Page 9 of A Charming Touch of Tarot (The Gin & Tarot Club #2)

9

Eight of Swords

Nick

I suck in a deep breath, taking in what Alyssa has just said. I can tell by the way she’s looking at me that she’s fearful I don’t believe her.

I do.

I know she wouldn’t claim this lightly. We’re talking about someone’s daughter, and Alyssa’s not the type of person to purposefully hurt others. However, it could be easy to mistake Chelsea for someone else. Especially considering that it doesn’t seem as though Alyssa knew her personally.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and clutches her elbow.

I lean forward, catching her gaze. “I believe you. I’m only making sure the ghost—or whatever you saw—was Chelsea. She’s my captain’s niece. It’s important that I get this right.”

She swallows, bobbing her head. “It was Chelsea. I saw her on Christmas Eve. Mrs. Fields did too.”

My mouth slams shut, head moving back slightly. “Mrs. Fields?”

“That’s why she was outside that night. She saw the girl staring at my house. She just didn’t realize she was a ghost.”

I place both hands on the counter, lowering my head. How the hell is Mrs. Fields seeing ghosts now? What’s happening in this town?

“This is not good,” I say, mostly to myself.

“No, it’s not. It’s a terrible tragedy.”

I rub at the back of my neck, the stress mounting with every minute that goes by. This is going to be a total fucking nightmare.

“I believe she was murdered,” Alyssa says, frowning.

My eyes widen, and my hands ball into fists. I’m not sure how my mind didn’t immediately go to murder. I suppose I was hoping it had something to do with drinking too much, which I’ve been told has been an issue for her.

“She’s shown up a few times, and the way she presents herself is very reminiscent of Jenna.”

I remain quiet, allowing her to explain further.

“It’s clear that she died in or was dumped into a body of water. Her hair is soaked and matted to her face.”

“Shit,” I curse under my breath. “Alyssa, this is a fucking mess for so many reasons.”

She grimaces.

“What else can you tell me?” I ask, opening a drawer and pulling out a notepad and pen.

I need to jot this all down so that later, I can review everything she’s said.

“Not much, honestly. Everything else would just be speculation.”

“Humor me?” I say, writing down the description she gave of Chelsea’s ghost.

“I believe she’s trying to communicate through the TV. She’ll turn to channels that show girls that resemble her leaving bars and being approached from behind. Whoever killed her was a stranger.”

My eyes close, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m not sure there’s anything I can do that won’t have the captain infuriated. You don’t go around claiming someone is dead without a body.

“I can’t take this to my captain. He won’t believe it.” I frown, apologetic that more people aren’t open-minded about her ability. “He’s not as receptive to things that can’t be explained by science.”

“I get it. You don’t have to apologize, Nick. I’m not sure I’d fully trust it if it weren’t happening to me.” She smiles, and I know it’s to ease my worry where her feelings are concerned. “So, what are you going to do with the information?”

I lick my bottom lip, peering up to the ceiling. “I’m going to call in a tip to Falls Haven PD. That’s where she’s been living and working and where she was last seen.”

“I don’t believe they took her far,” she says, eyes narrowing to mere slits. “I’d suggest looking at the docks.”

I grab my phone and make the call. It rings several times, and I’m just about to hang up and try again when a woman finally answers.

“Falls Haven PD.”

“Hi. This is detective Nick West of Knox Harbor investigative unit. I’ve gotten an anonymous tip for an unidentified missing female.”

“Go on,” she says, and I can hear her typing on the other end.

“The caller said to check the docks area for the missing person. They insinuated whoever she is, she’s deceased.”

“Did the caller give any additional details on the missing person?”

“No. They only said I should reach out to Falls Haven with the information. I was unable to trace the call, unfortunately,” I say, knowing that question was coming.

“I’ll send someone out to check the docks. Thank you, Detective.”

“Thank you.”

The line goes dead, and I wonder if the woman will actually send someone out. The tip was so anonymous and generic, and with it being New Year’s Eve, I’m sure they’re busy as hell.

