Page 8 of Deadly Deception (Necromancer Tales #2)

Chapter

Eight

Franklin

I woke needing another shower. Erasmus and I’d both fallen asleep before we had a chance to clean up. My bladder screamed that I hadn’t woken to relieve it during the night. Easing out from Boone’s octopus grip, I hurried to the bathroom, took care of business, and took a quick shower. When I walked out of the bathroom, Boone was sitting up in bed, his hair a discordant riot after going to bed with it wet.

“What time is it?” Boone asked on a wide yawn. Rubbing his eyes and getting his fingers helplessly tangled in his haphazard hair, my heart swelled with affection. Boone was sexy as fuck. He was also hopelessly cute this morning. It made for a lethal combination. Or at least a nonproductive combination, because all I wanted to do was climb back into bed and mess him up further.

My phone chimed with a text, pulling me from my salacious thoughts. When I checked the message, I found more than one and figured my phone had beeped with several reminders.

“I think that’s what woke me,” Boone said while absently scratching at his chest. “Is it from Tompkins or Henson?”

“Tompkins and Nana.”

“Your nana?” Boone asked with a note of concern. He’d been trying to hide his anxiety regarding meeting my family, but I knew it worried him.

“I forgot to call her last night,” I answered sheepishly. “When we arrived yesterday, I texted Nana and told her I’d call later to let her know when to expect a visit.”

“Is she upset?”

I reread her message and felt my heart sink. “I think the word would be disappointed.”

“Ouch.” Boone flinched visibly. “That is so much worse than angry.”

“No argument here. Tompkins asked if we can meet back at the sheriff’s office at ten.” I glanced at the clock on the nightstand and noted it was a little after eight. “Are you good with that?”

“Fine. That will give us time to get some breakfast. Do you think they have one of those make-your-own waffle things?” Boone asked as he slid out from under the covers, his naked legs pale against the white sheets. “Thanks for keeping it toasty in the room,” Boone said. I’d set the thermostat higher than typical in deference to his cold intolerance.

“Not a problem,” I answered even though I’d woken up sweaty. “Why don’t you get ready to go to breakfast while I give Nana a call?”

After gathering his clothes, Boone placed his palm on my shoulder and said, “I recommend opening with an apology and heading straight to groveling. That typically works with Momma, unless I’ve done something truly worrisome.”

I wanted to ask, Like getting kidnapped by a serial killer and nearly dying? but held my tongue. I didn’t think there would ever be a time when thinking Boone’s kidnapping would be joking material.

The sound of the shower turning on pulled me from memories of Boone’s beaten and brutalized body lying in that cold basement. With a shudder I sent Tompkins a quick text confirming that Boone and I would be there before I pulled up Nana’s phone number and hit send. Nana answered right before it went to voicemail.

“Franklin,” Nana answered, her tone even.

“Hey, Nana.” Going with Boone’s wise advice, I said, “I’m sorry I forgot to call last night. My only excuse is that Boone and I were exhausted.” I think Aurelia’s impromptu visit along with her unexpected plus-one had more to do with derailing my mind, but I didn’t want to get into all things Aurelia with Nana. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

“It’s fine. I understand this trip isn’t merely a social visit. Although it would be nice if that were the case.” It was a subtle admonishment. I was horrible about visiting. I often said I was too busy, and while that was true, if I put in a bit more effort, returning to the Chicago area more often wouldn’t be that difficult.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized again.

Nana huffed. “Twice is more than enough, Franklin. You need to live your own life. I may not like that you live so far away, but I understand it. Knowing you’re happy outweighs everything else.”

My chest eased, as did my tense muscles. “Thanks, Nana. I really do want to see you, and I want you to meet Boone.”

“You better bring that boy by. If you leave the area without introducing us, I won’t be so forgiving,” Nana chastised.

“We’re definitely making time. We have to meet up with the LaPorte County Sheriff’s Office at ten. I think it’s optimistic to think today will go quickly.” I had no idea if there really was a body, and if so, where it was. There was a good chance Boone and I’d be pounding the pavement all day and have nothing to show for it come nightfall.

“LaPorte? You’re not in Chicago?”

“No, but close. It won’t take us long to get to you.”

“If you’re certain.”

“Positive,” I answered easily. The truth was, I wanted to see Nana too. Maybe not as much as she wanted to see me, but close. I also really wanted her to meet Boone. Something in my bones told me this was it, that Boone was my forever. I’d learned a long time ago to trust my instincts and had no desire to argue with them now. Besides Boone, Nana was the most important person in my life.

“I’ll call you later today, and this time I won’t forget,” I promised, hoping I didn’t break my word.

Nana blew out a deep breath. “Despite what I said earlier, if it doesn’t work out, I understand.”

“Nana, I—”

“I do understand, Franklin. Just be careful out there. Your job worries me.”

I felt a pang of regret and said, “I’m sorry, Nana. I don’t mean to worry you.”

“I know that, and I already told you to stop apologizing. That makes three times and that is far too often. Be safe and call when you can. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I answered easily before ending the call. I was still staring at my dark screen when Boone opened the bathroom door, his body surrounded by a warm fog.

“Everything okay?” Boone worriedly asked.

“It’s fine,” I answered and hoped I wasn’t lying. “Let’s get you some waffles.”

“ I think I’ve gained ten pounds between last night’s pizza and the waffles this morning.” Boone patted his belly. It was impossible to see him below the puffy parka he’d purchased last evening. It was probably a size too big and thicker than the natives in the area would wear given the current temperature. They’d reserve coats like this for after Christmas. Boone looked ridiculous in the most endearing way possible. He also looked warm and toasty.

