Grim Rising (Aisling Grimlock Book 7) Page 7

  “Dude, get off.” I shoved him, rolling my eyes when he made a hissing noise, as if he was expelling gaping mouthfuls of air. “You ran into me. Get off!” I pushed against his chest as hard as I could, but he refused to move, instead placing more of his weight on my achy frame.

  “What is your deal?” I tried pushing a second time, but the man only burrowed closer, causing me to slant my eyes toward his neck. He had a weird mark, like a tattoo gone wrong, but I couldn’t make it out. I forced myself to focus on his face and I jolted when I found a pair of milky white eyes staring back. At one time they might’ve been brown, but they were almost completely white now. Instead of apologizing or acting confused, the man gnashed his teeth as he made slurping noises near my neck.

  “What the … ?”

  I reacted instinctively, lashing out with my forearm, making solid contact with the man’s chin. I heard the distinctive sound of the man’s teeth colliding – something I was familiar with from when I used to wrestle my brothers as a kid – and shoved with everything I had to dislodge the heavy interloper.

  Griffin, clearly not understanding the situation, appeared mildly concerned as he reached for me. “Are you okay?”

  I let him pull me to my feet, my eyes never moving from the man who now lay prone on the pavement. “I think there’s something wrong.”

  “I’ll say there’s something wrong.” Griffin brushed the snow from my back. “You just got felt up by a potential drunk and you didn’t even swear once. You’re growing as a person. Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I asked you a question.” Griffin grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look at him. “Are you hurt? Tell me what hurts. Do you need to go to the hospital? Do you need me to carry you?”

  He was still getting over my last mishap, the one that left me unconscious in the hospital for several days and him a ravaged mess of a man who didn’t leave my side, so I took pity on him. “I’m okay.” I lowered my voice a bit. “He knocked the wind out of me and you’re going to have to massage my back later. Other than that, I’m fine.”

  Griffin didn’t look convinced. “Would you tell me if you weren’t?”

  “I have no idea, but since I’m fine, it’s a moot point.” I rubbed my sore elbow and shifted my attention to the man on the ground. “He’s another story.”

  “I noticed.” Griffin slid around me and bent over to give our new friend some pointed attention. “Is he drunk? Are you drunk, buddy? If so, you need to get up and go home. You’ll freeze to death if you try to sleep out here.”

  Griffin had handled his fair share of drunken fools over the years. I had a feeling this guy was different.

  “I’m not sure he’s drunk.” I narrowed my eyes as I stared at the mark on his neck. Now, that I had more time to look, it didn’t look like a tattoo as much as a recent injury. It was as if someone had carved a childish snake with lines through it – or maybe a gang symbol for all I knew – into his neck.

  “Well, he certainly wasn’t walking like a sober person,” Griffin argued. “He was lurching a bit. I saw him when we were walking but just figured he’d imbibed a bit too much wine or something over dinner and was on his way home.”

  Royal Oak was a happening hot spot in southeastern Michigan. Many residents lived close enough to the downtown area that they could walk to and from area bars and restaurants. That was a good thing because parking in the small enclave is an abominable nightmare at times … and that’s when it’s not snowing.

  “He didn’t smell as if he’d been drinking,” I argued, shifting so I could be closer to Griffin and get a better look at the suddenly still man. “In fact, he looked as if something else was wrong with him.”

  “What?”

  “I … .” I wasn’t sure how to answer. Explaining what I saw in the man’s eyes might make Griffin think I was crazy. I opted to split the difference on the truth. “His eyes didn’t look right.”

  “Really?” Griffin rested his knees on the snow and leaned closer, tapping the man’s shoulder in an effort to get a reaction. “Sir? Sir, can you hear me?”

  No response.

  “Sir, if you’re in pain or injured, you need to tell me where it hurts,” Griffin prodded. “We can call an ambulance … or perhaps get you a warm place to sleep for the night if that’s what you need.”

