Nearly Departed (Spring Cleaning Mysteries) (26 page)

"
She shouldn't have done that." He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

I got the impression he wasn
't talking about the stuffed animal. Risking a quick glance at his face, I saw that his jaw was clenched. My stomach flip-flopped nervously. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was upset. "It was no big deal," I assured him.

"
You can't mention Angel to anyone, especially not Bernie."

I wondered if he worried that people would think Halley was crazy if they found out she talked to imaginary friends/ghosts.
"Okay."

Stopping at a red light, Smoke threw the Jeep into
park, twisted in his seat, and leaned toward me. "Promise me you won't ever mention Angel's name to anyone."

I blinked.
"Why not?"

"
Promise me!"

I stared at him. He looked…panicked.

"Okay. Okay. I promise."

He sank back into his seat and closed his eyes. The car behind us honked when the light turned green. Smoke didn
't react. "Smoke?" I asked tentatively.

He opened his eyes, shifted the vehicle into gear, and started to drive without responding to me. We drove the rest of the way to the tire place in complete silence. He didn
't even say anything when I got out and said, "Thanks for the ride."

I wasn
't sure if he'd even be there when I re-emerged having paid the bill for the replacement tires, but there he was, idling beside the Spring Cleaning van.

I waved at him as I hurried over to it. His response was the briefest of nods. I wished I
'd never opened my big mouth and mentioned Angel, but I'd been curious about the little girl.

I drove over to the frat boy
's house, Smoke tailing me, with the sinking feeling it was going to be a tough day.

And that was before we unlocked the front door of the house
.

"Holy Hell."

I tried to peer around Smoke to see what had elicited that reaction, but he pushed me behind him.
"What—?

"
Shhh!" He quickly yanked the door shut, making sure not to make any noise doing so. "Go wait in the van." He shooed me away.

I held my ground.
"This is my job site. I have a right to know what's going on."

"
Somebody's been inside."

"
How do you know that? You couldn't even see past the foyer."

Grabbing my upper arm, he marched me down the steps, across the street to the van.

"Let go of me." I pulled free of his grip.

"
I'm trying to help you here, Tori."

"
By manhandling me?"

"
I wasn't—"

"
Yes you were. You practically dragged me over here like some kind of deranged caveman."

"
I didn't…they could still be inside. I was just trying to keep you safe, but as usual, you preferred to argue instead of doing what I asked."

"
They who?" I wanted to know.

"
Whoever trashed the place."

I leaned back weakly against the van.
"It's trashed?"

He nodded.
"Now will you stay here and let me go check it out?"

"
No."

His eyes widened.
"No?"

I shook my head.
"We're calling the police. The last thing you need is someone accusing you of tampering with the scene."

He stared at me for a long moment
, and I braced myself for another battle. Finally he said, "You're right."

"
That happens occasionally." I reached for my phone.

Before I could dial, Smoke covered it with his hand.
"If there's any way you can avoid telling them about Bernie…"

"
Why?"

"
Because I asked?"

Yanking the phone away from him, I raised it to my ear.
"You want me to lie to the police because you asked me to?"

Spinning away, he rubbed the back of his neck
, signaling his agitation. "I don't want you to lie to them…I'm just…requesting that you not bring it up unless you're directly asked."

I hesitated.

Turning around, he said quietly, "Please, Tori. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

"
I don't understand."

"
I wish I could explain, but I can't."

I believed him.
"Why?"

"
Would you believe me if I told you it was for your own protection?" He was so earnest, so desperate for me to have faith in him, that I did.

"
I still don't understand," I said slowly, "but I won't bring Bernie up."

"
Thank you."

I never had to call the police because Detective Barbie pulled up in a late model Mercedes at that moment.
"Hey, partner!"

Once again, I saw that odd flicker of some emotion I couldn
't put my finger on in Smoke's eyes. I wondered if maybe he was more hung up on her than she obviously was on him. The thought soured my stomach. Then he blinked, and whatever I'd glimpsed was gone.

"
Lacey!" He smiled at her.

Considering that all he
'd done for the past hour was frown at me for one thing or another, I thought the stab of jealousy I felt was perfectly reasonable.

"
Everything okay?" Lacey asked. "You two looked pretty intense."

"
We were just…" Smoke began.

"
Arguing about whether to call you," I said.

"
Me?" Lacey asked, surprised.

"
Not you specifically," I hurried to correct. "The police."

She looked to Smoke for clarification.

"Someone trashed it," he said, jutting his chin toward the house.

That
's when I noticed that Martin was out on the stoop alternately pointing at the detective and flashing those numbers with his fingers.

"
Hang on a sec." Lacey parked her car a bit farther down the street.

