasn't
moving fast enough.

He finally diced up a piece of chicken and placed the dish in front of

the cat. Nudging the chair aside with his foot, he dropped to the seat
and ate his dinner straight out of the plastic containers.

His smartphone chimed and he leaned to the side, tapping the screen
to check his texts.

How are you holding up?

Shit. Closing his eyes, he released a low groan. He should've

expected this was coming. But with the clock edging closer to ten
o'clock, he'd given in to wishful thinking he wouldn't hear from his ex
today.
He chased his fried rice with a mouthful of whisky before thumbing in
a response.

You don't need to check on me.

Three little dots bounced on the screen, every second that dragged
past accented by the dread building in his chest.

I assume that means you haven't yet reached the bottom of the
bottle.

Thane glanced at the whisky to find just under a third of the alcohol
remained. Dammit, why couldn't she leave it alone?

I'm fine.

He shoved another bite into his mouth and had barely chewed before
his ringtone pierced the quiet and Amanda's name lit up the screen.

A tired sigh lifted his shoulders, and he raked his hand through his
hair. Swiping the green button to answer the call, he activated the
speaker. "I already told you, I'm fine."

She exhaled with such force, the microphone buzzed. "Save it,
Thane. You're never fine on this day."

Well, what else did she expect? For him to move on and forget
everything that had happened?

"What do you want from me, Amanda? A cheery phone call and a
Breathalyzer test?"

"What do I want?" She sputtered a dry laugh. "How about some

reassurance you're not gonna go off and do something…"

But since they both knew where that comment was headed, there
was no need for her to finish.
A hard knot formed in this throat. His eyes stung and he lowered his
chin, cursing a blue streak under his breath. "Thanks for the
reminder."

She'd always had perfect timing whenever it came to inflicting the

most pain.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

He disconnected, and then sat there, stewing, appetite gone and

feeling like an ass. She'd just hit too close to the mark for him not to
react to her goading.

I'm sorry.

He hit send.

Whatever, Thane. I'm here if you need to talk.

Yeah, right. As if Amanda's shoulder was the one he would be

comfortable crying on. Though deep inside, he knew she was fighting
her own set of demons and was genuinely trying to help. Take care of
yourself. And thanks.

Tossing his fork onto the table, he secured the lid on the container
and poured another two fingers of whisky into his glass. He dumped
half down his throat and the food churned in his gut as the alcohol
dulled his senses.

The chair legs screeched as he fell back in the seat. Eyes closed, he
sipped at the rim and savored the burn disrupting the bitter taste of
failure on his tongue.

The whole purpose of moving to Woodward Hill had been to escape

the constant reminders. To leave the past behind. But the mistakes
stuck with him like oily grime he couldn't scrub off his skin.
Shaking his head, he sat up and glanced from one packed box to the
next. Mountains of memories crowded his dormered Victorian. Things
he still couldn't bring himself to face. Other than pulling out his
clothes and a few toiletries, he'd been more than happy to let
everything sit in the three-plus weeks since he'd moved in. Even
putting sheets on the bed and a few towels in the bathroom had
come off like an exhaustive chore.

In retrospect, maybe Amanda was right. Somehow, in some unknown

way, he needed to locate the strength that had evaded him for eight
long years and figure out a way to move on.

He placed his empty glass beside Brick's plate and pushed away from
the table. Grabbing the closest box off the stack, he peeled the tape
from the dusty flaps.

A pair of hazel eyes stared back at him. Freckled cheeks and a

dimpled grin. Dark curls peeking from under the red baseball helmet,
and a metal bat resting on the red uniform hanging off Zach's boney
shoulder.

Goddamn, that stung.

Thane's vision blurred with unshed tears, and he tucked the frame
under his arm. Snagging the neck with two fingers, he dragged the
bottom of the bottle across the table and carried the whiskey to the
couch.

He dropped to a cushion, but it didn't matter if he emptied what was

left down his throat. And it didn't matter if his gut started on fire, or
his eyes watered, or salty droplets fell from his chin.

His son was still gone. Leaving a gaping ache in Thane's soul he
couldn't fill and that never stopped hurting.

Propping the photograph on his thigh, he sucked a ragged breath.

"I'm so sorry, buddy. I swear to Christ, I'll never forgive myself for
letting you down."

His shoulders shook as he exhaled. His cheek tingled, and he swiped

at his tears, cool against his skin. Brick jumped to his lap, walked her
front paws up his chest and rubbed her face along the crook of his
neck.

"I know, I know. I miss him too." Setting the picture aside, Thane
sagged against the cushions and dragged his palm up and down the
cat's back.

And though her steady purr didn't drown out his sobs, at least the
alcohol gradually delivered him to the sweet release of oblivion.

Chapter Two

Rose gasped and bolted upright in bed.

No, dammit. Her throat was raw. Skin covered in sweat and clammy.

The door burst open and Summer rushed to the bed as Rose fought
to get her pulse under control.

"I'm here. I'm here." The squeeze of her sister's arms was more
comforting than Rose could begin to explain. "It's okay. It was a
dream, it was just another bad dream."

They were a touchstone that returned her to the here and now and
somehow made the horrors less potent.

A sob cracked from her chest. Summer rocked her side to side and
Rose rested her cheek on the top of her sister's shoulder.

God, there'd been so much blood. Such anger and frenzied violence.

And Randy's wide eyes.

Rose gritted her teeth. His glasses falling to the ground. Mouth gaped
in a silent scream. The spurt of warm blood as she'd dragged that
razor-sharp blade across his neck.

"This has got to stop." Summer gripped Rose's arms and eased her
back, the frown cramping her forehead severe. "It's the third night in
a row you've woken up screaming. I wish to God you'd talk to Dad."

And say what, exactly?

A shudder wracked Rose's spine and she leaned to the side, lifting a
glass of water off her nightstand. "I just… I thought I could handle it
on my own."

Bingo, her orange tabby, landed on the bed and, meowing, pawed at
Rose's free hand.

"I'm okay, buddy." She rubbed his head and scratched at his ears.
"Sorry for being so loud."

"I mean it." Pinching Rose's chin between her thumb and index
finger, Summer waited until Rose met her gaze. "You need to stop
dodging Dad once and for all, and tell him what's going on."

And in the grand scheme of things, maybe her sister was right. There
was no other argument Rose could offer. Regardless of how much
she dreaded the thought of what their dad would say.

She glanced at the clock and curled her lip in a sneer. 4:28 AM. "I
might as well get the day started. I've gotta be up in thirty minutes
and it's not like I can sleep, anyway."

"No." Summer sighed. "You should at least try. If nothing else, lay
here and meditate. Wynnie and I can open the store and I'm happy
to reschedule your appointments."

Nice thought, but…

"I can't." Rose scratched Bingo's chin with her acrylic nails before
scooting left across the sheets. "I've got a committee meeting at six,
remember?"

The scowl on Summer's face was overcast with a chance of rain.

"Then once you're done, I don't think you should bother coming in to
work."

"Why not?" Shrugging into her satin robe, Rose rounded the bed to
her dresser. "It's better than twiddling my thumbs in my room while
reliving the nightmare over and over."

" Or you could finally take a day off and see about getting some
rest." Bingo rolled to his back as Summer stood and crossed her arms
with a huff. "Your aura's been clouded since last week, Rose. All
muddy brown and gray."

God, having psychic siblings was a real pain in the butt sometimes.
"I'll go to bed early tonight.

In fact, I even promise to drink some of Wynnie's aura-cleansing tea

once I get to the shop."

"I swear, you're as stubborn as Dad." Marching toward Rose, Summer

planted a hard kiss on her cheek before storming through the door.

The second it closed, Rose camped her hip against the dresser and
shook out her trembling fingers. The handle of the knife was still
slippery in her palm. The fetid stench of rotting garbage still clung to
her skin and hair.

