The Accidental Mermaid (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 16) Page 11

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  “Jesus,” Nina muttered, looking around and squeezing Esther’s shoulder. “You okay, kiddo?”

  She reached up and patted Nina’s hand and nodded. “I’m fine. Grab a pile and start looking. I’m going to start digging through each room for a computer or laptop or whatever,” she said, never missing a beat.

  Tucker looked up from his pile of computer paper and watched as Esther directed Nina and Darnell to other stacks of paper so they could sift through them, but he wasn’t hopeful.

  He was overwhelmed, as overwhelmed as Esther herself—even though she was putting on a good show of pretending she wasn’t at all feeling the insurmountable pressure of digging through this mess.

  Her determination did something funny to his chest…tightened it…shifted his heart around in a way he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. In fact, he wasn’t comfortable with the way he was feeling about her, period.

  Undeniably, he’d been attracted to her from the start. That’s what had brought them to where they were now. But that his attraction had grown, that he wanted to reach out and touch her at every opportunity, was where his discomfort stemmed from.

  She was already in this mess deep enough. He wouldn’t drag her into it any further. But he’d date the hell out of her under any other circumstances.

  Deciding to see what he could find aside from what was visibly obvious, he followed the path that led to Gomez Sanchez’s kitchen and began opening cupboard doors. Despite the fact that he seemed to have an affliction for collecting paper, he was quite clean.

  There wasn’t much to speak of. A set of plates, and matching cups and bowls, some pots and pans that didn’t look like they’d had much use. A coffee maker buried behind yet more papers, some potholders, but nothing really of note.

  Surprisingly, the counters, the interior of the refrigerator, and the appliances were free of dirt and grease, suggesting Gomez kept health issues in mind, and he supposed, being a scientist, that would be a primary concern.

  How odd that he collected nothing but paper. It was clear he was a hoarder, but would this also be considered obsessive-compulsive?

  Sighing, he followed the path back into the living room, where Nina and Darnell had made space on the floor and sat, digging through the endless collection.

  “Dude,” she whispered to him when he sat on his haunches beside her. “We need reinforcements. We’ll never get through all this shit if we don’t get some help.”

  Tucker grimaced. He had to agree, so he nodded at this pale, frighteningly confrontational woman he hardly knew but rather liked, despite her constant state of agitation, and said, “I don’t think we’re going to find much, to be honest. Maybe the better place to start would have been his lab at Tecton.”

  “Tecton?” Darnell asked, tilting his head as he looked up from some pink tissue paper. “You mean that place over by H2O-Yo? That ol’ building, all steel and glass?”

  “That’s the one. That’s the lab where Gomez worked. I get the feeling he didn’t do much living in this space. Maybe he slept here, but his kitchen, despite the papers everywhere, is pretty clean. I don’t know how you could live here or where you’d sleep, but I feel like we’ve touched on something I don’t understand.”

  Esther poked her head out of the bedroom. “I don’t think he slept here either, and if he did, he slept with a bunch of these piles next to him. Yet, the bed is made. I don’t get it.”

  Tucker rose and attempted to make his way toward her, once more following the clear path Gomez had laid. “The kitchen’s the same way. It’s clean as a whistle except for the paper.”

  “Kiddo?” Nina called out. “You want me to call Marty and Wanda and have them come help? We’ll never get through this shit alone.”

  Esther held up a finger as he approached. “Hold that thought for just a minute, Nina. I think Tucker might be right, in that we’re wasting our time here. I don’t think my uncle did much living here at all. Either way, let me just give another quick skim of the bedroom and bath, and then maybe we should rethink this rifling through all those piles.”

  Nina gave her a thumbs-up and went back to sorting though another pile as Esther carefully made her way into the bedroom with Tucker behind her.

  She looked to him and pointed to the bed. “Can we move some of these piles so I can at least look under the bed? I’ve already scoured the nightstands and the dresser.”

  As he began to pick away at the paper, setting smaller piles on top of another batch of bigger ones, he watched Esther kneel down and push her way to the side of the bed. As she lay flat on her belly, he caught himself staring at her ass in her tight-fitting jeans and forced himself to look away.

