The Siren (4 page)

After kicking off my shoes at the front door, I walked around to my white sofa. I plopped down and put my socked feet up on the coffee table. “What’s up, Nathan?”
 

Warren went to the kitchen, and Nathan sat down next to me. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, locking his fingers in front of him. “I got your message today about Rachel Smith.”

I frowned. “You could have told me that in a text message.”

He smiled. “I thought you should know I’m going to continue to investigate her disappearance.”

“Good for you,” I said and closed my eyes.

He nudged my leg with his knee. “You know you want to help me.”

I shook my head but refused to look at him. “No, I don’t. I’m done with police work and missing people and murderers—”

He cut me off. “You want to sit behind a desk and exchange emails with reporters and government officials all day? Keep working on the county online cookbook?”

I rolled my eyes toward him. “I have to eat and pay the bills around here. You’ve used up my personal and sick time for the next ten years.”

He opened the folder in his hand and passed me the same picture of Rachel Smith I had printed in my office earlier that day.
 

I passed it right back to him. “Not to sound harsh or anything, but why do you want to go chase down another dead girl? She’s not even in your jurisdiction.”

He cocked an eyebrow in question, a curious smile playing on his lips. “What if she’s not dead?”

I glared at him. “I’ve been looking at this photograph for months. She’s dead.”

He pulled another piece of paper from the folder and put it on my lap. It was a still image from the video surveillance system of a convenience store. The image was date-stamped just two days before. The exact same girl was looking directly into the camera.

“Are you sure she’s dead?” Nathan asked with a smile.

3.

Warren walked behind the couch and looked over my shoulder as I sat up and examined every detail about the woman’s appearance. As if reading my mind, Nathan handed me the photo from her missing report again, and I compared them side by side. “This is impossible,” I said, knowing exactly how wrong I was.

Nathan tapped the picture with his finger. “Is she alive or dead?”
 

“Dead,” Warren and I answered at the same time.

One side of Nathan’s mouth tipped up in a half-cocked smile. “This was taken two days ago. Didn’t you think she was dead before then?”

“This must be someone who looks like Rachel Smith,” I reasoned.
 

Nathan frowned. “You know it’s the same woman.”

“I hate to say it, Sloan”—Warren shook his head—“but I think Nathan’s right. They’re the same.”

Nathan laughed and turned to look at him. “How did those words taste coming out of your mouth?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Warren said.

Nathan leaned against the armrest of the sofa and angled his head to look at me sideways. “Do you remember saying you felt like Warren was dead when you first saw him?” Nathan jabbed his thumb toward Warren behind me. “Yet here he is, alive and irritating and—”

“And living here with Sloan,” Warren interrupted with an evil grin.

I gave them both dirty looks. “Stop it.” I returned my attention to the two photos of Rachel Smith in my hands. Finally, I looked up at Warren. “Do you really think this is possible?”

Nathan laughed. “No offense, but how can the two of you be possible?”

Warren walked around the couch and sat on the coffee table in front of us. “I guess we aren’t alone,” he said. “I’ve always wondered if there might be more people like us out there.”

I held up the new picture and looked at Nathan. “How did you get this?”

Nathan sat back with an annoying amount of satisfaction. “The FBI sent it over while I was gone to Greensboro. Rachel Smith—or whoever this woman really is—isn’t dead.”

I handed the photos back to him. “Good. Case closed.”

Warren and Nathan both stared at me, and as if on cue, they crossed their arms over their chests in unison.

I blew out a deep sigh and looked between them. “You seriously want to go and hunt this woman down?” They both smiled. I groaned and dropped my face into my hands. “The two of you are going to end up getting me fired.”

Nathan clapped his hands together with excitement.

Warren winked at me.

I pointed at them both. “If we do this, I’m laying down some ground rules. I’m not refereeing the two of you the whole time, and I’m not doing any more hiking trips searching for dead bodies.”
 

They both laughed.
 

Warren reached toward Nathan for the photograph. “Where was this picture taken?”
 

Nathan passed it to him. “San Antonio, Texas.”

