Buch lesen: «The Curse of Raven's Cliff»
She was afraid of the growing feelings she had for Andrei. Did he feel it too?
“Feel what?”
Her face heated, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Obviously she’d spoken her fears aloud.
She let down her hand and said, “This thing between us.”
“Yes, I feel it.” The low rumble of his voice warmed the cool night air, filling the space between them with promise.
The baby kicked, inserting the silent reminder why Jocelyne couldn’t have a relationship with any man. “Don’t, Andrei.”
Her voice came out as the barest of whispers she hoped he wouldn’t hear. “Don’t fall in love with me.”
“I can’t promise you that.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
2004 Golden Heart Winner for Best Paranormal Romance, Elle James started writing when her sister issued the Y2K challenge to write a romance novel. She managed a full-time job, raised three wonderful children and she and her husband even tried their hands at ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas) in the Texas hill country. Ask her and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry three hundred and fifty pound bird! After leaving her successful career in Information Technology Management, Elle is now pursuing her writing full-time. She loves building exciting stories about heroes, heroines, romance and passion. Elle loves to hear from fans. You can contact her at ellejames@earthlink. net or visit her website at www.ellejames.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Andrei Lagios – Police officer on the Raven’s Cliff force whose younger sister was a victim of the Seaside Strangler.
Jocelyne Baker – Holistic healer and pregnant daughter of the town kook, enlisted as a cover story by Raven’s Cliff police officer Lagios to assist in the search for the Seaside Strangler.
Hazel Baker – Warm-hearted, peace-loving town kook and owner of the Cliffside Inn, working through her Wicca beliefs to create a cure for the curse plaguing Raven’s Cliff.
Mayor Perry Wells – Corrupt mayor of Raven’s Cliff and a regular at the Cliffside Inn, suspected of taking kickbacks from an illegal source, also a bereaved father whose daughter disappeared on the day of her wedding.
Grant Bridges – Resident of the Cliffside Inn whose fiancée, the mayor’s daughter, disappeared on the day of their wedding.
Rick Simpson – Mayor Wells’s assistant and a regular at the Cliffside Inn, he’s also a man with a hidden agenda.
Alex Gibson – Mild-mannered fisherman and resident of the Cliffside Inn who believes in Hazel Baker’s search for the cure to the curse of Raven’s Cliff.
Ingram Jackson – Solitary, wealthy recluse with severe burn scars who keeps to himself but frequents the Cliffside Inn for Hazel Baker’s remedies.
Under Suspicion, With Child
ELLE JAMES
MILLS & BOON
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This book is dedicated to Intrigue editors
Allison Lyons and Sean Mackiewicz, whose
vivid imaginations created the idea of
Raven’s Cliff, the curse and the intrigue.
And thanks to the wonderful authors who
worked together to make this continuity
come to life.
Chapter One
The cool ocean breeze of summer feathered through the loose tendrils of Jocelyne Baker’s hair, caressing her skin and body, soothing the tension away. Sitting with her legs crossed on the mat, her hands flat on the ground beside her, eyes closed, she inhaled, and let it out slowly.
All the tension of being cooped up for the past two rainy days in the inn with her mother melted away.
Maybe coming home hadn’t been such a good idea. She could have made it work had she stayed in New Jersey. Somehow.
The flutter of tiny feet in her belly reminded her why she’d returned. Pregnant and alone, she’d needed a better place than the city to raise her child, even if it meant going home.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Nothing had changed. The town was as it had been when she’d left. Her mother was still considered the town kook and everyone stared at her, waiting for her to be just as flaky. Like mother, like daughter.
The only difference was that this time she was more mature, more confident in her own place in life. She refused to let whispering gossips hurt her or her child. Her muscles clenched in her neck and shoulders.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Moving back to Raven’s Cliff wasn’t a mistake. She repeated this mantra with each breath in and each one out.
Despite the cleansing breeze, other thoughts edged into her meditation. What of the Seaside Strangler? The man hadn’t been caught. Would they catch him before Jocelyne brought her child into this world?
