Page 20 of Deadly Deception
“I’ll be fine. I’m just a little stiff after folding my body into that tiny airplane seat.”
I grinned at the memory, a small chuckle slipping free. That chuckle faded quickly as Franklin pulled off at an exit and headed for a big box store. With a sigh, I asked “Are you sure we need to buy me a coat?”
Franklin parked the SUV, turned off the engine, and then gave me his full attention. “I know you said to forget about Sheriff Henson, but you and I both know what searching for the missing body is going to entail tomorrow.”
It was my turn to lean against the headrest. “Yeah. A lot of walking.”
“Most likely in not-so-savory neighborhoods. We’ll both be exposed to the elements. I’ve been gone from the Chicago area long enough that this weather feels chilly to me. I can’t imagine what it feels like to your Southern blood.”
I chuckled. “Fucking cold is what it feels like.”
“That’s what I thought.” Franklin opened his door and said “Come on. The sooner we start, the sooner we’re done.”
“And then we can grab some food and find a hotel?” I asked hopefully.
“Sounds like an acceptable schedule,” Franklin replied while slinging his arm over my shoulder and pulling me close, sharing his heat.
Igrabbed another piece of cheese pizza, taking a bite out of the tip. Franklin was halfway through his third piece of meat lover’s. We’d gone half and half. I typically ate just as much as Franklin, despite my smaller size—especially if I’d recently used my necromancer abilities.
“This is good,” I said for the fourth, maybe fifth time. The words came out garbled as I continued chewing while singing the pizza’s praises.
“It is. I’ve missed Chicago-style pizza.”
I could easily understand why. Deep dish pizza held appeal. I finished off my latest piece and eyed the remainder. “I could probably polish that off, but I don’t think I’d be able to move after.”
“I can roll you around,” Franklin offered gamely.
I frowned while contemplating the image of Franklin rolling me across the bed and around on the floor. It was a decidedly unsexy image. “I think I’ll take a pass on that very kind and understanding offer.”
Leaning against the bed frame, I settled my palm on my full belly. It was only a little after eight p.m. and I doubted I’d stay awake until nine. With a wide yawn, I allowed my eyes to slip closed and gave a contented sigh.
“You want to take a shower before you pass out?” Franklin asked.
I frowned. I’d rest easier and wake up happier if I took a shower, but the thought of getting up right now was horrid. “I’m happy where I am.”
“Not what I asked.” Franklin sounded distinctly amused. “I can always help you get undressed. I can even get in and make sure you wash every—Jesus!”
My eyes instantly snapped open as I sat forward. My fingers flew to the side table and the charms I’d dumped on the surface. Heart racing, I pulled my hand back, tangling my fingers in my hair as I released a tension-filled breath. “Aurelia. We really need to revisit that bell concept.”
“I am not wearing a bell for your pleasure,” Aurelia stated flatly, making me feel all kinds of icky.
“Who said anything about pleasure?” Franklin asked, showing we were on the same ick-factor page. “It’s just so I don’t have a heart attack.”
Aurelia ignored him in favor of looking around our hotel room. It was nice, but not ostentatious. Pops would have thought it functional but woefully lacking. I wasn’t Pops and thought the double queen-sized beds with their plush white linens and thick comforters were more than adequate. Plus, there was a free continental breakfast included. Call me content.
“Why are you here?” Aurelia asked after she’d scanned the small room.
I wanted to askwhy areyouhere?but didn’t. I’d learned that was often a futile road to traverse. Instead, I gave Aurelia the quick and dirty rundown. As I spoke, I noticed something different in Aurelia’s attire and asked, “Are you wearing a backpack?” And if she was, why?
Aurelia’s typically blank facial façade pinched in what I thought might be agitation but wasn’t certain. When she didn’t answer immediately, Franklin leaned to the side so he could peer at Aurelia’s back. Franklin’s eyes widened before narrowing inconfusion. “Is there a dome on the back?” He sat back up and looked at me while asking, “Why would a backpack have a clear dome, like a bubble?”
As if it had been waiting on the proper cue, a plaintivemewfollowed by the sound of scratching echoed from behind Aurelia.
“What the…?” Fatigue forgotten, I slid from the bed and walked around Aurelia. She didn’t try and stop me, nor did she turn to hide whatever she had tucked away back there.
I stood, staring perplexedly at the small furball furiously pawing at the clear plastic covering curved outward like a dome. My lips parted and I think I tried speaking at least twice before I finally managed an accusatory, “Is that a kitten?” It was an absurd question, not because I was wrong, but because the little ball of black and white fluff was definitely a kitten. “Why do you have a kitten…? In a backpack…?” There were more questions that needed to be verbalized, and yet I couldn’t get past those first two.
Slipping the backpack from her shoulders, Aurelia set it on the bed, unzipped the top, and pulled the kitten out roughly, dumping it on the bed unceremoniously. The kitten immediately darted toward the pizza remains, clamped onto a piece of crust, and hauled its booty off the bed, across the floor, and under a nearby chair. The sounds it made while chowing down were desperately obscene. I had no doubt that trying to take the crust from the kitten would result in the loss of a finger or two.