  It took me a moment to realize Griffin believed the man to be homeless. An extended look at his clothes, the tattered hems and ripped elbows, made me think Griffin was on to something. Perhaps I was so distracted by what happened I didn’t get a chance to smell the alcohol. Maybe he was blind drunk and I imagined what I saw in his eyes. Maybe it was so cold that it dampened the scent of the alcohol.

  They were all possibilities, yet none of them felt right. “Griffin.”

  “Just a second, baby.” Griffin put some effort into rolling the man, and when he slid onto his back, his eyes staring at the darkening sky and yet seeing nothing, I had to tamp down the overwhelming urge to vomit … and then run. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  Griffin’s expression twisted as he leaned forward and pressed his ear to the man’s chest.

  “Is he … ?”

  “Dead?” Griffin flicked his eyes to me. “I think so.”

  Oh, well, and I thought the day was looking up. “What do we do?”

  “Call the police.”

  “You are the police.”

  “This isn’t my jurisdiction.”

  That made sense. I dug in my pocket for my phone, working overtime to control my shaking fingers. “What do I tell the 911 operator when she answers?”

  “Tell her we have a Detroit police officer on the scene and what looks to be a DOA on the sidewalk. I have no idea what he died from, but … just call. We need some help here.”

  THE ROYAL OAK Police Department was located right around the corner, so it didn’t take officers long to arrive. Griffin’s precinct was in downtown Detroit, but he clearly recognized the officers who joined us, and I was suddenly odd woman out as the cops greeted one another.

  “Detective Taylor.”

  “Detective Green.” Griffin was grim as he stood. “I haven’t seen you around in a couple of months.”

  “It’s been busy over here,” Green said. “You know how it goes. What do we have here?”

  “I’m not sure.” Griffin rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “We were leaving the Italian restaurant and walking down the street – just talking and stuff – and this guy ran into Aisling. He took her down.

  “At first I thought he was drunk, but he didn’t respond once I got Aisling up,” he continued. “When I got closer to check, well, he’s clearly dead.”

  “Yeah. I noticed that.” Green’s eyes flicked to mine before focusing on the uniformed officer kneeling next to the dead man. “Did anything else happen?”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning was he active after falling on your woman?”

  Woman? Did he just refer to me as his woman, as if I was Griffin’s property? Ugh. I hate cops. The only cop I can tolerate is Griffin. I’m not joking. I hate them all … and that’s only partly because I was arrested several times in my youth.

  “I don’t know.” Griffin turned to me. “Aisling, this is Mark Green. Mark, Aisling. Did he say anything to you when he landed? I didn’t even ask. All I heard was you telling him to get off.”

  Hmm. This was a sticky situation. Did they not notice the guy’s milky eyes? Wait … was I the only one who saw that? Crap. I didn’t like that one bit. “He didn’t speak.” My voice was unnaturally phlegmy so I cleared my throat. “He didn’t say words or anything. He made kind of a growling sound, maybe even a little hiss, although that might’ve been because he was in pain.”

  “He landed on top of you,” Griffin pointed out. “You should’ve been in a lot more pain than him. You went down hard.”

  “Tell that to my back,” I muttered.

  Griffin absently shifted his hand to my back to rub
it. “I’ll get you in a warm bath when we get home.”

  “Did you look at his eyes?” the uniform asked, causing me to exhale heavily with unveiled relief. At least I wasn’t the only one to notice. That meant I wasn’t going crazy … not that I thought I was or anything.

  “What is that?” Green asked, leaning closer. “Are those … cataracts?”

  “They’re not like any cataracts I’ve ever seen,” Griffin noted. “I didn’t really look too closely at his eyes until you mentioned it. I thought it was the snow or something, maybe the way the light hit them.”

  “That’s definitely not normal.” Green flicked his eyes to me. “And he didn’t say anything?”

  No, he just made hilarious “I’m going to eat you” noises and then went for my throat. Hmm. I probably shouldn’t mention that part. “No.” I shook my head. “Like I said, he made growling noises, but I guess those could have been pain noises. He wouldn’t get off, and I panicked a bit because he was moving his mouth around my throat, so I hit him in the jaw. Then I pushed him off and … well … he’s dead.”