Unable to establish the inner peace she so intensely needed, Jocelyne pushed to her feet and stood straight, staring over the edge of the cliff out to the churning sea. Then she squatted, lowering her buttocks while her hands reached toward the sky, and closed together as if in prayer. Her hamstrings and the muscles in her back stretched, the tops of her thighs tingling with the effort to maintain the pose and tap in on the elusive inner peace she desperately sought.
HIS FEET POUNDING AGAINST the gravel, Andrei Lagios shut out everything but his breathing and the burning sensation in his muscles as he pushed himself harder and faster. He wanted the pain, even welcomed it. Pain reminded him he was alive. Unfortunately, so was the fiend who’d killed his beautiful little sister.
Despite the cool temperatures and the bite of the wind off the ocean, sweat leaked from every pore. Still he ran on, his lungs near bursting, but his attempts to turn off his memories failed. His thoughts mirrored the frothy, wind-tossed seas and the skies laden with heavy storm clouds.
He’d chosen the path along the cliff because no one would bother him here, and he felt closer to Sofia, who’d washed ashore near here two months ago. Her pale, bloated face and the seashell necklace around her throat still churned in Andrei’s mind. He’d been the one on duty when the report came across the radio that the two girls who’d been missing since the night of their high-school prom had been found, washed against the rocky shoreline.
He’d been the one to break it to his parents that their only little girl, his younger sister, had died at the hands of the Seaside Strangler. The bitter truth burned in his chest that he had done nothing to stop the killer or keep him from doing it again.
Andrei couldn’t run hard or fast enough to escape his failure. Someone in this small community had committed the crime and he hadn’t found him yet.
In the distance, he spotted movement near the edge of the cliff overlooking the area where a tourist had discovered the girls’ bodies.
Squinting against the wind, he tried to make out what it was. Then it moved again, rising from the ground, straightening. A woman wearing a white flowing skirt sat cross-legged, lifting her face to the sky. The wind whipped bright red strands of hair in Medusa-like fashion around her head.
His heart skipped several beats before shooting the blood through his body too fast for his veins to handle. Adrenaline sped his feet, kicking up chunks of gravel in his wake.
What was a woman doing out on the cliff alone? Hadn’t she heard of the Seaside Strangler? And what was with the white dress?
If Andrei never saw another white dress, he’d be happy. To him, white meant death.
She rose to her feet, her posture straight as a pole, the sometimes gale-force winds twisting the ghostly pale skirt around her body, plastering it against her. Her blouse flapped, exposing the creamy fair skin of her hips and back. As though caught in a trance, she stared out toward the waves. Then she bent at the knees, her arms rising above her in the position of someone about to dive over the edge of a cliff.
Andrei’s breath lodged in his throat for a brief second, then all the air in his lungs burst out on one word. “No!”
With the length of a football field between them, he knew he couldn’t stop her if she chose to dive onto the rocks below, but he had to try. Another woman couldn’t die on his watch. He owed that much to Sofia and the people of Raven’s Cliff.
The wind caught his words and whipped them away. Lifting his elbows and knees, he pumped harder, working his muscles to a screaming point. He’d never run so fast, nor felt so frustrated that he couldn’t run faster.
The woman bent lower, tucking her head between her arms.
“Stop! Don’t do it!” Andrei yelled again.
This time, she heard him and turned in his direction, her eyes wide, her mouth opened in an O. Her feet shifted and she stumbled on the gravel, tilting toward the edge of the cliff. The one-hundred-foot drop to the rocky shore below would be the death of her.
Desperation spurred Andrei on. “Don’t jump! Please.”
She righted herself, her brows knitting over her eyes. “Jump?”
Andrei ground to a stop in front of her, grasping her arms in a viselike grip. “Don’t.” He gasped, dragging air into his lungs before he could go on.
“Don’t jump?” She stared at him, her smoky-green eyes troubled.
All Andrei could do was glance at the edge of the cliff as he hauled more air into his starving lungs.
Her brows lifted and the hint of a smile tilted the corners of her lips. “Oh, I get it. You think I was about to jump.” She brought her hands up between his wrists, attempting to knock his fingers loose from her arms. When he didn’t let go, her frown reappeared. “I assure you, I have no intention of jumping from this cliff or any other. You can let go of me, now.”
He stared at her long and hard before he reluctantly released her. “Then why the hell did you look like you were about to dive?”
