Booty Call (Episode Seven: The Nightshade Cases)

By Patti Larsen

When murder hits close to home for the three friends, it’s Ray who takes the brunt of the grief. Doesn’t help her cruel and meddling mother decides to make an appearance. Or that Ray’s girlfriend, Cici Panther, is pushing her away from Kinsey and Gerri, even as an old lover comes to call...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patti Larsen
• Release date: Aug 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781927464731

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

Booty Call

The Nightshade Cases: Book Seven

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 by Patti Larsen

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

***

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 the retailer 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

***

Chapter One

Her footsteps echoed in the quiet of the parking garage, her shadow lengthening and multiplying before snapping back as she passed beneath the dim lights above. Not that she noticed, her head down, thumbs busy over the screen of her smartphone as she texted with a grin on her face.

Thx for dinner. Had a gr8 time.

No service. She shrugged, slipping the slim, black device into her shoulder bag, one foot splashing through a small puddle, deep enough to make her curse. A drip of water fell from above, a crack in the concrete allowing a tiny stream of water to invade the third level. She paused, shaking off the moisture from her Pradas, pausing to wipe at the expensive leather with a tissue from her bag.

Discarding the dirty bit of paper to the ground, mind already elsewhere, it wasn’t until she dug deeper into the contents of her purse her ears perked. Footsteps, low and heavy, coming from behind her, caught her attention. Held it.

She hated the fear reaction coursing through her at the sound, straightening her shoulders purposely, bitch face firmly in place, her only defense. That and the can of Mace she kept tucked away in her bag. But she refused to be that woman who jumped at shadows.

Just let someone try to hurt her. He’d end up with the heel of her shoe in his crotch.

Her SUV waited up ahead, the sound of footsteps growing closer even as she picked up her own pace, brusque and professional, despite her hurry. Don’t look like a victim, she thought, and you won’t end up one.

She barely registered the fact the light over her vehicle was busted out, not while she aggressively tapped the lock button on her key ring, the taillights of the black truck blinking in response. Without slowing, she rounded the side of her vehicle and jerked open the door, tossing in her bag before climbing in herself. She slammed the door shut behind her in one swift, confident action.

She refused to admit the exhale she released as she locked the doors behind her was relief. And almost laughed to herself at the sight, in her side mirror, of a teenager carrying a skateboard walking past the back of her truck. He turned his head, long, blue-dyed hair catching what little illumination came from the next bar of lights, eyes uninterested, face blank.

Idiot, she muttered to herself.

It wasn’t until the push-button start on her car refused to ignite the engine that she realized something was wrong. A brief flicker of movement raised her frowning face to the rearview mirror just in time for her wide, brown eyes to catch the tip of the gun, the muzzle flash.

She didn’t see anything after that.

Her whole body lurched forward as the head rest burst from the impact of the bullet through it, entering the back of her head and out through her eye socket, shattering the windshield on its way out. Enough brain matter splattered the interior to blur what the spider-web pattern of cracks didn’t.

In the dark of the parking spot, the back door of the SUV opened. Closed again with a dull thud. Footsteps retreated, leaving her alone, staring, as her text finally connected and reached its destination.

***

Chapter Two

Kinsey did her best not to grin at the tall redhead on the other side of her desk, just from sheer excitement. It seemed like she’d been badgering Gerri forever about the book resting on the surface of her desk, the red leather cover bent and worn with age, writing rubbed off so only the faint impression of where the words had been remained.

The blonde anthropologist had no idea what changed her detective friend’s mind. Maybe the acceptance of her own abilities, or the fact they had just dealt with a man who couldn’t die—Kinsey still blushed at the memory of Jordan and the effect he had on her—which made it impossible for Gerri to deny what they now faced.

Regardless, the fact Gerri sat at all was a miracle in itself. Sure, her crossed foot bobbed, cowboy boot toe dancing on the end of her jiggling knee, a stern and slightly wild look gracing her face. But she was sitting. About as big a miracle as the moment the red-haired Amazon crossed the threshold of Kinsey’s office and asked to talk about paranormals.

The weird, as Gerri called it. Kinsey wasn’t about to deny the very thing she’d wanted since the three friends— their medical examiner compatriot Ray part of the deal—reconnected here in Silver City.

Here’s what I know, Kinsey said, falling purposely into teacher mode, seeing Gerri visibly relax as her voice soothed the bigger woman with its practiced, soft firmness. Kinsey’s fingers slid over the book as she spoke, ridges hard under her touch. There seem to be six main races outside of humans, all with specific abilities and gifts. Gerri shuddered slightly but didn’t comment. There are also cross races created by the interbreeding of the six main ones, in an astonishingly vast array of possibilities. At least, that was her guess. Telling Gerri that she knew this for certain was, after all, a bit of a stretch. In fact, the book she’d received from the exorcist priest, Father Dante Delacruz, told her very little of what she shared with Gerri. Instead, she’d pieced together the research she’d done on the artifacts she studied under the oddly unwatchful care of Simone Paris. Kinsey had no doubt the woman had her own agenda, and working on the project for her made it difficult for Kinsey to help Gerri on her cases thanks to her involvement with suspected drug kingpin and nightclub owner, Julian Black. But Kinsey couldn’t seem to drag herself away from the fascinating artifacts she studied almost daily in the Black mansion, though she was certain now she had the majority of the symbols copied and carefully smuggled out of the private room.

Weird how she felt little to no guilt about breaking her non-disclosure agreement with Simone. Maybe if the woman had required her to sign a contract… but this was bigger than Simone, bigger than Kinsey or the Collective of All Souls who claimed ownership