Page 12 of Silverstorm

He stood for a few more seconds without speaking, and she could feel his looming presence. But there was no way she could give him the answers he wanted, so she waited until he finally got the message.

“Right. Well, have a good day at work. I’m sure you’ll love it, and I’m sure you’ll get on well with Naomi.”

“I’m sure I will, too,” she replied crisply, willing him to just go.

“I might see you this evening, then.”

She doubted it; she wasn’t going to initiate any more contact than was absolutely necessary.

“Remember, just knock on the door if there’s anything you need. Anything at all.” He put his hand on the door handle.

“Thank you.” He deserved that much. He definitely had her respect and appreciation. Without him she would’ve spent another night in her car, and would now be getting dressed at the public toilet block outside the back of the community hall, washing her hair in the stainless steel sink. “I mean it, Jude. I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

He gave a perfunctory shrug and closed the door behind him.

Aria took a deep breath, and then another, waiting for her jitters to subside. She considered the breakfast tray still sitting on the countertop. She hadn’t been eating much in the morning lately, finding her stomach couldn’t handle anything but coffee. But for some reason, she thought she might be able to handle the toast and honey Jude had brought. At least her morning sickness—if it could be called that—seemed to be fairly minor, and usually by lunchtime her slight nausea had disappeared. She hoped and prayed it’d stay that way, or at least not get any worse. She’d heard horror stories from other women who’d been so sick they couldn’t keep anything down, or who’d been practically bedridden. She was fairly lucky, by all accounts. Not that anyone knew she was pregnant, yet. And it’d be months before she started showing, so she had time. Resting a hand on her belly, she drew in a deep breath. Everything she was doing now was for the sake of this little one. This little nine-week old peanut growing inside her.

Had she made a mistake by accepting Jude’s offer to stay here? It was a roof over her head and that was top priority right now, so she needed to squash all her doubts and get on with it. But how the hell was she going to stay away from him? This attraction was so strong it was almost unmanageable. She needed to cleanse him from her mind and find the willpower to do what needed to be done.

CHAPTER SIX

JUDE TRIED TO breathe through his mouth. Even wearing a mask, the smell was terrible, and he nearly gagged. You never got used to this stink. The sickly sweet aroma of death.

He made his way through the darkened hallway toward the smell, Deputy Nomad right behind him. It wasn’t hard to decipher where the body was.

The call had come in just after lunch. A delivery man leaving a box of groceries on the back step had been nearly overpowered by the smell. And then he’d noticed the swarm of flies congregating around the back door, which was hanging open. One peek inside had been all he needed before he took off at a sprint back to his van and called the sheriff’s office. The delivery man was standing by the front gate now, face pale, and one hand still held to his nose as if he couldn’t get rid of the smell from his nostrils.

“Oh, shit,” Susan Nomad muttered as they approached the doorway at the end and peered into a kitchen.

Oh shit indeed. The room was like something from a nightmare. Blood spattered the walls, the countertop, the floor, and one of the windows. Old, congealed blood, almost black, and crawling with flies. Even in late fall, the insects were still active.

Was there a body? He quickly catalogued the layout of the kitchen. The back fly screen door still hung open on its hinges, and every time it flapped, it seemed more flies came in. The kitchen was a mess—even if you discounted the blood everywhere—dirty plates and pots and pans piled in the sink, food was left out on the counter, stacks of old newspapers in a corner, and a large central kitchen island filling most of the space in between. Jude forced himself to go farther into the room, stepping carefully and not touching anything, even though he was wearing latex gloves. Leaning forward, he squinted around the corner of the island, then recoiled before he could stop himself.

“There’s a body,” he confirmed to Susan. “And it’s not pretty.” His guts roiled, and he had to force down a wave of nausea. It didn’t matter how many times he’d come across a dead body, the sight always made him sick to his stomach. The tragedy of someone’s life cut short always hit hard with him, no matter who the person was, or even whether some might say that person deserved it.