“Ah, the Utkatasana.” She laughed, the sound like the tinkling bells of a wind chime.
“Utka-what?”
Her laughter disappeared, whipped away by the wind, but her sparkling green eyes continued to reflect her amusement. “Relax, cowboy. I wasn’t about to dive, I was relaxing with one of my yoga positions. Utkatasana.” Her knees bent and she raised her arms, her hands pressed together as if in prayer. “It’s called the chair position. It’s good for the arms, legs, diaphragm and heart.”
Anger washed away any last trace of fear he might have felt and exploded in words. “Are you crazy?”
She winced, her full, luscious lips tightening into a thin line. “Excuse me?”
“For all I knew, you were about to throw yourself over the edge. And if you weren’t out to kill yourself, you are definitely an easy target for the Seaside Strangler.” He stepped closer, standing toe-to-toe with the fiery-haired woman. “Lady, go home. Go home and lock your doors.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake.
Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him. “First of all, I don’t take orders from you or anyone else. Second, I’m not crazy and I’ll go wherever I want. Who do you think you are, telling me or anyone else what they can or can’t do?”
“I’m a cop with the Raven’s Cliff Police Department.” Even to his own ears, his response was a lame excuse to be bossing the woman around.
“So?” She crossed her arms over her chest, a coppery brow rising high on her pale forehead. The stiff breeze lifted the ends of the filmy white skirt she wore, plastering it to her long, slender legs.
The dress reminded him of the dress his sister wore when she’d been found. A white wedding dress, not unlike what this woman wore. All the starch and anger drained from him. “Look, it’s not safe for a lone woman to be out here.”
“I can take care of myself.” Her hand smoothed the dress down over her belly. “I’m not suicidal, and I know what to look out for. I just wanted a little peace and quiet away from the inn.”
So she was a tourist. A twinge of disappointment nudged at him. She wouldn’t stay long at Raven’s Cliff. But with a killer loose, leaving seemed the best idea.
Her determined stance and ability to stand up for herself had intrigued him more than he cared to admit. The way the filmy dress wrapped around her trim calves probably had something to do with the attraction as well.
He straightened, hardening his jaw. “Take a friend with you next time. We don’t know who the strangler is and I’d hate to see you washed up on the rocks.” Like my sister. He didn’t say it, but he felt it with the pain in his chest.
“I’ve walked this path since I was a tiny girl. I know where all the hiding places are and believe me, there aren’t many out here. And if I wanted to jump over the edge, I’d have done it already, and you couldn’t have stopped me.” She eased toward the edge.
His hand shot out automatically, grasping her arm.
“All right, already. I’m not going to jump. I was just going to show you that there is a path down the side of the cliff. If I wanted to go down, I’d walk.”
Together they leaned over the edge and stared at the thin path that surely only a goat could traverse.
“I used to take it down to the water to find shells and starfish among the—” Her face paled to gray and she stumbled back against him. “Holy mother.”
Andrei clasped her shoulders and set her behind him before peering over the edge to the rocks below.
Lifted by the waves and pushed into the rocks was the body of a woman dressed in white, facedown in the surf.
Chapter Two
Of all the stupid times to pass out, Jocelyne couldn’t have picked a worse. But to wake up in the arms of this stranger… Shivers rippled over her entire body. And darn it all, they weren’t shivers of fear.
A woman was dead at the bottom of the cliffs, for heaven’s sake. Why should she be so concerned about being crushed against a man’s brawny chest and carried away? They were headed toward town. How dangerous could that be?
She could smell the man’s sweat and it was having an entirely unwarranted effect on her, driving her blood to pump faster, her heart to race and her skin to flush.
“Put me down.” Jocelyne kicked her feet and pushed with her free hand against the man’s well-muscled chest. The other hand wrapped around his neck to keep him from dropping her on the rocks. “We have to notify the police about that girl.”
“That’s where I’m headed.” His feet ate the distance between the cliff and town in long easy strides.
“Look, for all I know you could be the Seaside Strangler.” Her breath caught in her throat as his hand shifted, brushing against the underside of her breast. “Why else would you be out there?”
“I was jogging.”
Okay, calm down. No need in upsetting the baby. On the other hand, what did she really know about the muscle-bound man with the soulful dark eyes? So he was wearing a T-shirt, shorts and running shoes. The strangler could dress the same.