Padding to the nightstand, she picked up her smartphone, but there

was no response to her messages yet.

Hey, I'm starting to worry. Can you shoot me a text and just let me
know if you're doing okay?
She tapped send and then contemplated whether or not to just finally
give Randy a call.

Placing the phone to her chest, she chewed her thumbnail. The four
days since she'd last seen him seemed like an eternity. At The Three
Sisters this past Friday afternoon. When he'd come in for an energy
healing session after learning his girlfriend had been cheating on him
with another guy.

Poor Randy had spent two weeks trying to deal with the betrayal.
Standing behind the bar as his ex and her new hook-up groped each
other at the Quicksilver Bar and Grill. Until Rose had stopped in one
night on her way home from work and suggested he come in for a
session.

Fast forward through the weekend and, early Monday morning, she'd
woken up in an ice-cold sweat. She'd had the same damn dream that
haunted her both yesterday and this morning.

Sneaking up behind Randy. Slitting his throat and stabbing him

multiple times.

She'd just been so incredibly angry with him. More upset than she
could ever remember in her thirty-two years on this planet.

The only thing she didn't know was if all this was simply her tuning
into the residual energy from his bad break up. If his ex-girlfriend
was so mad he'd called it quits instead of giving her another chance,
she wanted to kill him for dumping her. God knew, the symbolism of
him taking out the trash wasn't lost on Rose. Perhaps there was
another side to the story. One that was so volatile, Randy had been
embarrassed to bring it up.

Could be his ex-girlfriend was abusive and had made his life a living
hell. Nothing would
surprise Rose anymore now that the girl had the nerve to flaunt the
same dude Randy had busted her with right in front of his face.

Her shoulders fell and Rose tossed her phone to the bed in favor of
her brush. What she needed was a nice hot shower to wash away the
negative vibes. And once she got through her meeting and was back
at the shop, she'd do some research and then maybe talk to her
sisters. Get their thoughts on her weaving a nice big dream catcher
to hang above her bed.

She hissed with a hard tug at her matted strands and headed for the
hall. At this point she was ready to try anything to get rid of the
horrible dreams.

Thane pushed through the glass door into the coffee shop and
inwardly groaned at the cacophony of voices.

Far as he knew, the local schools were still in session even though
summer was just around the corner. But, apparently, that hadn't
stopped this season's tourists from descending like a pack of wolves
onto the Woodward Hill scene.

Most of them seemed of retirement age and passed in front of him at

a snail's pace. Others were families with rowdy kids, celebrating a
sugar high from the baked goods.

Either way, he winced as the constant noise highlighted his pounding

hangover, as well as the crick in his neck from spending another night
lost in the bottle on his couch.
Less than an hour ago, he'd rolled off the cushions, dragging ass and
in desperate need of a brisk shower. Unfortunately, the icy spray
hadn't helped any more than the one Advil he'd located and managed
to choke down. Putting off shaving, he'd headed straight for the cure
in the form of a large coffee with a double shot of espresso. And such
had been his singular mission since he'd driven to this part of town.

He turned toward the sign hanging over the display case and his
eyebrows lifted at the curvy brunette leaning over the counter. A
long, black skirt hugged her shapely hips, and tiny silver bells hung
from the delicate chains circling her ankles.

"So, she crosses her arms and says to the guy, 'Okay, then, show me
your dick.'"

The employees behind the register burst out laughing and Thane
wrenched to attention, his jaw tight. That sultry voice was easily
familiar. She was the same drop-dead-gorgeous woman he'd seen
during his first scouting trip to Woodward Hill.

"Oh, my God, please tell me you're not serious." The blonde barista
covered her mouth, the words muffled by her fingers. "He was
getting a penis piercing?"

Her male co-worker hissed and cringed. "He didn't actually do it, did
he? Right there, in front of everyone, at the booth?"

"As if." The beauty otherwise known as Rose Woodward held up her
hands in surrender. "I didn't stick around long enough to find out."

A snort scuffed his throat, and Thane couldn't help but smirk along
with a few of the other customers. Of those behind him, pretty much
all of them were heavily tattooed. Some wore piercings in their lips or
eyebrows or had gauges in their ears.

Huh. He faced forward with a frown, scratching the scruff on his

neck. Never, in a million years, would he have pegged this place for a
biker crowd.

The brunette turned on her heels, wearing a smile, spotted him and
sharply inhaled.

Holy shit. He slumped and dragged his hand down his rough cheeks.
Exactly like the first time he'd seen her, she sucker-punched him
square in the gut.

Those cat-like green eyes. Rimmed with lashes so thick and dark he
had to wonder if they were real. Mounds of chestnut hair he wanted
to fist and gather off her sun-kissed shoulders.

Blinking in surprise, she brought her hand to her chest and stared at
the empty space down near his hip.

"Oh, no. I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there." Bending forward at the
waist, she pressed a rhinestone-studded nail to the fleshy curve of
her bottom lip. "That was not a story little ears should be hearing."

Wait… Who was she talking to? Shifting his weight, he glanced at the
floor and filled his lungs to ask what she was doing. But before he
could speak, she spun back to the counter.

"And don't forget to add my white chocolate mocha to the order."

"Whipped cream and white chocolate shavings on top." The blonde

dipped a nod and grabbed a cup from the stack. "I'll have it ready in
just a second."

Rose smiled and sauntered across the room to sit at a table against
the wall, every hypnotic step accented by the light jingling at her
ankles. Shaking her head, she palmed her forehead as if working
through her embarrassment. Though what she'd meant by little ears,
Thane still didn't have the first clue.

"What can I get for you, sir?"

He ordered and handed the blonde a few bills, surrendering his
name. Strolling over to the side of the pick-up counter, he rested his
elbow on the high tabletop.

The line shuffled forward and he brought out his phone, using it as
cover to peek in her direction.

Rose. Nice name, but it paled in comparison to the woman he kept

centered in his sights.

She was a stunner. Every bit as riveting as three months ago when
he'd noticed her at Chief Dixon's retirement party.

He'd been standing beside Leo at the edge of the dancefloor,

debating the benefits of living in a small town. The second she'd
caught his eye, he'd known then and there. She was the kind of
woman any straight guy who got to breathe her same air would have
to be brain dead to forget.

Had he been a different man…a better man…the man who'd

graduated from the academy and didn't use alcohol to dull how he
was broken…she was exactly the type he would've gone out of his
way to meet.

But life had taught him how cruel people could be and how dark
things could actually get.

An asshole like him didn't deserve a girl like her.

And neither did any of the others checking her out, unless they were
prepared to worship at her feet.

She tapped her phone screen with those blinged-out nails and bit her
bottom lip in disappointment. Sweet Christ. He sighed. She crossed
her legs and one toned thigh was showcased by the slit in her skirt.
Her white macrame sandal bounced under the black rose tattoo
snaking down her calf. She wore several toe rings, the nails a perfect
match to her hands, and her short paisley jacket ended abruptly at
her hourglass waist.

She was part gypsy and part Bohemian princess. And evidently, part
sorceress, based on how he couldn't bring himself to look away.

The fringe on her leather purse swung back and forth as she slipped
her phone inside the zipper.

Leaning forward, she whispered something he couldn't hear and then

nodded as if listening to the air.

His cell buzzed in his hand, and he thumbed the screen to find a text
from Chief Leo Johnson.

I take it your coffee maker is still not unpacked? You'd better be

heading home from Sacred Grounds once you get your caffeine fix.

The dude was a pain. Thane released an annoyed grunt. Leo had
probably driven by the shop and spotted his car out front. Geez,
stalker much?

"Yes." Rose squinted and Thane worked a double-take. What in the

Sam Hill was she doing?

"Oh-h-h. Oh my. I see. Well…"

She glanced his way past those criminally long lashes, and he
stiffened at the sadness in her eyes.