Susan squinted at him, but she followed his lead and leaned to stare around the kitchen island. Her cool blue eyes taking inventory of the body and the rest of the kitchen, much like he’d already done. Susan had been on the job as long as he had. They’d both been taken in as trainees around the same time. They worked well together, and he trusted her implicitly. She was always cool in the face of danger, and they’d both seen their fair share of dead bodies, so he knew that while she might be shocked by the mess on the floor, that’d once been a man, she would remain professional and do what was needed. They both would. It was what they’d been trained for. Oh, God, how was he going to break this to Aria?

This was her father’s house, and there was a partially dismembered body on the floor. They need to try and confirm his identity before they informed the next of kin. But he was in no doubt this was Tango Cusack. The old bloke was practically a hermit. He rarely, if ever, came into town, and Jude had to think hard as to the last time he’d seen him. It would’ve been six months ago when the man had come in to the sheriff’s office raving that someone was out to get him. He’d looked almost crazy back then. Thin as a rake, long, scraggly beard and bloodshot eyes. Jude had been assigned to talk to him, but Tango made little sense, talking about a cult called InXium, and a man who was out to kill him. But he had no proof, and after an hour of listening to him ramble, the sheriff had come into the deposition room and told him to go home, because that wasn’t the first time Tango had been to see the sheriff and Hank was getting tired of his staff having to listen to his delusions.

No one had followed up on the accusations, because Hank had decided there was no basis to his allegations. It was just the ravings of an insane, old man. Jude had Googled the cult InXium. It seemed they actually existed, so Tango had got that part right but there wasn’t a lot of information. The biggest gathering was in Colorado somewhere, but they were a bunch of drifters, usually traveling in groups of three or four. A religious group who believed in an apocalypse, where humanity would have to account for themselves at the end of time, which was supposedly happening soon. Everyone would have to account themselves to Him when the time came. Jude assumed He was their version of God, or Jesus, but it wasn’t really clear. What connection Tango might’ve had to this cult was unknown.

But now it seemed that perhaps Tango hadn’t been wrong, after all. Maybe there was someone out to get him. Jude was a little uncertain as to how this cult might be responsible for Tango’s murder, but maybe they should do a little more in-depth digging.

This murder wasn’t recent. Jude guessed the body was at least four or five days old.

Shit, hadn’t Aria said she’d been out to see her father when she’d first arrived back in town? Was she perhaps the last person to have seen him alive? How was she going to take this news? He knew their relationship was strained, but would she still grieve for him? Jude wanted to be the one to tell her. To be the one there for her, if she needed him.

But he was getting way ahead of himself. One step at a time.

“I’ll go and call the cops in Missoula. They can organize the guys from homicide and a forensics team to get down here ASAP,” he said, professional mask back in place.

“Right,” Susan replied briskly. “I’ll call the boss and then cordon off the area and make sure no one enters the scene.”

“Good.” Jude retraced his steps down the hallway, already taking his phone out of his pocket and dialing the Missoula police department. His day had suddenly become very busy.

Once he was sure the police were on their way, he went to grab some yellow tape to help Susan seal off the area. But his mind kept going back to thoughts of Aria. This was only her second day working at Stargazer, hopefully this didn’t put her job in jeopardy. He didn’t think Naomi or Dean would be that shallow. Surely, they’d give her a few days off for bereavement leave?

Jude had been careful not to go near the cottage since he’d barged in and found her wrapped in only a towel yesterday morning. If she wanted something, she’d have to come to him and ask, because he couldn't be trusted around her. He could still barely believe he’d kissed Aria. And he wanted to do a whole lot more than kiss her. If his mother knew, she would’ve rapped him over the knuckles for his ungentlemanly behavior. He’d taken advantage of the woman he’d offered refuge to. But she’d looked so…tempting. Soft and warm, straight from the shower. The sight of her bare shoulders and elegant neck had hit him so hard. But it was the knowledge that she wore nothing underneath the towel that had him hard in a second. He wanted to run a hand up her thigh, beneath the edge of that towel. She was alluring. Then she’d licked her lips, her dark eyes boring into him and something in him had snapped. A part of him he barely knew existed surged within, driving him to touch her, to taste her. Physically, she was his perfect woman, dark and slender. If he had a type, it would be her. But this was something more than just a physical attraction. There was something a little…lost about her. Something the protective side of him wanted to safeguard, as if he could help her find that missing piece. Which was utterly ridiculous.

---