She renewed her struggles. “Put me down before I scream.” With the wind blowing and still on the outskirts of town, she doubted anyone would hear her. But she’d give it her best effort. She dragged in a breath.
“If I were the Seaside Strangler, would I be carrying you toward town? To the Raven’s Cliff Police Department?”
Her breath released in a huff. “If you wanted to throw people off your trail, maybe.” As they entered town, the few cars driving along the road slowed.
Jocelyne groaned. “Put me down. People are pointing at us.” She cupped his cheek and made him look at her. “Please?”
Something in her voice must have gotten to the Neanderthal and made him pause. “Are you sure you won’t pass out again?”
She raised a hand scout-style. “I promise.”
If his frown was any indication, he didn’t quite believe her, but he let her feet drop to the ground, while retaining the arm around her waist.
“Look, I’m pregnant, not sick. The reason I passed out was that I haven’t eaten breakfast.” She patted his chest. “See? Easy fix. Now let me go.”
A gaggle of women exiting the coffee shop a block away stopped and stared at Jocelyne and the man in the running shorts.
“I can manage it from here, Officer.” Jocelyne’s cheeks burned like they had when her classmates pointed and whispered about her mother being a witch, when they made taunts that she was the spawn of the devil. She turned toward the police department, but try as she might, she couldn’t shake the cop’s hand from her waist. “Really, I can walk on my own.”
“Until we get you to the station, you’ll have to deal with a little help.”
One of the women leaned toward the ear of another, her gaze following Jocelyne’s progression down the street, her lips moving fast.
“I don’t like it when people stare,” she whispered through her teeth.
“I don’t care what they think. There’s a dead woman back there, you passed out, and I’m not letting go of you until we get to the police station.” His jaw could have been carved in granite, ebony eyes staring straight ahead unwavering from his course. That arm was like a steel band, locking her against his rock-solid side.
Jocelyne’s heart hammered against her ribs. This man was hard, strong and determined. If he were the Seaside Strangler, she didn’t stand a chance. Nor did any other woman. The fact he was a cop, didn’t mean anything. There were such animals as renegade cops gone bad. Her instincts told her he wasn’t bad and he wasn’t the Seaside Strangler, but he also wasn’t letting go of her. The fact that he’d carried her for almost half a mile impressed her. Not that she’d admit it to him.
A pretty young blonde stepped out of the beauty shop and waved at the man whose hand gripped dangerously close to Jocelyne’s breast. “Hi, Andrei.” Her face crinkled into a pout, her gaze narrowing at the hand around Jocelyne’s waist. “Are we still on for tonight?”
“Sorry. Something’s come up. I have to work.” He passed her with little more than a glance, hurrying on to the stately brick building that housed not only the police station, but the jail and courthouse.
All along Main Street, Jocelyne reminded herself that the victim of the Seaside Strangler took precedence over her own embarrassed sensibilities. She could suffer through the inconvenience. Humiliation was a better alternative to what happened to that girl in the waves.
Once inside the building, Andrei settled her into a chair, with surprising gentleness. “Are you going to be okay?”
She inhaled the musky scent of male sweat, mingled with a hint of aftershave, and gulped. When he was being nice, he was almost handsome and sexy in his damp clothes, his thighs bulging from beneath his running shorts. “I’m fine,” she lied. “It was just the shock.” Seeing a body on the rocks, on top of being hungry and pregnant had caused her to black out. Having him stand so close, leaning all his bronzed muscles into her vision, just made her dizzier.
He stared hard at her, his brows drawing together. Had he read her mind? Could he see her reluctant attraction to him? Did he think less of her because she was pregnant and unmarried? She leaned back in her chair, determined to distance herself from him. Why should she care what he thought?
Her hand moved to the swell beneath her shirt. Because she kept in shape and had gained so little weight, she didn’t look very pregnant…yet. As the next few weeks passed, her condition would only become more apparent.
“What’s going on?” A bald man perhaps in his midfifties stepped through an open doorway, a coffee mug in one hand.
The man named Andrei straightened, his face drawn and tight. “Captain, I think we found Angela Wheeler.”
The captain’s gaze locked with Andrei’s for a moment, then he sighed. “Where?”
