Exotica (Episode Two: The Nightshade Cases)

By Patti Larsen

Bodies wash up on the Silver City beach all the time, but this one is different. Detective Geraldine Meyers is hot on the case, with help from medical examiner Dr. Rachel Hunter and anthropologist Dr. Kinsey DanAllart, uncovering the truth behind deaths at a popular new nightclub. Will they deduce a logical explanation for the murders? Or will the three friends uncover a deeper conspiracy hiding the truth about what’s stalking their city’s streets?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patti Larsen
• Release date: Jun 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9781927464663

Patti Larsen

About me, huh? Well, my official bio reads like this: Patti Larsen is a multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in her head. But that sounds so freaking formal, doesn’t it? I’m a storyteller who hears character's demands so loudly I have to write them down. I love the idea of sports even though sports hate me. I’ve dabbled in everything from improv theater to film making and writing TV shows, singing in an all girl band to running my own hair salon.But always, always, writing books calls me home.I’ve had my sights set on world literary domination for a while now. Which means getting my books out there, to you, my darling readers. It’s the coolest thing ever, this job of mine, being able to tell stories I love, only to see them all shiny and happy in your hands... thank you for reading.As for the rest of it, I’m short (permanent), slightly round (changeable) and blonde (for ever and ever). I love to talk one on one about the deepest topics and can’t seem to stop seeing the big picture. I happily live on Prince Edward Island, Canada, home to Anne of Green Gables and the most beautiful red beaches in the world, with my pug overlord and overlady, six lazy cats and Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

Book preview

Episode Two: Exotica

The Nightshade Cases: Book Two

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 by Patti Larsen

Find out more about Patti Larsen at http://www.pattilarsen.com/home

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Edited by Annetta Ribken www.wordwebbing.com

Proofed by Jessica Bufkin

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Chapter One

She ran, stumbling over her bare feet, the heavy sand pulling at her, dragging her back. Heat shimmered from the depths of the coarse whiteness, though the sun was long set over the beach.

Her knees hit the surface, digging into the sharp edge of a shell, but she didn’t scream as her blood flowed from the slice in her pale flesh. She couldn’t, not past the pounding in her head, the pain it caused her to draw a breath. Her whole body scorched from the inside out, eating itself as fear mixed with the toxin in her veins.

The night air, humid and heavy, wrapped her lungs in a wet blanket, drowning her while she fought for breath. She felt equally powerful and fragile, the dark spinning around her as she struggled to rise. Fear won over the awe of how beautiful and fresh the sky looked, how sparkly the few stars she could see, magnified, intense, burning holes in her eyes, in her soul.

She staggered to her feet, blood trickling down her leg, the tall pier ahead shadowing the pounding of the surf. A hiding place. Surely, she could crouch in the darkness and escape.

But the dark intensified her fear, made it an agony she couldn’t bear and, moments after her trembling legs carried her under the towering wooden structure she emerged on the other side, panting, chest crushing her lungs, her wilding beating heart.

She wasn’t alone anymore. Up ahead people talked, laughed, stood in casual calm on the shore. She could reach them, and they would help her, save her from… save her.

From.

She opened her mouth to scream and only a thin sound emerged, a faint whistle of breath exhaling from her laboring lungs, a line of drool dripping from the corner of her lip to darken the fabric of her torn halter. One knee gave out, the injured one, and she stopped, bending to grasp at it, terror so powerful she felt it build like a living thing bursting from her already constricted chest, begging for release as she tried one more time to scream.

Her searching fingers reached out for salvation as a hand emerged from the darkness under the pier and pulled her back into the black as the waves pounded the beach.

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Chapter Two

Dr. Ocean Panther crossed her legs, knee length skirt brushing gently over her skin. She refrained from chewing the end of her pen in frustration as her current—and most aggravating—patient stood in dark silence in front of the large, plate glass window of her high-rise office. Not for the first time, Cici silently asked herself why she’d agreed to take on this detective as a patient.

But, when Gerri Meyers spoke up, she remembered.

You asked a question? Sorry, I missed it. The statuesque redhead turned with a playful smile on her face. Classic distraction technique. It seemed Gerri knew therapy’s tricks about as well as Cici. She did her best not to sigh, found herself smiling in return. As much as she would have liked a more pliable patient in the tall detective, Cici found she liked her more and more with every irritating and progress free visit.