  Green’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “You hit him?”

  “He was on top of me and wouldn’t get off.” I shouldn’t have to defend myself here. I was the wronged party. I did it all the same. “I thought he was trying to attack me or something.”

  “It’s okay.” Green’s voice was gentle, reassuring. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

  Oh, geez. Did I mention that I hate it when men talk down to me? I opened my mouth, something snarky on the tip of my tongue, but Griffin silenced me with an imperceptible shake of his head as he slipped his arm around my shoulders.

  “She’s just cold,” Griffin offered. “She doesn’t like the snow.”

  “Who does?” Green forced a smile. “We’ll get the medical examiner down here and see what he says. Do you mind going into the coffee shop over there with me and waiting? I have to ask you a few more questions.”

  I absolutely minded. Griffin, however, was resigned.

  “No problem.”

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE you’re getting married.” Green’s questions consisted of five minutes of lame “who did what and when” before he turned his full attention to Griffin and me. He seemed dumbfounded by the news that we were engaged. “I pegged you as a bachelor for life.”

  Griffin slid me a sidelong look as I warmed my hands on my mug of coffee. “I thought there was a distinct possibility that I was a bachelor for life, too, but once I saw Aisling I was a changed man.”

  “Oh, whatever.” I didn’t bother to hide my eye roll.

  “Love at first sight, eh?” Green’s eyes filled with jocularity. “Did you take one look at her and say ‘That’s the woman for me?’”

  “Kind of,” Griffin replied. “I don’t really believe in love at first sight, but we became close pretty quickly. I think we were lucky enough to recognize that we belonged together without a lot of drama.”

  I had no idea whose life he thought he’d been living, but our relationship (and exterior forces) had been nothing but drama since we met.

  “What about you, Aisling? What do you do for a living?” Green turned his expectant gaze to me.

  “I work for my father.”

  “They do a lot of business with antiques and antiquities,” Griffin interjected. “You know, estate sales and the like. She’s usually traveling all over the tri-county area while working most days.”

  “Sounds exciting.” Green smiled. “It’s like you get to go garage sale shopping every day of the week. My girlfriend would love that.”

  His girlfriend sounded like an idiot. “Yes, it’s one big shopping extravaganza every single day. Whee!”

  Griffin squeezed my knee under the table to silence me. “Aisling,” he warned. “You’re being rude.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Green said, his grin never slipping. “She’s had a trying ordeal. I mean … a random guy on the sidewalk knocked her down and then he died on top of her. That’s got to be disconcerting. It’s not as if it happens every day.”

  What was disconcerting was two men – one of whom I was engaged to – talking about me as if I wasn’t even sitting in the same booth with them. That was both disconcerting and annoying. “How much longer do we have to stay?”

  “Are you anxious to get your guy home?” Green asked. “Do you have plans for him?”

  “Yes, I’m going to lock him in the basement,” I deadpanned. “Then I’m going to put ribbons in his hair and make him watch chick flicks.”

  “We don’t have a basement,” Griffin pointed out.

  “My father’s basement.” Because I was convinced my father’s basement was infested with snakes, that was a terrible threat. Griffin didn’t look bothered in the least.

  “How much longer do you think the medical examiner will be?”

  “No idea,” Green shrugged. “I’ll check. You guys wait here.”

  “We’ll do that.” Griffin kept his hand light and easy on my knee until Green disappeared outside. Then he began to squeeze to the point where I had to shift because it was becoming uncomfortable. “Why are you treating him like that?”

  I blinked three times in rapid succession, debating how to answer. “Didn’t you see that guy’s eyes?”

  “I did. Do you know what caused that?”

  I had no idea. I had a few theories, though. “He was probably possessed.”

  Griffin’s lips twitched. “Like … by the devil?”