I looked from him to the detective wondering why he only held up numbers when she was around. I looked at her license plate, but it didn
't contain any numbers, just letters. WNDRWMN

"
This is Reed's case," I reminded Smoke as we waited for Wonder Woman to walk back to us.

"
And she's here," Smoke pointed out.

"
Convenient," I muttered.

Smoke arched an eyebrow but didn
't say anything.

"
Have you gone inside?" Lacey asked.

"
Opened the door, saw the damage, and backed out," Smoke said.

"
Okay. You and I will go in. Miss Spring you'll wait here," Lacey ordered. "Okay?"

I didn
't bother to answer. I just got into the van. If Martin wasn't signaling that there was someone inside the house, I didn't give a damn who went and checked it out. I expected the ghost to come try to talk to me, but instead he trailed after Smoke and Lacey.

I pulled out my phone and called Detective Alan Reed. He
'd treated Smoke fairly the day before, and I thought he deserved to be kept in the loop. I left him a message letting him know what was going on, including Detective Halperin's inspection of the place.

I dove into my supply of black jelly beans while I waited for Smoke to return.

Lacey was smiling when she and Smoke, with Martin hovering practically on top of them, came out of the house. Smoke's expression was grim. He looked at my bag of candy but wouldn't look me in the eye.

I climbed out of the van and met them in the middle of the street.
"How bad is it?"

Smoke didn
't answer.

"
It looks like some kids got inside and made a mess of it," Lacey said. "I'll write it up, but I wouldn't worry."

"
How bad?" I asked again.

Smoke looked away.

My stomach lurched nervously, and I stalked toward the house.

"
Wait!" Smoke called after me.

I ignored him the way he
'd ignored my question. I had to see what the damage was with my own eyes.

I heard him say,
"Thanks, Lacey."

I
'd reached the stairs when I heard his footsteps gaining on me. I rushed up the stairs and pushed the door open before he could catch up.

Everything in the place had been overturned. Furniture, my equipment, and the boys
' belongings were strewn together in a chaotic mess. I stumbled through the downstairs. Each room was worse than the last.

A sinking feeling filled me. There was no way I
'd be able to finish this job on time.

Martin popped into the kitchen as I was eyeing the toppled refrigerator and the beer that had leaked all over the floor. Remembering how he
'd slammed all the doors in the place when I'd told him I couldn't help him, I turned on him. "Did you do this?"

He blinked his surprise.

"Did you do this?" I shrieked, thoroughly fed up with men who didn't answer my questions. "Did you do this?"

I was distantly aware that I sounded exactly like Mom had when Spot, the
seeing-eye dog, had done his business right in the middle of her brand new white carpet…more than a little insane. I mean who else would have been stupid or brazen enough to shit on a rug?

I glared at Martin waiting for an answer.

He shook his head.

Behind me, Smoke cleared his throat.

I pretended he wasn't there.

"
Who are you talking to?"

I ignored him.

I heard him step closer, but I kept my gaze on Martin. "Did kids do this?"

Martin shook his head.

"That's what Lacey thinks," Smoke said from behind me.

I turned on him.
"And what do you think? Or do you just think what she tells you to?"

He raised his hands defensively.
"I understand you're upset."

"
You understand?" I shouted. "Look at this place. It's a disaster!"

"
We'll get this cleaned up."

"
It's so much. I'm so tired. I…" I trailed off, a lump rising in my throat. I spun away as my vision blurred with tears. I would have fallen, tripping over the debris on the floor, if Smoke hadn't caught me to him.

"
It's going to be okay," he whispered.

It felt good to let him support me for a moment. It had been a long time since I
'd had to anyone to lean on.

"
It wasn't kids," I whispered back.

"
I don't think so either."

"
Everything is such a mess." I pulled away. "The house. The job. The secrets."

"
What secrets?"

"
Your secrets!" I stared up at him, trying to find the answers I was looking for in his face. His gaze was stormy and conflicted. He opened his mouth and then closed it, as though he'd thought better of saying anything.

Frustrated by his lack of communication, I shook my head.

"I'm sorry. I can't…" he whispered.

"
You won't!"

There was a long pause. For a moment, I hoped he might relent.

Then he firmly put me away from him. "I'll help you clean this all up."

"
It's not this mess I'm worried about," I confessed. "I still have to figure out who killed the boys or why poor Martin was framed for it."

"
Are you out of your mind?" Smoke grabbed my arm and spun me around. "Your tires have been slashed, you've been threatened, and the place has been trashed. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

He shook me as he spoke
, as though he was trying to shake sense into me.

"
I have to do this," I said.

"
Why?"

"
Because his family needs to know what happened, and he deserves justice."

"
Knowing and 'justice' are highly overrated." The bitterness in his tone sent a chill through me. "They're not worth dying over."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Martin hovering hopefully.