“Washed up on the rocks below the cliffs north of town.”
“Sure it wasn’t the mayor’s daughter?”
Andrei shook his head. “From where I stood, she looked tall, maybe five foot nine or ten. Camille was only five-four, right?”
“That’s right.” The captain nodded. “When did you find her?”
“Just a few minutes ago. I didn’t have a chance to get a positive ID, but she had the long blond hair and looked to be tall and thin like the girl in the picture Angela’s parents circulated.”
“Damn.” The older man turned toward the desk. “Joe, get the county coroner on the phone and send a squad car out to the cliffs north of town, we have another homicide.” When he faced Andrei again, he asked, “Same MO?”
Andrei nodded. “White dress, washed up on shore.”
“We’ll get the state crime lab right out there.” He shook his head. “This has got to stop. People can’t feel safe in their homes or let their daughters out without being afraid of that maniac.”
Andrei’s hands tightened into fists. “We have to find him.”
The captain laid a hand on Andrei’s arm. “Sorry. I know what this means to you and I know how hard you’ve worked this case.”
As the outsider looking in, Jocelyne didn’t know what a stranger’s death meant to the man who’d held her captive all the way back to town. By the whiteness of his fisted hands, she’d have to guess that it meant a lot.
Holding the coffee mug in one hand, the captain clutched the other hand to his gut. “This case is giving me an ulcer.” He dug in his pocket and unearthed a roll of antacids, popping one into his mouth. He chewed and then washed it down with the last of the coffee.
Jocelyne cringed. “You know, if you cut back on the coffee and high-fat foods and go on a regimen of mastic gum, that ulcer might go away.”
The man turned to Jocelyne, as if seeing her for the first time. “You think so? I’d give up my right arm to make my stomach feel better.” He stared down into his mug, then up at her. “Who are you?”
She stuck out her hand. “Jocelyne Baker. I’m a holistic healer. You know…natural cures versus surgery and drug company medications.”
“Captain Patrick Swanson.” The older man’s brows rose. “Mastic gum? Where do I find that?”
“At any health food store or you can get it from me. I keep a stock of natural products and herbs. It’s my business.” She waited for the usual frown to appear on the man’s face, but was surprised when he smiled.
“If you could fix me up with something to cure this pain in my gut, I’d be forever grateful.” He rubbed his belly and groaned. “This case isn’t helping.”
“I’ll have some mastic gum capsules to you before the end of the day. Just as soon as I dig some out of my packing boxes.”
“Great.” Captain Swanson glanced at Andrei, his face drawn and showing his age. “For now, we have a murder to solve, don’t we?”
Jocelyne took the opportunity to escape while Andrei wasn’t physically stopping her. “If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll be on my way.”
The captain redirected his attention to her. “I’ll have questions for you later, after we recover the body. You don’t have plans to leave town, do you?”
“No, I’m here for an extended stay. You can reach me at the Cliffside Inn. Tell you what, come by later with your questions, and I’ll have your mastic gum.”
“Are you a guest there?” he asked.
A twinge of disappointment squeezed Jocelyne’s chest. The older man hadn’t remembered her. What did she expect? As a teenager, she’d done her best to be invisible, wearing drab clothing and a hat over her brilliant red hair. Not until she’d moved away from Raven’s Cliff had she had the courage to be herself. “No. I live there.”
“Do I know you?” The captain’s eyes narrowed. “Baker, huh? Any relation to Hazel?”
Jocelyne inhaled and let it out. She was an adult now, and she could handle any ridicule thrown her way. “She’s my mother.”
“Ah, the innkeeper’s daughter.” He nodded, a smile softening his face. “I thought you looked familiar. I’d heard you’d come back to Raven’s Cliff. Well then, good. I’ll know where to look when I need to ask questions.”
She nodded, a swell of relief rushing over her. “Then I’ll be on my way.”
A large, calloused hand clamped onto her arm. “I’m taking you there.” Andrei’s chin set in a hard line.
The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. For the past ten years, she’d been independent of anyone telling her what to do. Even the two men in her life hadn’t interfered with her decisions. But with a body lying at the base of Raven’s Cliff, she didn’t want to make it a big deal.
