Page 13 of A Charming Touch of Tarot (The Gin & Tarot Club #2)

13

Two of Swords

Nick

The Falls Haven harbor, usually humming with the activity of sailors and fishermen, is active for an entirely different reason tonight. There’s a frenzied energy permeating the surrounding area as police rope off a section with tape, and a group of people work to prepare the body for transport.

“What do you make of this?” Chief Skiver of the Falls Haven homicide unit asks as he saunters up next to me.

I inhale a deep breath, the smell of seawater infiltrating my senses.

“Her family was concerned that she might have fallen into bad company,” I say, recalling Chief Grayson’s words days after the girl went missing.

He nods. “Wouldn’t doubt it. Especially given her recent employment at Haven’s Bard. That place is a mecca for trouble.”

Haven’s Bard is the local watering hole, but due to its location, it pulls in unsavory characters. Through the years, word of the troubles the town has with that place has spread as far as Knox Harbor.

The wind rouses, and shivers race down my spine, but it’s hard to tell if it’s the breeze coming off the water or the scene playing out in front of me.

The ominous black bag, a grim harbinger of death, is tightly zipped shut, concealing the lifeless form of Chelsea Grayson. The twenty-two-year-old vanished without a trace a week ago, leaving her family gripped with worry. But I knew her fate before tonight.

I just can’t say that to Skiver or anyone else overseeing this case.

“What’s your take?” I ask, looking away from the body bag.

“We know she wasn’t working the night she went missing, and nobody at the Bard recalls seeing her that night,” he says, detailing the conversations that were started upon Chelsea going missing.

“Any camera footage that can confirm that?”

He huffs a laugh. “That place doesn’t have cameras. It’s the kinda place that thrives on seedy shit. Can’t have footage that would get the place closed down for good.” He sighs. “Besides, based on what she was wearing, she wasn’t at Haven’s Bard.”

“You sure about that? Maybe that’s the very reason she’s in that bag over there,” I say, tipping my head in the direction of her body.

“You could be right, but I doubt it.” He clears his throat, spitting onto the ground beside him. “Chelsea was smart. Too smart to be prancing around Haven’s Bard in a dress like that. She knows the types of people who frequent that place. I just don’t see it. That red dress is a stark departure from what anyone would wear in that area of town.”

“Any place in town that would make sense for her to be that dressed up?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Falls Haven isn’t that kinda place, Detective.”

This whole damn night is raising unsettling questions about the circumstances leading to her disappearance. Nobody I’ve spoken to can place Chelsea anywhere around town that night. But clearly she was here, and I intend to get to the bottom of what transpired, leading to her being killed and dumped in the harbor.

I look down at my phone to find several text messages from Malone.

Malone

Call me. It’s important.

I turn to Chief Skiver. “Excuse me for a minute.”

He nods his head, and I move off to the side, pulling up Malone’s number. Eric sent that last text ten minutes ago. Hopefully shit didn’t blow up in that time.

One of the main reasons I like Eric as my partner is that he’s reliable. He respects my boundaries, refraining from unnecessary interruptions when I’m off duty, unless the situation is truly urgent. And when I’m deep in a case that takes me away, he employs all available resources to resolve an issue before reaching out to me. So the fact that he’s texting and calling me at damn near midnight on New Year’s Eve tells me something is wrong.

“Buddy, we have a problem,” he says by way of a greeting.

“Fucking spit it out, Malone. I’m dealing with a dead body over here.”

He sighs heavily down the line. “Fine. I’ll just haul her ass to jail, and then you can fuck off with your bitching because I called and you were too busy.”

Her?

Now he has my attention. There isn’t one person I can think of that he’d call to get my permission to take in.

“I’m listening,” I drawl.

“Man, don’t shoot the messenger, but I was doing my rounds at Wintersgate Cemetery, and found a vacant car at the gates. I decided to investigate, and, well…” He blows out a breath, and I’m about to snap at him to hurry up with his long-winded story, but his next words come and knock the air from me.

“There were trespassers, and one is Alyssa.”

A range of emotion rushes through me before settling on confusion.

“She wasn’t actually in the cemetery, but the others were.” Eric stops, clearing his throat. “And they were attempting to burn a scarecrow.”

My face screws up, and I shake my head. “What?”