No. He jerked his attention down to his phone as if their gazes hadn't
just locked.

"Yeah, honey, I'm honestly not sure at all if he's ready for that."
Though, from what he could tell, it didn't really matter since she was
preoccupied with her imaginary friend. "He doesn't seem the type."
For shit's sake, the woman was breaking his heart. She was either
nuttier than a bag full of cats or had the strangest pick-up routine of
the century.

Beautiful beyond the point of distraction, and yet her bubble wasn't
anywhere near plumb.

"Here you go, sir." The blonde put his tall coffee by his elbow and set
two trays holding seven cups beside him.

"Uh, I only had the one."

"These are for her." She pointed at Rose and he quickly scanned the
cups, each with a different name scrawled on the side.

A coffee run for the office? Perhaps. He chewed the inside of his
cheek. That could be the case or, then again, maybe her imaginary
friends fueled a bad caffeine addiction. "I'll take them over."

"Oh, that'd be great."

Thane wedged his cup in the empty spot and toted the entire lot over
to Rose's table. "I guess these belong to you?"

She looked up with a smile and he nearly dropped the whole works.
Jesus. There was no way a battered soul like his could be prepared
for that radiant attention.

"Yep. How nice. I appreciate the help."

He slid the trays on the table and removed his cup, tapping his name
on the paper sleeve. But it just didn't feel right, leaving her alone. He
was a cop, or so he claimed, and she was a Woodward. At the
minimum, he should check she hadn't wandered off the facilities'
grounds to come up missing from the day nurse's roster.

Turning side to side, he scanned the coffee shop, but no one seemed
to be searching for a patient.
A roll of his eyes, and he dropped to one knee in hopes he'd appear
less intimidating to her.

"I'm Detective Thane Richmond. Are you…?" He cleared his throat.

"Is there someone looking for you?"

"Excuse me?" She smirked as if she'd heard that before and wouldn't
be suckered in by his corny behavior.

"Is there…someplace you need to be? A number I should call?" He'd

had his fair share of dealing with folks who were mentally unstable,
and pointing out their condition never went over very well.

Pussyfooting around the issue was always the safer route.

One eyebrow lifted, and she stared at him as if he was the one who
should be taking medication.

A glance over to where he'd been standing by the counter, and she
huffed with a shake of her head.

"I see." Her eyes narrowed and she swung her purse onto her
shoulder, picking up her trays as she stood. "Since you're new in
town, I'll cut you some slack. But before you continue sticking your
foot in your mouth, may I suggest you check in with Leo about how
things work around here? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm late for a
committee meeting over at the Towne Hall."

He reared back on his knee as she rounded his side and sashayed in
the direction of the exit.

Shooting to his feet, he spun just in time to catch her leveling a

scathing glare at him through the crowd.

Aw, fuck. His molars met with a loud clack, and his headache drilled
another ten degrees deeper.
He'd already had the… pleasure of meeting her dad and patriarch of
the founding family. A few weeks ago, when Leo made the
introductions, along with Julyan, Pierce Woodward's son.

At the time, Thane had assumed Julyan had a screw loose with the
way he'd kept sniffing Thane's cologne. Was it really such a stretch to
think Rose had the same problem with her talking to no one in
particular?

They were an odd bunch, who lined up with what he had heard
about everyone calling them Woodweirds. And yet, strange or not,
that wasn't the point.

They owned this damn town, and the last thing he needed was to
insult someone who could get him fired. "Nice going, asshole.
Greatest pick-up line in the book…said absolutely no man ever."

Quickly striding after her, he prepped what he hoped was the slickest
apology of his career. He'd be lucky to have a job after this. The silver
bells on her ankles jingled across the street, and he picked up the
pace as she headed for the canopied booths crowding the city plaza.
Either everyone was getting ready for an event or this was the day of
the Farmer's Market.

Right at the moment he was about to catch up, a man leaning

against a lamppost smiled at Rose, a blue baseball cap on his head.
His crossed arms were sleeved with decorative scars, and his
earlobes had been stretched with gauges.

But his predatory leer is what made Thane's blood boil…and got him
ready to drive his shoulder into the guy's stomach and carry him a
mile or more down the busy block.

His smile turned greasy as he tracked Rose's progress and stood from
the post as she approached.
Thane backed off as, at first, she slowed down a bit and seemed
fairly receptive toward the stranger. Then again, based on the
patrons inside Sacred Grounds, this character was only one of many
visitors to the town who had an affinity for multiple piercings. And
that included the people setting up their booths or generally milling
around the area.

To Thane, it was strange being surrounded by so much ink in a

community the polar opposite of Los Angeles. As if he'd stumbled
inside a local art gallery and, instead of the framed canvases hanging
on the walls, they'd come to life and were walking the streets.

"I heard I missed ya when you were making your rounds at the
campground yesterday." The dude with the cap tugged on the brim
before adjusting his Ray Ban sunglasses. "How have you been?"

Boosting his chin, Thane veered toward a vendor hawking silver

jewelry, but stayed close enough to overhear their conversation.

"Good, thanks for asking." Rose nodded with the trays, but kept her
distance, inching along the path. "I'm glad you could make it for the
festival."

"Me, too." Sunglasses jerked his thumb over his shoulder and slanted
his head toward the campground. "I got a really good site and
brought my camper along with my mobile tattoo parlor."

"Oh, that's wonderful. I'm glad to hear it."

"I thought you'd might like to check it out."

"Sure, I'd love to, but I can't right now. I'm running late to the Towne
Hall for a committee meeting." Turning around, she walked backward
a few steps. "Maybe we can touch base at some point during the
festivities over the next couple of days."
"It's a date." The guy waved and strolled off in the opposite direction
as Thane tracked his steps down the street.

Based on their exchange, they'd met before and were possibly

acquaintances or even friends.

"The lucky bastard." Pivoting back toward the plaza, Thane scanned
the booths, but Rose and her coffees were gone. Shit.

The next time he ran into her, he'd sink back down to his knees, but
rather than making a fool of himself, he'd start begging her to forgive
him.

Chapter Three

Rose bit her tongue against a frustrated curse as she entered the
conference room. Near the door, in the corner, stood her father and
Zeus, their heads lowered in a private conversation.

God, her older brother looked so much like their dad, the two of them
could've been twins.

Except, of course, for Zeus's dark waves, in complete contradiction to

the distinguished gray strands highlighting Pierce Woodward's blond
temples.

She placed the first tray at the head of the table and, thankfully,
worked the cramp from her fingers. They glanced in her direction,
mumbling something or another, and that was a sure sign she was
headed for trouble.

Rounding the room, she placed a hot cup in front of Juan Tenaya, the
Deputy Mayor who'd graciously agreed to fill the vacant spot until the
next mayoral election.

"Good morning, Miss Rose." His weathered face crinkled in a friendly

smile, and she briefly squeezed his hand.
"Good morning, Juan. It's nice to see you."

They honestly couldn't have asked for a better replacement to fill the
hole Bonnie Dixon had left.

Juan wasn't just a good man, he was also an upstanding member of

the Sierra-Miwok tribe.

Once next spring hit, he'd be a shoo-in to win and permanently fill
the seat. He'd done more for their community in the last two months
than the entire time Bonnie had held the position.

"Oh, good. You're finally here." Rose's mom strolled in, a pastry box
in one hand and a square inch of frosted cake in the other. "Open."

Dear God, she was at it before 7:00 am.

"It's too early for wedding cake, Ma—" The tart bite of citrus sugared
Rose's tongue and her mother smiled, dusting the crumbs off her
fingers. Then again, if Phillipa Woodward set her mind to something,
it was futile to ever get in her way.

"I'm worried the lemon curd isn't quite right." Pip selected another
sample but, before she got any wise ideas, Rose swallowed and
dodged to the side.