  “Boxes,” she muttered. “There’s a bunch of boxes under here.” As she began to pull them out, she set them aside until she had them all. “Hey, you know, I was wondering about something while I was in here. Do you have any idea where they found my uncle? Was it here in his apartment or at his lab? I can’t believe I never thought to ask, but none of the articles I read about it say anything other than he committed suicide and, after last night, that he’s responsible for giving the go-ahead on the tainted water. In fact, they’re more focused on what you had to do with it than anything else.”

  “We fought hard to keep his name from the press, Esther, called in favors. You name it, we did it, because he was a valued friend to our company.”

  “It’s okay, Tucker. I believe you. I really do. Whoever leaked this sucks, but that’s neither here nor there now. So where was he when they found him?”

  “I believe he was found here in the bathroom, if I recall correctly.”

  He watched her swallow, watched the gamut of emotions play over her face. “By whom? Do you know?” she squeaked, her voice husky.

  Squatting on his haunches, he looked at her, her wide eyes brimming with tears, her thick hair falling in wisps about her pretty face. “I don’t know who found him. I only know the police told my father it was very clearly an overdose of sleeping pills.”

  She worried her lower lip before she said, “And no one asked the police or the medical examiner who’d found him?”

  Tucker scratched his head. He remembered the conversation with his father vividly. He remembered being called into his office. He remembered a feeling of dread, but couldn’t account for where it was coming from. And then his father had told him Gomez Sanchez had taken his life over this business with the tainted water.

  The police had asked him a few questions about Gomez’s state of mind due to their emails back and forth, but they hadn’t divulged anything pertinent to his suicide.

  It was the beginning of the end for him that day. After hearing that news, everything was a blur.

  “I don’t know. I just know he was found in the bathroom and that was because my father told me. After that, I was considered a part of this, and they locked me out of all conversation.”

  “Have the police contacted you about your connection to Gomez? Do they suspect you at all? I mean, when Detective Johns came by, I honestly thought he was coming for you. If I were a cop, after finding out all the information—and I’m not at all accusing you here, so don’t get bent out of shape. But with the money missing and my uncle dead, if I were a cop, I’d be thinking what you’re thinking—someone murdered him. But I’d think that someone was you.”

  Yeah. He’d thought that, too. He knew his days were numbered at this point, especially after that leak to the press. “No, the only contact I had with the police was about Gomez’s state of mind, but as this unfolds, I’m betting my days are numbered, for some questioning at the very least.”

  His words had her up and pushing her way past more piles to get into the bathroom, where she stopped in the doorway.

  “He was found in the bathroom? Are you sure?”

  He rose, fighting his way through the debris to get to her. “That’s what my father told me, just before he fired me and booted me out of the pod.”

 
Her shoulders sagged, but then she straightened. “I think we need to speak to the person who found him. I also think we need to hit the coroner’s office and find out what led them to rule this a suicide. I want to know what kind of drugs they found in his system, if he ever had a history of taking drugs. I want to talk to his doctor, if he had one. I want to know who this man was, because the more I think about this, and because I believe your story, the more I think someone hurt him. But I need to know the truth. Yet, I’m afraid to stir up any trouble because it’ll shine attention on you—which we don’t want.”

  He smiled at that. At least she believed him. For some crazy reason, that meant almost more than his father believing him.

  “Don’t think about me, Esther. Think about your uncle. If he was killed because he knew something, I want that person caught. Hell, I’ll go with you.”

  She winced. “Are you sure, Tuck? It’ll only draw attention to you.”

  But he nodded to confirm. He couldn’t ask her to hold off on finding out what happened for his own selfish reasons. Then he remembered something. He’d been so distracted by the press showing up at her house, he’d forgotten to tell her about Gomez’s phone call. Shit.

  “Have I mentioned your uncle called me the night he supposedly took his life?”

  “What?” she said in disbelief. “He called you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “He didn’t get through, and he didn’t leave a voice mail, but I have the log on my phone right here.” He pulled out his phone to show her.

  “Did you tell that to the police?”

  “I did, when they asked me whether I knew if he was depressed or not. They thought maybe he was reaching out to me. I think that, too. I think he was reaching out because he knew something. Because he didn’t sign off on those tests, Esther. I feel it in my damn gut. I think that’s what that phone call was about.”

  “Damn,” she muttered, her eyes welling with tears.