With firm resolve, she peeled his hand off her arm. “No. You have much more important things to do. I’ll be fine on my own.” That said, she left, refusing to give him the opportunity to argue.
Having lost her sandals somewhere along the cliff, Jocelyne walked barefoot, her feet more tender than when she was a girl. The day was dreary, with clouds hanging low on the horizon and no sun to cast shadows or shed light into dark corners.
She hurried past the shops, hoping she didn’t bump into anyone else before she got home. All her old insecurities about being the village kook’s daughter surfaced to haunt her every step.
The Cliffside Inn stood near the town square, stately and welcoming after the horror of finding a woman’s dead body floating in the surf. Until she reached the inn, she’d felt fine. Numb, but fine. As soon as her feet touched the first step, her knees shook. By the time she opened the door, her entire body shook.
When all she wanted to do was go up to her room and collapse across her bed, she knew she couldn’t. Her baby needed nourishment. She had to get food in her stomach, even if eating was the last thing she wanted to do. This living being growing inside relied on her to care for him or her. This baby had not yet been introduced to this cold, callous world, where a woman wasn’t safe even in a small peaceful town like Raven’s Cliff.
Tears stung Jocelyne’s eyes. What a world to bring a child into. Had her curse followed her back to Raven’s Cliff?
When her first lover died seven years ago, she’d attributed it to bad luck that he’d been run over by a city bus. When the father of her unborn child fell on the subway tracks and was crushed by several tons of train, Jocelyne had thought long and hard. The common denominator was that they both loved her. Nothing else about their lives was the same. They had different occupations, different looks and different philosophies. But they’d dared to love her.
Despite her desire to put her mother’s Wicca beliefs behind her, Jocelyne couldn’t help but wonder if there was truth in the saying, Nothing is ever a coincidence. All actions, all events have a purpose.
With the death of Tyler Reed, her baby’s father, and newly pregnant, Jocelyne had struggled to hold it together. In the end, she was drawn back to where her troubles began. Maybe if she resolved her anger with her mother, the rest of her life would get better and the curse would lift. She hoped so for the sake of her unborn child.
The image of a girl dressed in white, lying at the bottom of the cliff, stabbed at her empty stomach, making it knot in pain. So far it looked as though her curse had followed her and extended beyond men who loved her. Was she destined to be followed by a black cloud of doom?
AFTER SPENDING THE DAY watching the state crime team comb the cliffs and the rocky shore below, Andrei was physically and emotionally exhausted. But he couldn’t stop until he found the murderer. He owed it to Sofia, his beautiful little sister who’d been the third victim of the Seaside Strangler.
Angela’s body had been recovered before noon and taken directly to the coroner where an autopsy was begun immediately. Mayor Wells had been there holding his breath when they pulled her from the surf, his face gray and lined with worry. Only when they turned her over and proved for certain she was Angela, did he draw in a shaky breath and run a hand through his thick, graying hair, standing it on end. He’d left shortly afterward, without a word to the captain, disappearing from the scene like a ghost.
Andrei knew what the medical examiner would say. Died of strangulation by a necklace of rare seashells. The same fate as his sister, her friend Cora and Rebecca Johnson.
Failure ate at his gut, stirring his anger. No clues had surfaced thus far to point the police force in the right direction. No fingerprints, no DNA samples from the attacker. Nothing. In a small community like Raven’s Cliff, it shouldn’t be so hard to find a killer.
But for the past several months, the perpetrator had eluded detection, slipped through their grasp and killed again.
Ten o’clock at night, and having sat at his desk for the past three hours, Andrei tapped a pencil to the file before him. The file he’d compiled and studied over the past couple months until he could recite every word, describe every picture. In it were the happy, unmarred faces of the women who’d died and the pictures taken after their bodies were discovered. A morbid before and after testimony to the killer’s impact.
After interviewing family, friends and acquaintances, Andrei had determined that none of the victims had enemies sufficiently angry with them. At least not enough to warrant killing them.
So far, the killer preyed on young women, yet none of the women had shown signs of rape. All of them had been dressed in white wedding gowns, strangled and thrown into the sea. What was the connection to the young women, the white wedding dresses and the sea? The whole situation reeked of sacrifices. Some sick ritual dreamed up by a demented mind.
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