She'd tested so many different flavors throughout the past month,

it'd be a damn miracle if her bridesmaid dress fit without adding six
yards of material.

Lifting a sharp brow, Pip firmed her lips before shifting her focus to
Juan. "Open."

He dutifully tipped his head back and she popped a morsel in his
mouth.

"Mmm, that one's tart, and I like the airy frosting. But I think the
chocolate drizzle on the one from yesterday will appeal to more of
the guests." He slurped at his coffee, winking at Rose.

"Now that is a little more helpful." Patting his arm, Pip stepped past
him to Jodie, their admin assistant for the festival. "Open."

The young redhead laughed and folded her hands as if she were
taking communion.

Holy cow, this was nuts. Rose rolled her eyes. And while she was at
it, her poor sister, Inara.

Dropping her purse on the floor, Rose set down the remaining tray
and took the chair at the far end of the table. Inara would be the first
of eight Woodward offspring to get married and live happily ever
after. Much to their mother's immense joy and relief, based on how
she'd decided to pull out all the stops.

This week alone, that box had to contain the fifth round of cake
samples Rose had tasted. And today was only Wednesday. She
offered Jodie her cup, and then turned toward her brother, seated in
the chair on her right. "Morning."

Ray slipped off his racing glove and Rose searched his amber eyes as
he curled his warm fingers around her wrist. Great. What was he
doing, trying to read her? Given that layer of leather he'd been
wearing, he was already struggling with the extra people in town and
picking up way too much.

She tugged, but he held on and dammit. She closed her eyes.

The last thing he needed was to be scouring her dreams with his gift
of psychometry. But, of course, he wouldn't be thinking of himself.
The slightest hint she was upset, and he wouldn't stop to consider his
own wellbeing.

"Ray Devin Woodward." She blinked and leaned close. "This is so

unfair."
His brow creased and within the frame of his golden beard, the
corners of his mouth turned down.

Based on his reaction, he'd seen a lot more of her nightmares than
she was ready to admit.

"You've been shutting me out, Petals. For over a week. Now, what in
the hell is going on?"

"Later." She glanced at Zeus and then each of her parents, cheeks
hot with embarrassment and anger. Thank God, they'd been too
preoccupied to notice the exchange and make her the center of
attention.

As the Director of Hotel Management for the resort, Ray had moved
out of the family mansion years ago. And though his residing at the
penthouse had bought her some time, now that the sneak had made
contact with her skin, any hopes of concealing her nightly trauma had
pretty much flown out the window.

"Fine. I get it." He released her and sat back. "But we're not done
talking about this."

It was a dirty trick. She crossed her arms. One she wished she
possessed in this moment.

She could've used it on him to make sure he was okay, the same as
he liked to do with their siblings. Hopefully, that glove signified
nothing more than his usual, added layer of protection. He did that
sometimes when he was feeling overwhelmed or needing a little
sensory deprivation.

And speaking of people who might need some help… Lifting her
purse to her lap, she dug around for her phone and checked for any
incoming messages.

But there was still no reply text from Randy .

Rats. Placing the screen toward the table, she rapped her knuckles
on the wood and waited for everyone to turn. "Right then, let's get
this party started."

With her two appointments at The Three Sisters later this morning,
she wanted to make sure she had time to prepare.

Her father took a seat at the head of the table, and Rose silently
thanked the Fates for the distance. Her mother popped a cake square
into Ray's mouth and, centering the pastry box in the middle of the
table, pulled up a chair beside her husband.

As usual, Zeus sat on their father's right, and Jodie flipped open her
laptop with a smile. Fingers poised over the keys, she nodded at
Rose, signaling she was ready to take notes for the meeting.

"The campground was packed when I went up there to visit one of

the vendors yesterday." Rose dove into the event, grateful for the
distraction from being a psycho in her dreams, prowling around the
alley. This Friday, the third annual Skin Art Festival began, otherwise
known as her baby. "In fact, many of them decided to show up early
and checked in last weekend."

"That squares with how twenty-seven out of fifty-five vendors already

stopped by to announce they'd arrived." Jodie grinned and spun her
laptop, displaying the spreadsheet she'd prepared. "Last year, ninety-
two percent of them didn't show up until the day before the festival."

"It's incredible." Rose clicked her long nails on the table.

"I'll be honest." Juan stole another cake sample from the box. "I had
my doubts, but with all the activity, the festival has been a great
boost for the businesses in town. This is turning out to be a beneficial
kick-off to summer. Consider me impressed."

"Well, thanks." Rose smiled. "A few of them admitted they had such
fun last year, they opted to tack on an extra vacation. I'm really glad
we convinced the head ranger to close the campground to anyone
who wasn't a ticketholder or a vendor. We should probably think
about extending that next year, instead of ending it like this year on
Monday."

"Good idea, since about a third of the blocked rooms are already
occupied at the hotel." Ray jotted a note on his yellow legal pad. "I'm
expecting the rest either tomorrow or Friday. Possibly even Saturday
morning. Regardless, the entire hotel is booked solid through the
weekend. Even the presidential suites."

Zeus gave his brother a subtle thumbs-up before swinging his focus
to Rose. "My team checked the electricity for the booths in the plaza
and cross-referenced it with those who had paid. As of tomorrow,
they'll be up and running. Jodie and I will print the ticket sales
reports and I'll get them to you at the end of each day."

"Awesome. If there are any unforeseen problems, just go ahead and

shoot me a text." Rose nodded and turned to face Jodie. "I'll touch
base with you if Zeus has a conflict and come by here once I close up
the shop."

"I'll have the reports ready either way." Jodie worked the keyboard
and then sat forward, running her finger down the screen. "And I
was supposed to remind you about security."

"Right." Rose swiveled toward Juan and tried not to flinch at the stark
violent flash of a bloody knife. "I was thinking we should coordinate
with Chief Johnson to have a few extra officers on duty.

Some bad fights broke out at the Quicksilver last year and I'd hate to
have a repeat performance."

"Sure thing, Miss Rose." The box lid dragged along the top of his
hand as he helped himself to another cake sample. "I've also funded
Public Works so they can hire a crew to maintain the restrooms and
keep the grounds clean with broom-and-pan duty. If we stay on top
of the trash, it should make the cleanup that much easier once we're
done."

Oh, perfect. The guy was a gem. "Thank you for having my back, Mr.
Mayor."

He chuckled and tossed the square into his mouth.

"Anything else you guys can think of?" Rose met each gaze,
momentarily unnerved by the intense contact she shared with her
father. "Well, if that's everything, we're officially adjourned until the
day after tomorrow. Let's meet back here first thing Friday morning
to address any last-minute issues. In the meantime, I'm available if
anyone needs me. Feel free to call or stop by the shop."

Pip pushed the pastry box over to Juan and he grabbed it with
minimal encouragement. Jodie tucked her laptop into her case and
exited behind the Deputy Mayor.

No one else moved. That was, until her dad cocked a thick brow and
the door swung closed behind him as if it had been pushed by an
invisible hand.

Zeus crossed his arms. Ray narrowed his gaze and her mother placed
her palm on her chest.

Dammit. The entire family was ganging up on her, but Rose was in no
mood to do this right now.

Downing the last of her coffee, she wished for something stronger
and tossed the paper cup into the can. "You all need to quit staring
as if you just heard my best friend is dying in a coma. It won't do any
good and I have clients who are waiting. Now, if you'll excuse me, I
need to go."

Pip stood and wagged her finger in the direction of Rose's face.
"Honey, you haven't slept in a week. This can't go on with the bags
under your eyes and you looking like you crawled out of a cave."

Wow. Thanks. "I appreciate that, Mom."

Shoving away from the table, Rose swung her purse to her shoulder
and Zeus instantly met her on her feet.