“When her body is found, it’s going to send the captain into a tailspin. Especially with how busy we already are trying to tie up the Cruz case.” My head falls back. “I can’t imagine how hard this is going to be for her family.”

“It’s the worst possible thing that could ever happen to a parent. My worst nightmare.”

I wince, seeing the way Alyssa’s features are pinched. Even talking about this has her mind on Ava.

“It’s moments like these I’m happy to not have kids. I’d be a nervous wreck. I’m not sure how you do it, Alyssa,” I say, shaking my head.

“I won’t lie; it’s tough. Every time she walks out my door, I worry. Having her so far away makes it all the worse.” She shrugs. “But I wouldn’t change it for anything. She’s made life so much better.”

At one time I thought I’d have a whole houseful of kids. My life was mapped out with the white picket fence and Isla barefoot and pregnant. It wasn’t meant to be.

“I wanted kids back in the day,” I admit, catching Alyssa off guard, if her expression is any indicator. One eyebrow is lifted to the sky, and her mouth is gaped.

“Four boys and one little princess?” she says, and my head jerks back.

“What?”

She blinks several times, mouth opening and closing.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about what Garrett and I once discussed.”

My breath quickens and my palms sweat.

What she’s just said is exactly what Isla and I had talked about so many times. Down to the exact description. It was Isla’s dream to have a big family.

Alyssa lowers her head. “That is now out of the question. No more kids for me.” She doesn’t appear sad, more worried when she delivers this information.

Does she think that would change things for me?

I’m forty-five years old; my days of wanting kids are long past gone. If anything, what she’s said makes her even more perfect in my eyes. We’re on the same page.

Not that children or marriage is even a topic of discussion at this point, but if she were saying she wanted those things, this would be over before we got started. I can’t give her or anyone else kids. I took care of that right after Isla died. That would’ve been my life with Isla, but we were robbed of it, and I knew I wouldn’t want that with anyone else. Ever.

She’s chewing on her bottom lip, eyes misted.

“What’s that look for?” I ask, leaning toward her. “I’m okay with it. I didn’t really know how much time my work was going to eat up. I should’ve, considering my father was FBI, and I saw how much he worked.” I place a stack of pancakes on a plate and slide it over to Alyssa.

“Syrup is in the cupboard.” I jut my chin in the direction of said cupboard.

“I don’t know how some people do it. Garrett and I were a team, and I know I couldn’t have gotten through those early years with him gone a lot for work.”

“Exactly. It’s easy to create fairy tales until real life gets in the way. I would’ve hated leaving my family behind for work. Probably would’ve grown to despise it.” I chuckle. “Funny how life works out. I can’t imagine not being a detective. My work is so important to me.”

She tilts her head to the side, bobbing her chin. “Your life could look very different, that’s for sure.” She locates the syrup and places it on the counter between us.

“I likely would’ve gotten out of law enforcement and gone into sales or something like that.” I make a face, because the very idea of me wearing a suit and peddling products is utterly ridiculous. “I would’ve enjoyed my family but hated my work.” I place my hand over hers, looking into her eyes. “Life has a funny way of knowing what we need more than we do.”

My eyes bore into hers, and she flushes all over, eyelashes fluttering.

“I never would’ve thought I’d be standing in your kitchen. Not like this, that’s for sure. But here I am.”

I smile, walking around the counter, trapping her between my arms, leaning in. “Here you are.”

I brush my lips against hers, and she sighs into it. Something crashes behind us, and Alyssa’s head falls against my chest with a groan.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, pulling back to look into her eyes, momentarily forgetting about the noise.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that information.”

I frown. “Try me.”

She looks up, cheeks coloring a pretty shade of pink. “Can we not talk about ghosts for a little while?”

My eyes widen. “Is it Chelsea? Is she here?”

Alyssa swallows, head shaking back and forth slowly. “Someone else.” She sighs heavily. “I’ll tell you soon, but for today, can we just enjoy the pancakes?”