“You’ll probably walk it all off today.” I was glad I’d brought comfortable shoes and even happier I’d insisted Boone pack his hiking boots.

“Don’t remind me,” Boone lamented. “Remember when you said you’d roll me around last night? Is that offer still on the table?” I thought Boone was only half teasing.

I chuckled. “I don’t think you’ll want to do a lot of rolling around on the streets we’ll be walking.” I recognized the area where Navarre had been picked up and suspected today could be dicey. I hoped Sheriff Henson planned on sending a couple boys or girls in blue with us.

We arrived at the sheriff’s office and headed inside. Tompkins was already there, leaning against the front desk and speaking with his niece, Sara. I hadn’t gotten a chance to berate him yesterday for promising Henson Boone’s services before asking Boone himself if that was okay. Boone had a big heart and inevitably erred on the side of being helpful, even to his own detriment. That didn’t mean others should take advantage of him. Right or wrong, I was beginning to view it as my job to run emotional interference.

“Tompkins,” I greeted while holding out my hand. Tompkins shook it, and I immediately turned to Sara and offered the same greeting. Boone stood by my side and offered his own verbal greetings, but didn’t offer a handshake.

I looked around the quiet lobby and asked, “Is Sheriff Henson in?”

“He’s in his office,” Sara answered. “I can’t say that a night of sleep made him any less prickly.”

“Maybe he didn’t sleep well,” Boone posited.

I had no idea and cared even less.

“Ah, the gang’s all here,” Sheriff Henson said as he walked down the hall and toward the lobby. He still smelled heavily of aftershave, the scent hitting me nearly before his voice. Henson didn’t take us to his office. The lobby was clear enough that he said, “I’m not sure how you plan on finding our victim, and honestly, I don’t care to know.” Henson held up his hands, palms out, and glowered Boone’s direction. “I’m sending Officer Witkowski with you today. I’m not holding out a lot of hope for this plan, but if by some miracle it works, you don’t touch anything.” Henson pointed his finger at my chest.

Feathers ruffled, I said, “I’ve worked homicide for over ten years. I believe I know how to work a scene.”

“I’m not saying you don’t. What I am saying is that you don’t have jurisdiction here, and I don’t want a technicality screwing up this case anymore than it is already.” I didn’t think the case was so much screwed up as complicated, but I kept that thought to myself. “If you do find anything, you let Officer Witkowski take over and you get out of his way. Got it?”

“Got it,” Boone quipped back with an exaggerated two-finger salute. “We will be good as gold,” Boone promised with an obscenely wide, fake smile.

Unimpressed, Henson rubbed his hands up and down his face and mumbled, “God help us,” before hollering, “Witkowski, you’re up.” With that, Sheriff Henson appeared to be done with us. He walked back down the hall, and we all heard the slam of his door.

“He’s not as bad as all that,” Tompkins offered. “I’ve known Alfonse for over two decades. He’s got his faults, but at the end of the day, he’ll value the truth over his own prejudices.”

“I suppose that’s something,” Boone answered as we waited for Officer Witkowski to rise from his desk, grab his coat, and head our direction.

“You folks ready to head out?” Witkowski asked.

“As ready as we’re going to be. Lead the way,” Boone answered.

I noticed Tompkins didn’t follow and turned to ask, “Aren’t you coming?”

Tompkins shook his head. “With my shitty back, I’d just slow you down. I’m going to visit with Sara a bit longer and then go home.”

I wondered why Tompkins had made the effort to show up at all but figured he wanted to make certain Henson followed up on his word. Either that, or he simply enjoyed visiting with his niece.

“I’ll see you later,” Tompkins promised before turning his back on us, dismissing me from view.

“We’ll take the cruiser,” Witkowski said as I caught back up with him and Boone. “I hope you don’t mind riding in the back. I promise not to lock you in,” Witkowski joked.

I noticed Boone remained silent and wondered if he really was afraid of riding in the back seat where criminals were shackled and kept apart from general society.

We reached the cruiser, and I climbed in the back seat with Boone. The faint smile and relieved expression told me I’d made the right decision, not that I’d considered leaving him back there by himself.

Witkowski pulled out of the parking lot and headed downtown. He was silent for a moment before our driver said, “I actually volunteered to chaperone.”

Boone perked up and asked “Really? Why?” Boone glanced my direction, but I didn’t know any more than him and shrugged. Witkowski had acted more interested than afraid while he’d been in the interview room with Navarre. Maybe he was curious. Turns out, I was right.

“I’m not sure. Curiosity, I suppose.” Witkowski glanced at us in the review mirror. “I should probably apologize in advance for the ignorant shit I’ll probably say today.”

Boone leaned into me, relaxing a fraction. “Advance apology accepted.” He sounded relieved, and I made a mental note to try and thank Witkowski privately later.

Boone’s relaxed state didn’t last long. The closer we got to where Navarre had been picked up, the tenser Boone became. He was distracted and kept glancing out the car windows. Boone twisted the edge of his coat with the fingers on one hand and rubbed his temples with the other.

Leaning toward him, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

Boone shook his head, his lips had thinned to the point of appearing ghostly pale. “I think this is going to be harder than I thought.” Swallowing hard, Boone’s bright green eyes looked up at me and said, “There are a lot of bodies out there, Franklin.”

“Define a lot.”

Boone’s eyes scrunched and he shook his head. “It’s like a cemetery. And on a scale of one to ten, this one’s a level eight, maybe nine. There’s a lot of noise, none of it happy or content.”

“Well, shit.”

“Yeah. It’s going to be a long day. How much candy did you bring?”

I felt around in my pockets and answered, “Probably not enough.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”