"Knock it off." Ray tucked his pen into his leather portfolio and closed
it with an authoritative clap. "Rose is right. Now isn't the time and the
Towne Hall isn't the place. At the very least, we should afford her
that respect until we can discuss this somewhere more private."

Their dad's penetrating green gaze shifted to Ray, and Rose held her
breath as they waited. "Your sister is in pain. I can sense it from
here."

"And so can everyone else in this room." Her brother sighed. "But
dragging it out of her, when she insists she'd not ready, won't do us
any good."

"Then dinner. Tonight. At the house. Period." Zeus jabbed his blunt
finger at the table.

Like a bossy gorilla who'd apparently decided he was in charge of the

rules.

A muscle ticked in his jaw as it firmed to a sharp edge. "You do know

I can hear what you're thinking?"

God, the guy knew just how to push her buttons. Rose propped her
hand on her hip. Getting her family to mind their own business was
worse than pounding nails without a hammer. "I just wish for two
seconds you didn't find it necessary to come at me with these mafia-
style tactics."

"They're worried about you, sweetheart." Stepping away from her

chair, her mother rubbed Rose's back, ever the one trying to smooth
things over.
"I get that. I do." Rose scrubbed at her tired eyes. "What I don't get
is why their concern for me excuses them from being such bullies."

Or patronizing, and broody, and treating her like she was five and
didn't know how to take care of herself.

Leaving her mom's side, Rose strode for the door, but drew up short
as Zeus moved into her path.

"Like this. Do you mind? I have places to be."

For starters, to go see if Randy was okay before she went out of her
mind.

Zeus stared down at her for a tense moment and, finally, his gaze
softened at the corners of his green eyes. "It's bad, isn't it?
Goddammit, Petals. I don't understand why you didn't bring this to us
sooner."

Aw, crap. She slumped and glanced at Ray as he pushed in his chair
and, in several long strides, he crossed the room to stand beside her.
"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Zeus, I just—"

"Come on." Ray's palm met the small of her back. "I'm walking you
out before this takes a turn and we wind up losing our window."

Picking up his cue, she bit her tongue and let him escort her through
the door into the hall. Down the corridor, she kept tempo with his
pace until they exited to the sunny parking lot.

The bad news was, she could only blame herself for acting like a
complete heel. "I should go back and apologize. Zeus was only trying
to be a protective, older brother."

"Please." Ray sputtered and came to a stop. "He's never understood

the concept of boundaries.

The guy doesn't know when to back off."

True. Huffing a laugh, she checked her phone for what had to be the
millionth time that morning.

Once again, there was no waiting message from Randy. Where in the
hell could he be?

"Listen." Ray handed his portfolio off to her and tugged his fitted
leather glove down his fingers.

"I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."

After the way he'd just saved her, he could name his price. "Sure.
What do you need?"

"Let me be the one to go check on Randy and make sure that he's
okay."

Ha! She sized him up through a calculating squint. "That was pretty
smooth, considering we were just discussing the value of
boundaries."

A deep laugh shook his shoulders, and he slightly shrugged with a tip
of his head. "This is different, and you and I both know it. You got
yourself all worked up, and knocking on his door will only tip Randy
off you've shown up because of a problem. Besides, he probably
went camping in the woods or something. And the reason he hasn't
texted you back is because his phone can't pick up a signal."

Maybe… Could be… She bit the inside of her cheek.

Admittedly, it was a rational idea. Especially the part about ringing
Randy's doorbell and figuring out what she would say.

Uh-h-h…I just wanted to make sure I hadn't axe murdered you last
night at the Quicksilver?

"Let me go." Ray stole his portfolio from her hand and tucked it
under his arm. "You've got a ton of stuff on your plate, and I don't
mind. I'll either text you after I talk to him or, if you don't hear from
me, I'll give you an update tonight when I come for dinner."

"Fine, you convinced me. Quit rubbing it in."

"There's the Petals I know." He pivoted with a wave, and Rose sent
up a prayer as Ray hopped into his Audi and drove off.

It had been stupid to even follow her in the first place.

Smiling with a nod at the duty officer, Thane sipped at his coffee cup.
But after realizing he'd overheard where she was headed, he'd
chased her without giving it much thought.

The second he'd spotted her through the crowd, he'd tried to process
what in the hell he was doing. She'd entered the Towne Hall, and he
rushed in behind her just as she ducked into a large conference
room.

Pacing the corridor, he'd raked his hand through his hair, but didn't
want to barge into the middle of her meeting. So, he resigned himself
to apologize later and walked to the police station around the corner.

A push through the glass door, and he'd approached the reception
desk only to be told that he had to wait.

For the fourth time that week.

Thane gritted his teeth. Apparently, Leo had tired of the same old
routine and denied him access to the station past the lobby. Honest
to God, the guy got under his skin. A couple more days with his cat in
that house, and there'd no longer be a question of whether or not
Thane had earned the privilege of seeing his desk.

The door flew back on its hinges to the right of the counter and Leo
scowled at Thane across the lobby. "Vacation, Richmond. Look it up
in the dictionary. You've got two weeks left before I'd even consider
putting you back on active duty."

"Good morning, sweetheart. I missed you too." Face deadpan, Thane

brought his coffee to his lips, eyes on the chief as he swallowed.

"Don't be giving me that crap." Leo came to a stop. "What happened

to getting some much-needed rest from the stress of working in L.A.?
Go fishing, dammit. Take to the woods on a hike. I don't really care,
as long as you leave and hold up your end of the bargain."

Well, shit. Dropping his gaze, Thane shuffled his feet. He had to
admit his friend had a point.

He'd agreed to a month off prior to moving up the coast. Half to

unpack, buy furniture and groceries, and the other half to deal with
baggage he'd brought with him of the emotional type.

On the other hand, if his mental health was Leo's main worry, he'd
ease up on the restrictions already. "One more night alone with my
thoughts, and I won't be held accountable for my actions."

"You're relentless, you know that?" A long beat passed before Leo
grunted and dragged his palm down his brown cheeks. "All right, I'll
cry uncle. But only because we could use the extra badge with the
Skin Arts Festival this weekend."

He pulled an about-face and Thane trailed him through the door,

following close on his friend's polished heels.
The Skin Arts Festival? Sounded like trouble. "I take it that explains
all the recent activity going on in the city center. I ran into some
bikers at the coffee shop this morning. They didn't seem the typical
Woodward Hill crowd."

"You might want to curtail that interest in your voice. The worst thing
that happened was a fight breaking out about two or three years
ago." Hauling up short, Leo stopped at his office door and hooked his
thumbs on the loops of his gun belt. "They're harmless and, besides
that, wasn't the whole point of you moving here so you could slow
things down a little? I thought we agreed a sleepy resort town would
be the best decision for you."

Jesus. Thane frowned and grumbled a few choice words. Talk about
being called out for the simple crime of wanting to stay busy.

"Yeah. That's what I thought." Leo cocked a thin brow. "This is the
reason I didn't want you in here until I was sure you were ready. I'm
telling you, no one around these parts is interested in causing grief,
and that includes the vendors who rolled into the campground for the
Skin Arts Festival. From here on in, get used to writing parking tickets
and rescuing the occasional kitten in a tree. Now, if you promise to
stop seeing the boogeyman around every corner, I'll go ahead and
give you the tour."

"Fine." Thane tossed his hand in the air. So much for being the one
who had a dull axe in desperate need of some grinding. "How about
we start with my office?"

"Should be safe enough." Pivoting toward the hall, Leo jingled a set
of keys and strode to the next door down from his office.

A twist of the knob and he stood to the side as Thane gave the small
room a quick once-over.