I grin. “Yes. We’re not letting perfectly good pancakes go to waste.”

She smiles, her face instantly relaxing.

Her phone dings, and I glance down at the counter to see Nina’s name lighting up the screen. She moves under my arm to grab her phone, and I take that opportunity to check my own.

I have a voice message from a number I don’t recognize.

“Nick? Nick West?” I recognize the voice, vaguely, but can’t place who the woman is. “Oh…sorry. Hi, Nick. This is your neighbor Patty Phillips. Could you give me a call, please?” She rattles off her number and I jot it down, realizing she’s the middle-aged mom of three who peddles popcorn through the neighborhood with a uniformed second-grader every year.

I chuckle to myself at Patty’s initial confusion. It’s not like my recording doesn’t make it clear that it’s my voicemail.

Moving toward my hallway, I give her a call while Alyssa is occupied. It rings twice before she answers.

“Hi, Mrs. Phillips. This is Nick West, calling you back.”

“Thank you for returning my call. I need your help. My Christmas sleigh, which I spent a lot of money on, was stolen from my front yard overnight.”

“Do you have a door cam? Any idea who might’ve done it?”

I’m not even sure why I’m asking. This isn’t my jurisdiction, and I’m off the clock. What I should do is give her the non-emergency number to the station and call it a day.

Old habits die hard, and one of mine is helping people even on my time off.

“Well…no. We don’t have a camera. But our neighbor does.”

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “I’d suggest stopping by and asking if they can check their footage. Regardless, you should contact the station and file a report.”

“Can’t you head over and ask for the footage?” Mrs. Phillips asks, sounding annoyed with me.

“I’m sorry. There’s not much I can do, honestly. I work in homicide.”

She prattles on about not having time and how it’s New Year’s and she has plans. I inhale and exhale, rubbing at the center of my forehead, allowing her to vent.

“Mrs. Phillips, I’ll stop by and see what I can do.”

Her tone immediately changes. “Bless you, Nick. Happy holidays.”

The line goes dead before I can respond.

“Happy holidays,” I say, putting the phone back on the counter.

“Everything okay?” Alyssa calls down the hall, and I head back toward her.

“Another neighbor had something stolen from their yard. I need to contact the PD and set up patrol for our street at night.”

“Yikes. I don’t love hearing that.”

“Thankfully, the thief hasn’t attempted to break in. It’s all been yard decorations taken. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Just take in anything you don’t want stolen.”

“I’ll do that.” She looks down at her phone, smiling wide.

“What are you smiling about?”

She lifts her head from her phone, placing it back on the quartz countertop.

“That was Nina,” she explains. “We planned a girls’ trip. We’re leaving Wednesday for a week.”

“Anywhere good?” I ask around a bite of pancake.

Alyssa’s eyes are fixed on my throat, and I have to smother the grin that wants to spread across my face, recognizing the heat in her eyes.

I clear my throat, and she tears her eyes away from my neck, cheeks turning a dark shade of pink as she looks anywhere but at me.

“Providence.”

I make a face, the word coming out of nowhere.

“That’s where we’re headed,” she says to clarify.

“That doesn’t sound like a fun getaway. It’s freezing there.” I take another bite of my pancakes.

“Let’s just say that it’s kind of like a job.”

I lift an eyebrow but don’t question her further. If she wants to tell me, she will.

“It’s Nina’s story to tell,” she explains. “But if she’s good with me sharing it with you, I will.” She searches my face, likely trying to determine if I’m insulted.

I’m not. I know the drill, and I can appreciate her loyalty to her friends. It’s an admirable quality. One that few people possess these days.

“Fair enough.”

She blows out a breath, looking relieved.

My eyes catch on the wall clock, seeing that it’s nearly noon. I need to run some errands before tonight, including to the dry cleaner to grab my suit. Thankfully, they’re open today until four, so I have some time.