I’m not even sure what I’m asking. This whole conversation has me entirely baffled.

“Who’s with her?” I ask, but really, I know before he even answers.

There’s only one person who could’ve led this charge, and my bet is on Corinne Moradi. That woman has been nothing but trouble since landing in Alyssa’s path.

“The culprit appears to be Lanie Anderson.”

“That’s also not surprising.” I groan. “What’s this about a scarecrow?”

“I’m going to let you talk to Alyssa,” he says, and I hear some muffled voices on the other end.

“Hi, Nick.”

Her bubbly voice despite the situation has me smothering a chuckle.

“Alyssa,” I drawl, allowing her name to hang in the air.

“Nick, listen, don’t be mad. I can explain,” she rushes out, not taking a breath between words. I can tell she’s had a bit to drink based on the semi-slurred words. “It’s just…I don’t think we should do this over the phone. Wait…” Her words trail off, and I’m about to speak when I hear the incoming request to switch to a video call.

Despite my better judgment, I accept the call and wait for a moment while the phone switches modes and Alyssa’s face pops up on the screen.

“Can I take this over there?” she asks Malone, but he’s too busy flirting with someone just out of my view to bother answering.

She walks out of earshot and takes a deep breath.

“What are you doing at the cemetery, Lyss? It’s midnight,” I say, shaking my head in exasperation.

“New Year rituals,” she says, as if that explains it. “Lanie had a dream. It’s a long story.”

I grunt, not at all surprised that a dream would have Lanie trespassing. “She could’ve gotten you arrested. You realize that, right?”

She nods her head. “It’s not Lanie’s fault entirely. I came freely of my own will.”

I smother a laugh, tilting my head. “Are you drunk?”

Her eyes widen, and her hand flies to cover her mouth. “No. I mean…I’ve had some champagne.”

My head falls back as I groan. “Alyssa. Not only is that trespassing, but it would also be drunk and disorderly.”

“Nick…there’s more, and you’re not going to like what I’m about to say,” she starts, and my eyes close.

“Go on. It’s been a long night.” I pull the phone away to hide a yawn.

I’m exhausted and in over my head with Chelsea’s investigation, with no leads to go on.

“Isla put your wedding ring in my purse so that she could attach herself to me.”

The blood rushes to my ears, and my head spins.

“She attached herself to you? With my ring?” I rub at my forehead.

“Yes, and she wanted me to take her to her grave to see if she could move on.”

I catch about every three words.

Isla.

Ring.

Grave.

Move on.

“Alyssa…please tell me you didn’t.”

My heart is pounding, attempting to dislodge from my chest. My vision swims with red, and I know that I’m moments away from lashing out, which I don’t want to do. I can’t process what she’s saying. Can’t think.

Every part of me is locked up, awaiting Alyssa’s unspoken words.

She wouldn’t do that, right?

She sighs heavily. “I didn’t. There was no way I was going to make that decision without you.”

The breath whooshes from me, and my hand flies to my chest, rubbing out the phantom pain. “Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me.”

Maybe she does. Having her own loss, she might be the only person who could ever understand.

“Nick, I—”

“Alyssa, it’s all good. We’ll talk about this more later.” I blow out a breath. “Can you give the phone back to Malone? Please?”

She swallows, bobbing her head. She calls for Malone, and he comes onto the screen, eyes animatedly wide.

“And now do you see why I called?”

I nod once. “Are any of them sober?”

“Yeah, the crazy-hot other brunette.”

“Corinne,” I say, shaking my head at my partner.

“She’s their DD.”

“Get them all in the car and follow them back to Alyssa’s. Make sure they’re in the house before you leave.”

“Roger.”

“And, Malone,” I say before he hangs up. “Thank you for calling.”

He nods once more before the call ends, leaving me reeling with all that’s just unfolded.

My respect and admiration for Alyssa just increased tenfold. The fact that she is willing to be stuck with Isla for my benefit is something I’ll never forget.

I groan, head tilting to the sky.

I’ve yet to completely come to terms with the fact that Isla stuck around. I’ve done my best to shove it as far from my mind as possible, because no matter how much I believe Alyssa, this is hard to swallow.

But I can’t dwell on any of that right now.

I have a dead girl on my hands and no suspects.

It’s going to be a long day.