It was nothing fancy, but that was fine by him. Standard issue desk.
Bookcase and filing cabinet in the corner.
The only thing that made his skin itch was the wide plate glass
window behind his chair and how it would be at his back. Seemed a
complete waste of the situational awareness to ignore his clear view
of the street. "Okay if I rearrange the furniture a little?"

"I didn't know feng shui was your thing."

Nice. Thane accepted the key and swung the door closed as Leo
started in the direction of the comms center.

"I took the liberty of stashing a few supplies in the center drawer, as
well as some folders and the forms you'll need to fill out your reports.
Also, before you leave, make sure to stop by the front desk and get a
set of master keys for the building." Leo nodded at the freckle faced
dispatcher manning the 9-1-1 emergency notification system. "This is
Josh O'Malley."

Thane transferred his coffee to shake the kid's hand. Though if he

had to guess— Josh seemed jumpy enough—he was a week out of
the academy. "Detective Thane Richmond. It's nice to meet you."

After the introductions were made, the tour continued toward the
rear of the building. The copy room had a fax machine and several
shelves stacked with office supplies. Vehicle checkout was in the
garage, in case Thane needed a squad car or a utility vehicle.

There was the also a K-9 unit and a female trainer with three friendly
but well-mannered German shepherds.

"By the way." Leo paused at the entrance to the lab, his hand resting
on the swinging door. "You and I will be doubling on narcotics until I
can hire another detective. Hopefully, it won't be too much longer.
I'm interviewing candidates now."

Wait… Thane squinted. What was all that B.S. about them residing in
a sleepy resort town?
"We've got a drug problem?"

Leo see-sawed his head side to side. "Woodward Hill may be small,
but it's also fairly isolated.

With not much to do, recreational drugs can be common, though we

try to keep that on the down-low."

"Understood." In the past, narcotics had never been Thane's forte,

despite the year he and Leo had run a beat during the time they
were partners in Los Angeles. In the decade since, Thane had locked
horns with plenty of the same element in his tenure working
homicide.

God knew, there was no shortage of drug-related deaths in every

demographic of the city. But since he'd been given no choice getting
up to speed on the latest, he was confident he and Leo could more
than handle whatever issues came their way.

A push of the door, and Thane entered behind Leo, wrenching to

attention as Dr. Linda Esposito leaned forward to jot a note in a file.

"Hey, Doc." Leo grinned and bumped his chin toward Thane.
"Brought you a visitor."

She glanced up and straightened before snapping the lid closed on a

large plastic bin on her desk.

"Hello, Detective Richmond. I'll be with you in just a second."

An oomph left her chest as she hefted the container, and Thane
stepped forward to help her too late. That thing was full and almost
bigger than her.

She dropped it on a cart beside the double doors on the opposite side
of the room. "I bagged the last of the evidence on the Dixon case.
It's ready for the trial next week."
"Excellent." Propping his backside against the forensics counter, Leo
crossed his arms. "I'll let Josh know and ask him to bring everything
up to my office ASAP."

Flipping the file shut, she carried it to the metal cabinet and jammed
it inside the top drawer. It slammed with a click and she rounded her
desk, hitching her hip on the nearest corner.

"I gotta say, it's nice to see you again, Thane." Their eyes locked and
he shifted his weight to hide how he'd instinctively flinched. "Tell me,
how've you been?"

It had been difficult to decide if working with her was even going to
be in his best interest. Her presence would remind him of the internal
damage he was fighting hard to heal.

Then again, it wasn't as if the past was her fault. And maybe when it
came to the grand scheme of things, being exposed to her on a
regular basis would help to dull the pain. Sorta like rubbing at a spot
until a callous formed and he'd eventually not feel a damn thing.

"I'm ready for my job to get started." He braced and waited for her
sixth sense to kick in. That uncanny way she always had of seeing
inside a person's head.

One peek at the turmoil of being around her, and she'd probably
suggest Leo would be wise to confiscate Thane's badge and gun.

"Are you settling in okay?"

He shrugged. "The slow pace of living in Woodward Hill takes some

getting used to."

"I feel your pain." She chuckled and shook her head. "I've been here
three months and I'm still trying to adjust. Not to mention how
everyone winds up knowing your business. But I'm actually liking it
here a lot more than I anticipated. Take my advice and don't dismiss
it before you give it a shot."

Coming from anyone else, it would've seemed odd she'd picked up on

his concerns. But since he'd already assumed she would read his
mind, he fell into his usual cop-mode and let the habit of his curiosity
take over. "Why did you move to Woodward Hill?"

"My grandmother passed this last January, and I inherited her

house."

"Oh." Thane's shoulders dropped, along with some of his guard, at

the news of her recent loss.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I appreciate the thought."

Static scratched from the radio at Leo's hip, and the dispatcher loudly
cleared his throat. "Um, Chief Johnson, we have a ta-ten-fifty-four."

Shit. Thane jolted and spun for the door.

"Slow your roll." Leo snagged Thane's arm and shared a knowing
glance with Linda from across the room. "God love the kid, but he
never gets those codes right."

"I swear, I must've told him to consult the manual about a dozen
times." Smacking her palms against her thighs, she pushed up from
her desk with a tired sigh.

For Christ's sake, where was he? Living in Mayberry? Next thing
they'd tell him the kid got one bullet buttoned up safe in his shirt
pocket.

Standing from the counter, Leo keyed the mic at his shoulder. "Ten-
four, Josh, I read you loud and clear. Now I need you to double-check
since you just gave me the code for a possible dead body."
"Y-yes, sir, that's it! Someone's reported a dead body behind the
Quicksilver Bar and Grill."

Linda froze in her tracks halfway around her desk and swiveled on
her toes to face Leo.

"What?" He keyed the mic a second time. "Tell them I'm on my way
and I'm bringing Richmond and Esposito with me."

Goddammit, so much for zero chance of hard crime being committed

in the area. Downing the last of his cold coffee, Thane crumpled the
cup and lobbed it in the direction of the trash. "Why do I get the
feeling the bad news just started?"

Leo clapped him on the back as they all headed for the exit. "Because
you're a miserable son of a bitch."

Chapter Four

Ducking under the police tape, Thane let Linda do her thing and took
a much-needed break from the scene. Same as the previous cases
he'd been assigned with her, she'd disappeared inside her head to
sort through the evidence and mentally piece everything together.

Evidently, those were the steps when a person was looking to dissect
the rhythm of a violent murder. At least, if said person had an eidetic
memory and was a genius at gathering forensics.

The victim was a young Latino by the name of Renaldo Garcia.

Tapping his cell phone against his gloved palm, Thane strolled a few
paces down the alley. His body had been found lying on its back and
wedged behind a rusty green dumpster.

When they'd first arrived, an employee from the disposal company

had been pacing beside his running truck. Turned out, it was trash
pickup day for the marina, and the moment the guy had backed into
the alley in broad daylight, he'd noticed a puddle of coagulated blood
and had jumped out onto the blacktop.

He'd followed the trail leading to Garcia's feet beside the Quicksilver
Bar and Grill. And thankfully, once he'd pushed the dumpster aside,
he'd had the foresight not to touch anything else or track back and
forth through the area.

If only they'd gotten that lucky with the employee who'd taken out
the garbage Tuesday night.

Unfortunately, it had been too dark for her to spot the blood on the
bottoms of her sneakers.

As a result, the entire scene had been contaminated. Something

crunched under his boots, and Thane looked down before squatting
to check the ground. Especially with the floodlight out of commission.
He picked up a shard and bounced it in his hand, studying the bare
overhead socket.

Then again, maybe they should be thanking their lucky stars for the
coincidental timing. If not for the sanitation department's rigorous
schedule, it could've easily been up to a week before Renaldo Garcia
had been found.

"No security footage available for the alley." Leo strode through the
rear entrance and Thane stood with a nod. That was pretty much as
they'd expected. But it was the bleak worry creasing the corners of
Leo's eyes that really gave Thane reason to pause.