“We’re still good for tonight, right?”

Her mouth forms an O. “Oh, shoot,” she says, and I tilt my head to the side.

“If you have other plans, it’s all good—”

She cuts me off. “Yes. I mean…no. I don’t have other plans. I want to spend New Year’s with you.”

“Why do I feel like you’re panicking?” I chuckle, watching as she looks at her phone.

“I don’t have anything to wear. I need to run to the mall today.” She stands, taking her plate to the sink.

“Leave it. I can clean up,” I say, knowing that she’s stressed.

I remember the days when Isla would act the same way, and it never failed—she always looked gorgeous. So will Alyssa. The woman could wear a paper bag and still manage to capture all my attention.

“Don’t go overboard. Be comfortable. I’ll like you in whatever you wear, Alyssa. I can promise you that.”

My eyes roam over her appreciatively. She must notice, because that flush spreads over her neck.

“While I appreciate that, I want to find something new,” she says, voice hoarse. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten dressed up and hit the town. I’m looking forward to it.”

I grin, standing to move toward her. “Me too,” I say, pulling her into me, leaning down to press my mouth against hers.

We’re tangled up in each other when I hear clapping and giggling.

Alyssa groans, pulling away.

“Did you hear that?” I ask, brows furrowed as my eyes scan the area. Based on Alyssa’s reaction, she did.

“Yes,” she says gruffly. “I told you. We aren’t alone.”

I stagger back, blinking in disbelief.

I heard that. I…heard a ghost.

My head shakes. “How did I…”

“Hear her?” Alyssa shrugs. “No clue. Have you noticed a presence here? Heard anything before?”

“No. I mean…” My head shakes. “No. I haven’t.”

She smashes her lips together. “Interesting.”

I take a deep breath, running my hands through my hair. “Who is it?”

Alyssa’s shoulders sag, and I can tell she doesn’t want to answer that. She pulls on her ear, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Alyssa,” I drawl, and she blows air out of her mouth, lips flapping.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, please.” She grimaces, crinkles forming around her eyes. “It’s Isla.”

The wind whooshes from my chest, and I feel lightheaded.

“Sit down,” she says, but I wave her off. “You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” I lie. “I just need a minute.”

Or a lifetime.

There’s no part of me that was prepared for Alyssa’s admission.

It can’t be Isla. There’s no way. I’d have known if she were here.

“Nick,” Alyssa begins, but stops, sighing heavily. “She’s been here the whole time, but I only just met her today.”

My head aches, and a million questions come to mind, but I can’t formulate a single word.

“She’s here because she wants to know you’re okay and that you’ll be happy.”

I swallow down the emotion swelling within. I’m not an overly sensitive man. I can handle crisis and tragedy like none other. I deal with it on the daily. But this…this is too much.

“I just need time,” I say, not knowing what else to say.

She nods. “Take as much time as you need. We’ll cancel tonight. I don’t need to—”

My head snaps up. “We’re not cancelling tonight, Alyssa. We’re going. I’m only asking for a couple hours to process this.”

I take a step toward her, grabbing her hand. “This is strange, but it isn’t your fault. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

The relief that washes over her face makes me feel for her. I can’t imagine how hard that was for her to tell me.

“Thank you, Nick.”

I pull her into a hug, hoping to help ease her further. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Without dropping her hand, I walk to the front of the house, opening the door and leaning against the frame, looking down at her. “I’m really looking forward to tonight.”

She smiles, leaning up on her toes and placing a quick kiss on my lips. “See you tonight.”

And with that, she’s bounding down the steps, heading toward her house. I watch her until she’s out of sight, not exactly thrilled to be headed back inside.

I’m not afraid of ghosts, and I’m certainly not afraid of Isla, but it’s like I said…strange. What do I do? Do I talk to her? Assure her I’m all right and she can move on?

Do I even want that?

Yes.

Isla deserves peace.

I start to shut the door, but stop, frowning.

Someone stole my damn wreath.