  “I’m a freaking reaper who sends souls to heaven, hell and whatever falls between,” I hissed, keeping my voice low. “Is that so hard to imagine?”

  Griffin balked. “I … did not think about it that way.” He turned serious. “Do you know what caused that?”

  “No, but what I didn’t tell your friend is that I only hit that guy because he was trying to bite my neck,” I supplied. “He was making weird animal noises and trying to chew on me. That’s why I hit him.”

  “So … what? You think he’s a vampire or something.”

  I snorted. “No, but I think there was definitely something wrong with him. Maybe he had rabies. Or, maybe he ran into Angelina and had untreated syphilis and went crazy. Oh, geez. Why couldn’t I think of that one when I saw her earlier?”

  Griffin was gentle as he rubbed the back of my neck, his fingers tracing a soothing pattern as he stared into my eyes. “I can see you’re worked up. I need you to remain calm. The last thing we need is for Green to think you’re nuts.”

  “What about you? Do you think I’m nuts?”

  “I think I love you and if you say you saw something then I believe you.” Griffin smiled at the waitress as she passed, waiting to make sure she was out of earshot before continuing. “You can’t mention that stuff to Mark.”

  “Why do you think I didn’t mention it?”

  Griffin tilted his head to the side, considering. “I don’t know what to make of it. The medical examiner should have some additional information tomorrow. I guess we’ll have to wait until then.”

  That sounded fairly unbearable to me. “Great. Does that mean we can leave?” I dug in the booth for my coat. “You promised me a massage and a bath, and I really want to get out of here.”

  “We just have to wait for Mark to come back and cut us loose,” Griffin countered. “It won’t take long.”

  “Well … whoopee.”

  “I can tell already you’re going to be a pain in the ass the entire night,” Griffin muttered, shaking his head and plastering a fake smile on his face when Green walked back into the coffee shop. “Anything?”

  “Well, we’ve got something, but I’m not sure what to make of it.” Green rubbed his chin, his eyes troubled.

  “Just tell us,” Griffin said. “If Aisling’s blow did anything to him, it wasn’t on purpose. In fact … .”

  I was apparently slow on the uptake, because it took me longer than it should have to realize that Griffin was suddenly terrified the cops would try to ta
ke me in. It hadn’t even occurred to me. Well, crud on a cracker. That was just one more thing I didn’t want to fret about given everything going on. Now I had something real to worry about, and it was going to totally throw me off my game.

  “I’m not sure her blow did anything,” Green said. “In fact, I’m not sure what to make about any of this. The medical examiner is taking custody of the body. You guys are free to go. Um … I’ll be in touch when I have more information.”

  That couldn’t be right. He was acting too weird. “What does the medical examiner think killed him?”

  Green held his hands palms out and shrugged. “He doesn’t know. Whatever it was, though, killed him about a month ago. Now, I’m not sure what you saw, but that body out there has been dead for quite some time. Do you want to revise your story?”

  I risked a glance at Griffin, flabbergasted.

  “No, we don’t want to revise our story.” Griffin was firm. “We told you what happened. There have to be cameras on the street that caught it, too.”

  “We’ll definitely look into that,” Green said. “Until then … I don’t know what to tell you. It’s going to remain an open case. We’ll start investigating as soon as we get the final autopsy results. That’s the best I have to offer.”

  It wasn’t much. “So what does that mean?”

  “It means you go home,” Green replied. “We’ll call you when we have more information.”

  And just like that we were dismissed. Griffin didn’t look even remotely happy about it.

  7

  SEVEN

  I was chilled to the bone by the time we got home, the walk to Griffin’s vehicle and the drive back to the townhouse done almost completely in silence.

  I felt Griffin’s eyes on me as I kicked off my boots and stripped out of my heavy coat, sighing as I put away both rather than leaving them out. Griffin’s expression was hard to read, but I knew he was worried. I didn’t know how to ease that worry, so I didn’t even try.

  I needed to think. This entire thing was fantastical … and more than a little troubling.