I thought it over. “I like San Antonio. Good food, good shopping…”

Warren smiled at me. “Road trip?”

I shook my head. “I don’t drive anywhere over six hours. That’s why God created airplanes.”

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

I put up my hand. “Hold up.” I looked over at Nathan. “This isn’t related to your work. Why are you so interested in this?”

He shrugged and flashed me one of his tantalizing grins. “I guess since you helped me solve my big mystery, it’s time for me to return the favor and help solve yours.”

“This isn’t exactly police work. How will you get the time off?” I asked.

“Vacation time?” he suggested.

Frowning, I scrunched my eyebrows together. “You’ve been at the department for two months. You don’t have vacation time.”

He pulled a half-eaten bag of Skittles out of his pocket. “I just solved the biggest case in North Carolina’s history. I don’t think the Sheriff’s going to object.”

I cleared my throat. “Correction:
we
”—I pointed between Warren and myself—“just solved the biggest case in North Carolina’s history.”

Nathan popped a handful of candy into his mouth. “You helped,” he said with a wink.

Warren rubbed his palms together and looked at us both. “So, we’re doing this?”
 

“I’m in,” Nathan said. “Sloan?”

They were watching me expectantly.
 

With a huff, I dropped my shoulders in resignation. “Let’s go to Texas.”

* * *

The next morning, as I brushed my teeth in front of the mirror, Warren came into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. A dizzying current of electricity flowed through me as he dragged his warm lips down the side of my neck. For a second, my eyes rolled backward. Only Warren Parish could turn dental hygiene into foreplay.

I spat out my toothpaste because moaning is much less seductive when foaming at the mouth. “Mmm…Good morning.”

“Good morning.” His voice was low and rough. “How did you sleep?”

I squirmed against him. “When you
let me
sleep, it was peaceful.” I leaned over to rinse my mouth out with water, and I could almost feel his blood pressure rise. I straightened and smiled at him in the mirror. “This is nice. You being here when I wake up.”

He slipped the strap of my tank-top down and kissed my shoulder. “You just like that I make coffee,” he said, smiling against my skin.

“And you can cook,” I added as I wiped my mouth with the hand towel.
 

His hands slid across my hip bones. “Stay home today.”

“You’re seriously going to get me fired,” I said, laughing.

He rested his head on my shoulder. “That’s OK. I’ll take care of you.”

I looked over at him. “You don’t have a job, remember?”
 

“Good point.”
 

I put my toothbrush in its holder and turned around in his arms. “I tell you what. I’m going to go to the office and turn in my vacation paperwork. Then I’m going to work really hard to get done early today, and tonight, we can stay home. Just us. No parents. No Nathan. No interruptions.”

“I like that idea, but I like the idea of carrying you back to bed right now even more.” He leaned in to kiss me, but I blocked his lips with my hand. His eyes popped open and then narrowed in frustration.

I shook my head. “Don’t even go there,” I said. “I can’t walk into work late and then ask for paid time off.”

Warren growled and bit the palm of my hand. “Well, you’d better hurry up and get out of here before I decide to not let you leave.” He tightened his arms around me. “We didn’t get to have our talk last night.”

I held up my hands. “That was Nathan’s fault. Not mine.” After successfully wrenching myself free from his grip, I walked to my closet. “Do you want to talk about it while I get ready?”

Shaking his head, he returned to the bedroom. “No. We’ll talk about it tonight.”

“What are you going to do today?” I asked over my shoulder.

The bedsprings squeaked under his weight. “I guess I’ll look into flights and hotels for our trip.”
 

I pulled a white blouse and a pencil-line black skirt down off their hangers. “Do you want me to leave my credit card so you can book them?”

He laughed. “I may be out of a job, but that doesn’t mean I need your credit card.”

I picked up a pair of black high heels off the floor. “I have $172 in my bank account to last me till payday. I wouldn’t be able to eat without a job.”

I carried the day’s wardrobe to my room and stumbled a bit as I took in the sight of the shirtless mercenary who was reclined against my fluffy pillows.