Gerri turned back to the window without waiting for Cici to comment. Instead of asking her question again—about Gerri’s state of mind the last few weeks since the death of her partner, Joe Mutch—Cici took the time to simply observe her. For the first time in a long time, since she was a child, as a matter of fact, Cici thought of her grandmother’s teachings. A full-blooded Periqwai Indian, native to the very lands where Silver City now stood, Mama Roan made it her mission to ensure Cici was well versed and educated on her tribe’s history.

She always said there were those the great creator, Toqwai, gifted with the soul of much more than just humanity. Cici always passed off such stories as just that. Until she met Gerri. In her, she could see what Mama Roan meant.

Gerri was more. Not that she seemed odd or off to Cici. Quite the contrary. There was a massive charisma about the detective, an attraction that had nothing to do with sexuality. And yet, everything to do with it. Cici could only imagine men were terrified of Gerri. Women jealous. All while being inexorably drawn to her. And Gerri, though confident outwardly, had to be unaware of her effect on others outside the benefit it gave her doing her job.

A wild animal lived inside the detective, begging for release. And the woman did her very best to keep it trapped. Cici shivered slightly, hearing Mama Roan’s voice in her head.

Them that’s more, she said, accent heavy with the native language of their tribe and English never far past passable, they be trouble waiting for happen.

Cici got the point. And, sitting there, observing Gerri, she finally understood. Not only was Gerri trouble waiting for happen, she was likely attracting it to her like a magnet.

Not that Cici believed such things. She’d been raised in an educated household, her father a lawyer, mother a nurse. Her parents hadn’t exactly rejected the tribe, were still full members. But their decision to live off the reservation, to give Cici and her little brother the option to grow up in the white man’s world, gave the therapist a unique perspective on life. And while her brother, Wind, went back to the tribe with his head full of ways to improve life on the rez, now chief by a landslide election that shocked even her, Cici remained in the concrete and glass castles of the white man. Where she felt she belonged.

Until now. Premonition hit her like a freight train, even as Cici tried to deflect it. Here was proof of her grandmother’s teachings. She was positive of it. Of the six races, the disguises worn by humans to hide their animals within. When Gerri turned, Cici jumped a little, though her patient didn’t seem to notice. Instead, the detective stood, framed in sunlight, her red hair on fire, the beast within her showing so clearly Cici could barely breathe.

It wasn’t until Gerri crossed the room, leaving the direct light, she appeared just human again. Cici struggled to regain control of her beating heart as Gerri sank into the chair across from her, oblivious as far as the therapist could tell, to the turmoil in Cici’s mind.

I’m fine, Gerri said in her deep and resonant voice. Cici held still, realizing she was finally answering the question. Joe’s death was a tragedy. I’ve moved on. She shrugged her wide shoulders, crossing one cowboy booted foot over her knee, settling it there, much like a man might sit. Gerri’s ease of being made Cici feel breathless all over again. Did she know what lived within?

Did Cici? Or was she just letting her imagination run away with her?

And your anger issues? Cici cleared her throat delicately, silky black hair falling over her notes as she tilted her head down, if only for a moment’s respite. Looking away from Gerri only made things worse when Cici glanced up again. How had she missed this the last three times she’d had sessions with the detective? Sure, she’d noted the charismatic pull of the woman. But this was different, as though she’d woken something in Cici just by being.

And she wasn’t so certain she was grateful for that.

Gerri’s brow was furrowed, green eyes staring at the tip of her boot. It’s fine, she said. I’m not angry.

Cici laughed. She didn’t mean to. But the lie was so absurd, her insides so wound up over this new awakening, she couldn’t help it. Gerri met her gaze, temper burning behind those eyes before she, too, laughed.

They chuckled together a moment, the amusement easing the tightness in Cici’s chest, releasing her from the odd awareness. When she drew a deep breath and released it, Gerri transformed from more than a woman to just the detective, attractive in more ways than one, but just a tall, stunning redhead. Cici shook her head at her own odd reaction and wondered what the hell was wrong with her.

Mama Roan would love this.

Okay, got me. Gerri’s grin was genuine, though her gaze remained guarded. Anger issues. She rubbed one hand over her eyes before shrugging. I don’t know, honestly. She seemed genuinely bemused, and, for once, Cici felt like she was being completely truthful. I had a great childhood. Awesome folks. A brother and sister who love me. She shook her head, red hair spilling around her in waves. I have no reason to be angry.

While most of what Gerri just said was true, that last part was a lie. She knew damned