Read The Root of All Trouble Online

Authors: Heather Webber

The Root of All Trouble (11 page)

Kit gave her a death stare. It was almost as good as the Ceceri Evil Eye, but not quite, which probably explained why she wasn
't affected by the look at all. She'd built up immunity to evil eyes over the years, thanks to my mother glaring at her all the time.

She smiled fondly at him.

"Fine," he ground out, recognizing a losing battle when he saw one. "I'll do it." He turned and strode off.

Ana winked at me.
"I'll see you later."

"
I owe you."

"
I know."

As she skipped to catch up to Kit, a sedan pulled up across the street.

A sedan that belonged to the coroner's office.

And if I didn
't know better, I'd have sworn a ghost was driving.

Chapter Ten

 

 

I
kept peeking out the window at the coroner's investigator—Cain Monahan—as he walked around Mario and Perry's yard.

The hair on the back of my neck refused to go down. He was a dead ringer for...well, a dead man.

"Who's he?" Mr. Cabrera asked, coming up behind me. He'd yet to go home, and I had the feeling he was dreading seeing the place after Brickhouse had packed up and moved out.

"
He works for the coroner's office."

"
What's he doing here? I thought there was an arrest?"

"
Maybe the coroner found something in the autopsy that proves Delphine didn't kill Joey."

"
Pah, she's guilty."

I lifted an eyebrow.
"How do you know?"

"
After what he did to her? Having a wife and all? Just makes sense. Plus, she's a little scary. I'm not convinced that her family doesn't have ties to the underworld, if you know what I'm saying."

I knew what he was saying. The Reauxs came from a long line of criminals. How deep the felonious activity went, I wasn
't sure. Despite what Jean-Claude said, did it extend to murder?

"
Jean-Claude says his family is full of lovers not fighters."

Mr. Cabrera shrugged.
"There's not a crime of passion defense for nothing."

True. Once, right after I discovered Kevin had been cheating on me with his partner, Ginger, I
'd attacked him with a hockey stick thinking he was an intruder. And when I realized he wasn't, it had taken everything in me to stop hitting him with that stick (after a few additional whacks for good measure). Karma had bit Kevin in the backside big time when it came to Ginger, and ultimately I had forgiven him. But for a while, I'd wanted to kill him. Fortunately, I had enough sense not to act on my emotions.

Mr. Cabrera nodded outside.
"Maybe you should go over there and feel him out."

"
Why don't you go over there?" I was hesitant to see the ghost face to face, and I couldn't quite put my finger on why.

Maybe it was because Seth Thiessen had been my first crush, and I
'd been devastated by his death.

His whole family—he, his mother, father, and younger sister—had died when the small plane his father was piloting exploded over a Kentucky horse ranch on the way to spring break in Florida. Seth had been fifteen years old.

I suspected I didn't want to meet this investigator because of his resemblance to Seth. I wasn't sure I could bear the emotional fallout. "You're good at getting information out of people," I said, pressuring Mr. Cabrera. Because as much as I didn't want to be the one weaseling the info, I wanted to know if there had been a change in the case.

Mr. Cabrera held his stomach.
"That's true. But I don't feel so good. Plus, you're prettier than I am. He'll be more likely to talk to you, especially if you fluff yourself up a bit."

"
Fluff myself up a bit?"

"
You know," he waved his hand. "Do your hair up, put on some mascara. You clean up good, Miz Quinn. When you clean up. Which, I might add, isn't often. You might have more dates if you did a little more fluff—"

I cut him off.
"Maybe you should head home and go back to bed. Since you're not feeling so well."

He pouted.
"Your couch is comfier than mine."

"
Mr. Cabrera..."

"
Uhn," he groaned and dashed for the bathroom.

I was beginning to think that he wasn
't as sick as he was portraying himself to be. At this point, his hangover had become an avoidance technique.

Pulling aside the curtain, I peeked out again. The investigator was walking slowly around the yard as if looking for something.

Before I could change my mind, I slipped on my flip-flops, pulled open the door, and headed across the street.

My heart pounded the closer I drew to him, and my feet felt leaden, weighted to the ground.

I stumbled over a twig and his head snapped up as I bobbled for equilibrium.

The sun glinted off his sunglasses and I wished I could see his eyes as
I approached. Seth had the most gorgeous brown eyes I'd ever seen. A dark chocolate with flecks of gold that always reminded me of Eastertime with chocolate bunnies packaged in gold foil. If I could only see this man's eyes, I could put my ghostly imaginations to rest.

"
You okay?" he asked.

Heat flooded my neck, my cheeks. Lamely, I gestured to the ground.
"Yeah. I tripped on a twig. Plus I have two left feet. The combination isn't pretty," I rambled.

He nodded.

I brushed the hair out of my eyes and couldn't help but study him like he was an amoeba under a microscope. The first thing my gaze settled on was the deep scarring that covered the right side of his neck, fading into the hair behind his ear.

To my untrained eye, it looked like a burn scar.