Warren was oblivious to my stupor. “I have a tad bit more than that in savings. I banked my combat pay over the years in case I ever needed it.” He winked at me, almost recovering my full attention to what he was saying. “I think we’ll be OK.”

A part of me—the shallow part that liked to buy shoes—wanted to ask how much money we were talking about, but I didn’t dare. The other part of me was so distracted by the Adonis stretched across my comforter that I dropped my clothes onto the floor when I meant to put them on the bed.

He chuckled. “You missed.”

“Shut up.” I bent and gathered them up.

Refusing to look at my boyfriend—or his perfect set of abs—I spread my outfit across the foot of the bed before turning toward my dresser. Inside the top drawer, where I stashed my mostly-fake jewelry, I found the silver angel pin Kayleigh Neeland had given me after Nathan and I rescued her. Like a talisman to keep me safe, I fixed it to my blouse, as I did every morning.

When my clothes were in order, I retrieved some clean underwear from the dresser before returning to the bathroom and turning on the shower. I stuck my head into the bedroom and looked at Warren. “I’m locking this door.”

“You don’t trust me?”
 

I laughed. “Not even a little bit.”

* * *

My brain was everywhere but on my work that day, and the minutes seemed to be ticking backward each time I glanced at the clock. I thought about Rachel Smith. I thought about Texas with Nathan and Warren. And, most of all, I thought about whatever big talk Warren was planning for that evening. I worked through lunch in hopes of leaving early, and despite all my mental wandering, I had everything completed by four. As I packed up my things, my boss stepped into my office.
 

Mary Travers was waving a sheet of paper in her tiny hand like a surrender flag. “Vacation request, huh?”
 

I smiled from behind my desk. “Yeah. I’m heading to Texas for a little break.”

She handed me the paper that was stamped APPROVED in bright red letters. “You should be aware, there’s a rumor going around Human Resources that Detective McNamara asked for next week off as well. There’s speculation that it may be more than a coincidence.” She was grinning as she peered at me over her brown glasses.

I laughed and put the paper on top of the stack in my inbox. “Detective McNamara is going with me, but I can assure you it’s nothing to gossip about. We’re just friends.”

She put a hand on her hip. “I may be old enough to be your mother, but I’m not senile or blind. You’ve had a thing for that boy since the first day he started work here.”

I folded my hands on my desk. “My boyfriend, Warren, is going with us,” I said. “Do you remember him? I introduced you at the Mexican restaurant a while ago.”

“Tall, dark, and handsome?” she asked.

I nodded. “That’s Warren.”

“I heard my name,” Warren said, walking into my office behind Mary.
 

She spun around so fast I thought she might fall down. She clasped her hands over her heart. “You startled me!”

I laughed and covered my mouth with my hand.
 

Warren smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “I apologize,” he said. “It’s good to see you again, Ms. Travers.”

“The same to you, Warren.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Have a good night, Sloan.”

I waved. “You too,” I called out as she left.

Warren leaned over my desk and pressed his lips to mine. My heart fluttered. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said when he pulled away.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He sat down in one of the chairs opposite my desk and relaxed with his arms on the armrests. “Can I not come see you at work?”

I tilted my head to the side. “Of course you can, but you never do. What’s up?”

He looked down at his watch. “I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I would come by and pressure you to leave early.”

I smiled. “Well, you’re in luck. I was just getting ready to head out of here.” I pushed my chair back. “Do you want to go out?”

He shook his head. “No. I want to go home.” He was looking out the window.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

His eyes snapped to mine. “Yeah. I’m OK.” He stood up. “You ready now?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.” I stood and picked up my laptop case and purse. “What about dinner?”

He took my bag from me and winked. “I’ll worry about dinner.”

I kissed his lips again. “Best roommate ever.”

When we got home, I changed into sweats while he started cooking. In the few minutes it took me to swap out my clothes, the first floor of my house was flooded with the savory aroma of curry mixed with cinnamon. I shuffled barefoot into the kitchen and slipped my arms around Warren’s waist. I stretched on my tip-toes to peek over his shoulder. “Want some help?”