He'd seen it before. During their time in L.A. How coming face to face
with the cruelty of human scum could make a man aged ten years in
a day.

"Interior cameras confirm Randy left and locked this back door just
after two o'clock Monday morning. Sylvia opened up from the front
Another random document with
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Contrasted expressions or comparisons, 20, XVII.;
comparison, short, 21, 1;
so-that, rather-than, etc., 21, 2;
as, than, 21, 3;
first expression negative, the other affirmative, 21, 4.
Consequently, 9, IV.
Copy, definition of, 104.
Correction in proof to be disregarded, 109, IX.
Cousin, when to commence with a capital, 63, 2, 3; 90, 2; 96, 2.
Crooked words in proof, 110, XII.

D
Dagger, double dagger, uses of, 53, VI.
Dash, 34-38;
additional punctuation marks, 38, 1, 2.
Days of the month, 60, VI.;
spring, summer, etc., 61, Rem.
Dates, 22, Rem.
Deity, the, 63, X.;
difference among writers, 63, 1;
First Cause, etc., 64, 2;
King of kings, etc., 64, 3;
eternal, divine, etc., 64, 4;
pronouns, 64, 5; 65, 6;
god, goddess, deity, 65, 7.
Democrat, 60, V.
Dependent clauses, 6, II.;
definition of, 7, 1;
omission of comma, 7, 2.
Devil, 59, 3.
Diæresis, 50, 4.
Diphthongs, how indicated in proof, 110, XIV.
Direct question, 31, I.
Direct quotation. See Quotation.
Divine, 64, 4.
Division of words, 50, III.;
where to divide a word, 51, 1.
Divisions of sentences, 23, I.; 25, Gen. Rem.
Divisions of a statement, 69, XVII.;
how readily recognized, 70, 1;
usage of some writers, 70, 2;
sentences broken off to attract attention, 70, 3.

E
East, when to commence with a capital, 59, 1.
Ellipsis, marks of, 52, III.
Emotion, strong, 32, I.;
unusual degree, 32, Rem.
Emphasis, words repeated for, 17, 3;
use of the dash to give prominence, 37, Gen. Rem.; 35, 1.
Enumeration of particulars, 27, III.;
particulars preceded by a colon, 27, 1;
not introduced by thus, following, etc., 27, 2;
particulars preceded by a semicolon, 27, 3;
comma and dash sometimes used, 28, 4.
Envelopes, addressed, 77;
with special request, 78;
with stamp, 78.
Esq., 74, 3.
Eternal, referring to the Deity, 64, 4.
Example, punctuation of words preceding, 24, Rem.;
first word of, 66, 4.
Exclamation point, 32, 33;
inclosed within parenthetical marks, 40, 3.
Expressions, inverted, 12, VI.;
two brief, 19, 2;
contrasted, 20, XVII.;
complete in themselves, 23, II.; 28, Gen. Rem.;
series of, 24, III.;
negative and affirmative, 21, 4;
at the end of sentences, 22, XIX.;
equivalent to sentences, 57, 2.

F
Father, when to commence with a capital, 63, 2, 3.
Federalist, 60, V.
Figures omitted, 36, IV.;
Arabic, 22, XVIII.
Finally, 9, IV.
First Cause, First Principle, 64, 2;
Father of mercies, Father of spirits, 64, 3.
First word in a sentence, 57, I.;
in expressions numbered, 69, XVII.;
after a period, 57, 3.
Following, 27, III., 2.
Foreign words, 43, 2.
Forms of address, 78-82.
Friend, when to commence with a capital, 63, 3; 90, 2; 96, 2.

G
General remarks, 28, 37, 110.
God, 63, 64;
goddess, 65, 7;
God of hosts, 64, 3.
Gospel, 61, 3.
Greeting. See Introductory words.

H
Handbills, use of capitals in, 62, 3.
Heading of letters, 83;
definition, 83;
punctuation, 84;
large cities, 85;
a small town or village, 86;
hotels, 86;
seminaries or colleges, 86;
position, 86.
Heaven and hell, 59, 3.
Heavenly, applied to the Deity, 64, 4.
Hers, 48, 3.
Hesitation, how indicated, 34, I.
His, Him, referring to the Deity, 64, 5.
His Excellency, 76, 5; 62, IX.;
address of envelope, 80.
Hon., 75, 4; 62, IX.
However, 9, IV.
Hyphen, the, 49-51;
connecting several words, 49, 2;
omitted, 49, 3;
doubt as to the use, 49, 5.
I
I, 68, XV.
If, 7, 1.
Indeed, 9, IV.
Independent clauses, 6, I.;
definition of, 6, 1;
comma omitted, 6, 2;
separation by a semicolon, 6, 3.
Infinite One, 64, 2.
In short, in fact, in reality, 9, IV.
Interjections, 32, II.;
exclamation point at the end of a sentence, 33, 1, 2.
Interrogation point, 31, I.;
inclosed in parenthetical marks, 40, 2.
Introductory words of letters, definition, 90;
punctuation, 91;
position, 91;
forms of salutation, 92;
salutations to young ladies, 93;
to married ladies, 94.
Introductory remarks, 5, 73.
Inverted expressions, 12, VI.;
explanation, 12, 1;
omission of comma, 12, 2.
Inverted letter in proof, 107, IV.
Italics, how indicated, 53, V.; 107, VI.;
words from a foreign language, 43, 2;
written with or without a capital, 60, Rem.
Its, 48, 3.
K
King of kings, 64, 3.

L
Leaders, 53, IV.
Letters or figures omitted, 36, IV.;
3-9 equivalent to, 37, Rem.
Letters omitted, 47, I.;
the apostrophe, 47, Rem.
Letters, care in writing, some facts, 73.
Letter-forms, 71-100.
List of abbreviations, 29, 30; 30, 7.
LL. D., 30, 5; 75, 3.
Logical subject, 19, XVI.;
definition of, 20, 1;
custom of some writers, 20, 2.
Long sentences, 25, I.
Lord of lords, 64, 3.

M
Madame, 93, 94.
Marks of parenthesis, 39, 40;
additional marks, 39, 1;
dashes, 37, V.;
comma, 40, 4.
Mark of attention in proof, 110, XV.
Members of sentences, 25, Gen. Rem.
Miscellaneous marks, 52, 53.
Miss, 74, 1; 93.
Months and days, names of, 60, VI.;
autumn, spring, etc., 61, Rem.
More—than, 21, 2.
Moreover, 9, IV.

N
Name, person’s, 16, 2, d.;
abbreviated, 30, 2; 74, 2; 96, Rem.
period used after name, 29, Rem.
See Signature.
Namely, 9, IV.; 35, 2.
Nations, names of, 59, IV.;
Italics and Italicized, 60, Rem.
Negative expressions, 21, 4.
Nevertheless, 9, IV.
Nor, 6, 1.
Not, contrasted expressions, 21, 4.
North, when to commence with a capital, 59, 1.
Nouns in apposition, 15, 16. See Words.
Numeral figures, 22, XVIII.;
dates, 22, Rem.

O
O, 68, XV.;
not followed by an exclamation point, 32, II.
Of which, 9, 3;
of course, 9, IV.
Omitted, letters or figures, 36, IV.; 47, I.
Omissions, how indicated, 52, II.;
in proof, 106, III.
Or, 6, 1; 18, 2.
Ours, 48, 3.

