Tempest Court. Jan Walters

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ and watched Michael in the mirror. “So you decided to wait in my bedroom?”

      “Sonny, you’re agitating me.” He stomped out to the hallway. “I heard something and came to investigate.”

      Brett’s grin increased. “I think you just wanted to snoop around.”

      Michael felt his cheeks heat up. With a low growl, he pointed to the front door. “A package was delivered a while ago. It’s by the door.”

      Brett’s smile faded. “It’s probably the rug we bought in Morocco.”

      “A rug? What do you need a rug for?”

      “Lisa wanted it.” Brett quickly changed clothes and went to the door to collect the package.

      Brett brought the wrapped rug into the house and set it on the kitchen table. He just stared at the package rather than opening it. Michael’s brows drew together. Why didn’t Brett open the package? Michael stiffened when it emitted a faint vibration sound.

      “Something is going on with that rug of yours.”

      Brett’s green eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

      “There’s a strange sound coming from it.”

      Brett leaned down, pressing his ear to the paper wrapping. After several moments, he shook his head. “I think you’re imagining things.”

      Michael might be dead, but he wasn’t deaf. He knew what he heard. “Whatever!” With a flip of his hand, he went to grab his hat.

      “Michael, wait.” Brett rushed after him.

      Michael grabbed his fedora and slapped it on his head. “What for?” he mumbled.

      “I haven’t seen you in weeks. Lisa will be home any minute. Let’s sit down and catch up.”

      Michael forced a smile. “Okay. For the record, I did hear something. Aren’t you going to open it up and see what’s making that sound?”

      Brett shrugged. “Later. Let me put this in the closet and then we can visit. I want to know what you’ve been up to.”

      With his hands on his hips, Michael cocked his head. “Fine. I’m going on the record that I think you’re making a mistake.”

      Before Brett could respond, the back door opened. Lisa called out, “I’m home.”

      “In the kitchen. Guess who’s here?” Brett turned toward Michael.

      Lisa entered the room and shrieked. She ran to Michael and hugged him. “Michael! I’m so glad you’re back.”

      Michael pressed a kiss on her cheek. “I missed you guys. Let’s sit down so you can fill me in on your vacation.” He tossed the hat back on the table and watched them pop open a couple of beers, probably to torture him. Michael scowled at them.

      Lisa tossed her coat aside and grabbed her computer. With her laptop in front of him, they proceeded to scroll through hundreds of pictures. Michael’s eyes widened as he stared at the images of northern Africa.

      Several empty beer bottles later, Lisa clicked off the computer.

      He slapped his palm on the table. “I’m officially jealous. I’m glad you two got to see that part of the world. I wish I could have joined you.”

      Brett patted Michael on the shoulder. “I know, but you’ve seen some unbelievable things yourself.”

      He fought back a smile. “If you mean scary things, those don’t count.”

      “No. I’m talking about the Big Guy, angels, and afterlife stuff.”

      Michael rose and stretched. “I could write a book about the afterlife. Let me tell you, those guys up there are sticklers for rules.” Adjusting his hat, he walked to the doorway, not that he was leaving through the door. “On that note, I’m out of here. See you two soon.”

      With a whiff of air, Michael vaporized and disappeared. As he drifted in the darkness of space and time, he continued to think about Brett’s package. It perplexed him. Brett didn’t even seem curious about the darn package, which irritated Michael. Even though Brett hadn’t heard a noise, Michael knew something was off. From his experience, he knew unsolved puzzles were an invitation to trouble. He hoped whatever was going on, it wouldn’t end up biting them in the ass.

      Chapter 5

      Brett entered roll call the next morning and abruptly skidded to a stop. Former Sergeant George Taylor stood near the front of the room. What the hell is that asshole doing here? The last that he knew, Taylor had been demoted to a patrolman and stuck filing reports so someone could keep a close eye on him.

      Taylor and the previous police chief were involved in a scam involving money laundering and who knows what else. When the FBI closed in, Taylor turned witness and ended up testifying for the Feds. The greasy little weasel got off scot-free as far as Brett was concerned.

      Taylor’s eyes narrowed when he spotted Brett glaring at him. Taylor’s light brown hair had turned to gray. He still combed his thin hair over to cover a bald spot. The combed hair glistened from some hair goop in the harsh overhead lighting. A hurricane couldn’t move that hair.

      Brett slid into a chair, and Randall plopped next to him.

      “O’Shea. Who’s the new guy up front?” Randall whispered.

      Brett’s eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t feel like talking to Randall. “Taylor.”

      Randall looked at Taylor and then turned back to him.

      “What’s his story?”

      Brett’s fingers clenched. “I’m not Wikipedia.”

      Randall’s soft chuckle drew looks from other officers.

      “Funny. I saw you staring at Taylor just a moment ago.” Randall paused, lowering his voice even more. “I take it you don’t like him much.”

      Brett turned sideways in his chair, so his back was to Taylor, but he was facing Randall. “You’re right. My advice is to never turn your back on him.”

      “Shit. That sounds ominous.”

      “Okay, let’s drop it.” Brett swung around and faced the front of the room. Now wasn’t the time nor the place to discuss Taylor.

      After roll call, Brett took the stairs two at a time to his office. He closed the door and walked to the window overlooking the Des Moines River. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass and closed his eyes. Seeing Taylor brought back memories—bad memories. Taylor had been jealous: jealous because Brett had been quickly promoted to detective and had solved a significant murder investigation; jealous because he and Anders were friends. Bottom line, Taylor didn’t care for Brett and vice versa.

      Someone pounded on his door. He straightened and turned.

      “Yeah.”

      Marge СКАЧАТЬ