My stomach tightened. Seth Thiessen had died in a fiery plane crash.

The man
's jaw was a little more square than Seth's, and he was a little taller. But those differences could be attributed to age. It had been almost twenty years since Seth died.

"
Car accident," he said.

I snapped to.
"What?"

"
The scars. I was in a car accident. It's easier just to tell people than to have them stare."

I felt a stab of guilt.
"Sorry."

He
'd been in a car accident. Not a plane crash.

Seth was dead.

I was being crazy.

But...even his voice sounded like Seth
's. "When?"

"
When what?"

"
When was the car accident?"

He didn
't answer, and I really didn't need to see his eyes to know he was staring in disbelief.

I tried to play it off. I faked a coy smile even as my stomach churned.
"I'm nosy."

"
Who are you?"

His badge was clipped to the waistband of his dark jeans. It didn
't have his name on it—only his job designation along with the state seal. I stuck out my hand. "Nina Quinn. I live across the street."

A smile twitched the corner of his lips.

A smile I recognized.

My knees went a little weak, and I shifted my weight to keep my balance. It was impossible. This man was
not
Seth.

"
The infamous Nina Quinn. I'm Cain Monahan."

He took my hand, and I noticed that his hand had been burned as well. There was scarring on the top of his hand and his wrist—maybe higher but the rest of his arm was covered by the long sleeve of his light green button-down shirt.

The scarring didn't affect the warmth of his skin or the firm strength of his grip.

A very real grip.

Not a ghostly one.

Clearing my throat, I said,
"Infamous?"

"
I was warned about you."

I tucked my now-sweaty hand into my pocket and tried my best to wrap my head around this situation. People had doppelgangers. That
's all Cain Monahan was. A doppelganger. "Warned? By whom?"

"
A police detective. He said you'd probably try snooping into the case. That you fancy yourself some kind of Nancy Drew, and that I should steer clear of you."

"
A detective? Tall? Dark hair? Green eyes?"

He nodded.
"You know him?"

Kevin. The sneaky dog.
"My ex-husband. And I don't fancy myself any kind of Nancy Drew. I'm a little too old for the likes of her, but yes," I admitted, "I've been involved in a few cases." He didn't need to know exactly how many.

The corpse whisperer
.

I shuddered.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. "You look a little pale."

I could see exactly how pale I was thanks to my reflection in his sunglasses.
"I'm all right." I searched for a lie. Anything other than telling him that he looked and sounded and smiled exactly like a boy I used to love. "As much experience as I've had with it, murder is never easy to deal with. You must know that, with your line of work."

He turned a bit, toward the back yard where the tree had fallen.
"Some cases are worse than others."

"
How long have you been an investigator?"

He hesitated for a long second, and I thought he
'd see right through my prying and not answer. I held my breath.

But finally he said,
"About seven years."

"
Did you go to college for it?"

He tipped his head.
"My degree is in health sciences. I was a paramedic for a few years after graduation, and then this job opened up."

I rocked on my heels.
"Oh? Where'd you go to college?"

He hesitated again.
"University of Florida."

"
Is that where you grew up? Florida?"

"
Partly. Have you lived here, in Freedom, your whole life?"

"
Born and raised."

"
And how old are you?" he asked.

Suddenly, I realized he
'd soundly taken over the investigation.

Before I could answer, a dark SUV pulled up. The window powered down, and Kevin stuck his head out.
"You just can't help yourself, can you?"

I put my hand on my hip.
"I haven't asked a thing about the case, have I?" I said to Cain. I hadn't asked because I'd been too busy grilling him about his personal life. I'd have gotten around to asking about Joey's murder eventually.

"
Not a word," he said.

Kevin looked like he didn
't believe us. He shut off the car and hopped out. "Good." He glanced at Cain. "Do you mind if I talk to her privately for a moment?"

"
Not at all. Nice to meet you, Ms. Quinn."

"
Same here," I said.

He took a kit out of his
trunk and headed for the house.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Kevin said,
"What was that?"

"
What was what?"

"
You and him?"

"
I was wrong earlier. Jealousy
doesn't
become you."

He tipped his head back and sighed.
"What were you two talking about?"

I batted my eyes and said dreamily,
"Do you think he's married?"

Kevin growled.
"I'm not jealous."

"
Sure, sure." He wasn't fooling me.

"
You really weren't asking him about the case?"

"
No."

"
Then what?"

"
Stuff." I changed the subject. I didn't want to talk about Seth with him. "What brings you back here?"

He leaned against the hood of the SUV.
"Jean-Claude said you had some information for me about the case."

"
Jean-Claude..." I shook my head. "He says he can prove Delphine is innocent but won't say how he knows. He wanted me to convince you to let her go. He thinks I have pull with you."

His eyes darkened a bit and made me think I did have a little sway. I
'd remember that.

"
Family loyalty?" he asked.

"
Maybe." I left out the part where Jean-Claude didn't want to incriminate himself by revealing his information. I'd work on getting his alibi before I turned him over to be questioned formally.

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