P
Pages, numbering of, 30, 4.
Paragraphs, quoted, 46, IV.;
sign of, 53, VI.;
in proof, 108, VIII.
Parallel lines, 53, VI.
Parenthesis, 39, I.;
additional marks, 39, 1, a, b, c;
comma and dash often preferred, 37, V.; 40, 4;
doubtful assertion, 40, 2;
irony or contempt, 40, 3.
Parenthetical words and phrases, 9, IV.;
definition of, 10, 1;
when commas are omitted, 10, 2;
parenthetical words and adverbs, 10, 3.
Parenthetical expressions, 11, V.;
distinction between parenthetical expressions and
parenthetical words, 11, 1, a, b;
when commas are omitted, 11, 2.
Parties, names of, 60, V.
See Sects.
Participial clauses, 14, IX.;
sign of, 14, Rem.
Perhaps, 9, IV.
Period, indicates what, 3;
uses of, 29, 30.
Persons and places, names of, 58, III.;
North, South, etc., 59, 1;
words derived from names of persons, 59, 2;
Satan, devil, 59, 3.
Person or thing addressed, 13, VIII.;
strong emotion, 14, Rem.
Personification, 67, XIV.
Phrases and clauses, 18, XV.;
definition of a phrase, 19, 1;
of a clause, 5;
when commas are omitted, 19, 2;
words and phrases in a series, 19, 3;
parenthetical phrases, 9, 10.
Poetry, first word of each line, 58, II.
Political parties, 60, V.
Possession, 47, II.;
singular of nouns, 47, 1;
plural of nouns, 48, 2;
ours, yours, etc., 48, 3.
Prefixes, 50, II.;
definition of, 50, 1;
vowel and consonant 50, 2;
vice-president, etc., 50, 3;
when to use the diæresis, 50, 4.
Prince of life, Prince of kings, 64, 3.
Projecting leads in proof, 110, XIII.
Pronouns referring to the Deity, 64, 5; 65, 6.
Proof-reading, 101-114;
its importance, 102;
preparation of manuscript, 102, 103;
copy, proof-sheet, revise, 104;
wrong letters and punctuation marks, 105, I.;
 wrong words, 106, II.;
omissions, 106, III.;
inverted letter, 107, IV.;
strike out, 107, V.;
capitals and italics, 107, VI.;
spacing, 108, VII.;
paragraphs, 108, VIII.;
correction to be disregarded, 109, IX.;
broken letters, 109, X.;
transpose, 109, XI.;
crooked words, 110, XII.;
projecting leads, 110, XIII.;
diphthongs, 110, XIV.;
mark of attention, 100, XV.;
Gen. Rem., 110.
Proof-sheet, definition of, 104;
specimen proof, 111, 112;
corrected proof, 113, 114.
Punctuation, its importance, iii., iv.;
how to teach it, iv., v.;
principal punctuation marks, 3;
other marks, 4;
punctuation marks, why used, 3, 4.

Q
Question, direct, 31, I.;
question and answer in the same paragraph, 36, 3.
Quotation, short, 12, VII.;
long, 13, 5; 26, II.; 27, 1;
expressions resembling a quotation, 13, 1;
introduced by that, 13, 2; 65, 1;
single words quoted, 13, 3; 65, 2; 66, 3;
quotation divided, 13, 4;
quotation in the middle of a sentence, 27, 2;
quotation within a quotation, 45, 1; 46, 2;
 parts of a quotation omitted, 46, IV., 2;
first word of a quotation, 65, XI.;
examples as illustrations, 24, Rem.; 66, 4.
Quotation marks, 43-46;
direct quotation, 43, I.;
exact words not given, 43, 1;
words from a foreign language, 43, 2;
quotation followed by a comma, semicolon, colon, period,
44, 4;
by an exclamation or interrogation point, 44, 5, 6;
titles of books, 44, II.;
quotation within a quotation, 45, III.;
paragraphs, 46, IV.
Quoted passage, 41, I.

R
Republican, Radical, 60, V.
Rather—than, 21, 2.
Reference marks, 53, VI.
References, 68, XVI.;
volume and chapter, 69, 1;
to the Bible, 69, 3;
volume and page sufficient, 69, 2.
Relative clauses, 7, III.;
commas when used, 7, III., 1;
when omitted, 7, III., 2;
introduced by who, etc., 8, 1;
exceptions, 8, 2, 3.
Reporter, remarks by, 41, 2.
Resolutions, 66, XII.;
Resolved and That, 66, Rem.
Revise, definition of, 104.
S
Salutations. See Introductory words.
Scriptures, sacred writings, 61, 3.
Sects, names of, 60, V.;
Republican, etc., 60, 1, 2;
Church, 60, 3.
Section mark, 53, VI.
Semicolon, 23-25;
indicates distant relationship, 3, 4;
often preferred to a colon, 28;
semicolon and comma, 25.
Sentence, definition of, 5; 57, 1;
long sentences, 23, I.;
members of, 23, II.; 25, Gen. Rem.; 28, Gen. Rem.;
complete sentences, 29, I.;
broken sentences, 34, I.;
first word of, 57, I.;
expressions equivalent to a sentence, 57, 2;
word following a period, 57, 3;
word following an interrogation or an exclamation, 58, 4.
Series of words, 17, XIV.;
commas, when not used, 17, XIV., 1;
when used, 18, XIV., 2, 3;
last word preceding a single word, 18, 1;
two words connected by or, 18, 2;
series of phrases and clauses, 18, XV.;
of expressions, 24, III.
Short quotations. See Quotations.
Signatures, 29, Rem.; 97, 98.
Since, 7, 1.
Sister, when to commence with a capital, 63, 2; 90, 2; 96, 2.
Sir, 63, 3.
Son of man, 64, 3.
So—that, so—as, 21, 2.
South, 59, 1.
Spacing in proof, 108, VII.
Specimen proof, 111, 112.
Special words, capitalization of, 66, 67.
Spring, summer, 61, Rem.
Stamp, 78.
Star, reference mark, 53, VI.
Strike out in proof, 107, V.
Strong emotion, 32, I.;
unusual emotion, 32, Rem.
Subject, logical, 19, XVI.;
definition of, 20, 1;
subject of statement or quotation, 35, III.;
definition of, 36, 1;
author, 36, 2;
question and answer, 36, 3;
as, thus, etc., 36, 4.
Summary of letter-forms, 98-100.
Supreme Being, 64, 2;
Son of man, 64, 3.

T
Titles, annexed, 16, 3;
of essays, orations, etc., 29, Rem.; 61, 2;
of books, 44, II.; 61, VII.;
of magazines, 45, 1, 2;
of persons, 62, IX.;
sacred writings, 61, 3.
Title-pages, 62, VIII.;
first word of a chapter, 62, 2;
handbills and advertisements, 62, 3.
Than, 21, 3.
That, 8, 1; 13, 2;
quotation introduced by that, 65, 1;
in resolutions, 66, Rem.
That is, 35, 2.
Theirs, 48, 3.
Therefore, 9, IV.
Thus, this, these, 27, III.; 27, 2; 36, 4.
To-day, to-night, to-morrow, 49, 4.
Too, 10, 3.
Transpose in proof, 109, XI.

U
Until, 7, 1.
Unconnected words, 16, XIII.,
comma, when used, 17, 1, 3;
when not used, 17, 2.
Uncle, when to commence with a capital, 63, 2, 3; 90, 2; 96, 2.

V
Verb omitted, 15, X.;
main clauses separated by a semicolon, 15, 1;
comma omitted, 15, 2.
Vice-president, 50, 3.

W
What, 8, 1.
When, 7, 1.
Words, parenthetical, 9, IV.;
in apposition, 15, XI.;
unconnected, 16, XIII.;
series of, 17, XIV.;
repeated for emphasis, 17, 3; 35, 3;
two connected by or, 18, 2;
words and phrases in a series, 19, 3;
from a foreign language, 43, 2;
compound, 49, I.;
division of, 50, III.;
repeated, 52, I.;
special, 66, XIII.
Words personified, 67, XIV.;
caution, 68, Rem.
Wrong letters and punctuation marks in proof, 105, I.;
wrong words, 106, II.

Y
Yours, 48, 3.
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