  Putting a hand to her shoulder, knowing he shouldn’t but doing it anyway, he asked, “What? Talk to me.”

  She shook her head and swiped a finger under her eye. “I just wish I’d known him better so I could gauge whether he was the kind of person who’d take his own life. I mean, it’s obvious he had some issues from the stacks of paper. I’m not sure why he only collected paper, but I feel incredibly guilty about taking this all at face value and not looking deeper. But you can bet your ass, I’m not only going to Tecton, but to the police. I want some answers.”

  Again, knowing he shouldn’t, he did it anyway—pulled her into his arms as she buried her face in his shirt. He let his chin rest on the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her fruity shampoo. “Please don’t feel guilty. Your uncle was just a story to you as a kid. I know there isn’t much I can say to make you feel any better, but we’ve all got that one relative who’s a little left of center, Esther.”

  She snorted against his chest and shook her head. “Do you have a crazy mermaid in your pod?”

  “Someday, when we have more time, I’m going to tell you all about my crazy aunt Nita and her collection of seashells.”

  She tweaked his chest playfully. “Shut up. You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  He chuckled, liking how she fit against him. “I’m not even a little saying that to make you feel better. She has a two-thousand-square-foot house with three bedrooms, all of which are dedicated to her seashells. Every imaginable type of seashell in every imaginable art form. Wind chimes, picture frames, the list goes on. In fact—”

  Esther silenced him with her lips. She didn’t give him any warning, she didn’t change positions, she just reached up, grabbed his face, and laid one on him.

  Chapter 11

  She didn’t know what had come over her. She wasn’t known to be terribly impulsive, but hearing his words, knowing he could relate, had made her very sore heart come alive.

  And it didn’t hurt that he had the best lips ever. Like, bar none, the best lips she’d ever locked with.

  They were firm in all the right places, soft, gentle, forceful. They were everything, and as he dipped his tongue into her mouth, she saw stars. Literally saw stars; they made her heart crash against her ribs

  And as her hands crept upward and around his strong neck and her fingers threaded through his soft, thick hair, as his thick arms encompassed her, she almost stopped breathing. Her stomach plunged to her toes, her knees went soft and buttery, her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head.

  Until she heard, “Excuse me, but can you please put Big Fish’s tonsils back where they belong and fucking join us in the living room?” Nina stuck her face between theirs and planted a hand on each of their cheeks, pulling their lips apart.

  Esther hopped back like she’d been burned, her cheeks going bright red when she realized what she’d done. But he’d been so sweet and understanding, and he’d related to her, and she’d lost her fool mind.

  Taking another step backward, she almost stumbled on a pile of papers, but Tucker grabbed her. Her head was reeling from that kiss—that luscious, hot, mind-melding kiss—but she managed to find some focus with Nina leering down at her. “Did you find something?”

  She grinned then shook her head, her charcoal eyes peering into Esther’s. “No. Not a GD thing so far, but Whiny and Cranky are here and they want to know where you want them to start. So quit looking for each other’s lungs by way of your tongues and get your asses out there.” With those words, she cackled and turned, weaving her way back out of the bedroom.

  She looked up at Tuck, his eyes darker, his lips still flushed from her kiss, and she wanted to do it again. But she had to remember she was only hysterical bonding. “I’m sorry.”

  He used his thumb to rub the outer corner of her lips and smiled his delectable smile. “I’m not.”

  “You should be.”

  “Why would I be sorry a beautiful woman kissed me?”

  He thought she was beautiful?

  Stop that right now, Esther!

  “Because it was wrong of me to kiss you. The circumstances are all wrong.”

  He grabbed her fingers in a loose hold and kissed each tip. “Well, I admit, it’s not exactly ambiance central here, but I’m okay if you’re okay.”

  She frowned at the shivers he evoked along her skin. “I’m not okay. What I just did was called hysterical bonding.”

  He paused, but only momentarily before he resumed kissing her fingertips as he looked at her over her hand with a facetious smile. “Say again?”

  She sighed, hoping it didn’t sound breathy, but to note, she wasn’t pulling her fingers from his lips like he was Satan eating her flesh off, either. “It’s called hysterical bonding. When a couple is in a stressful situation, they sometimes turn to one another for comfort.”

  “I don’t feel hysterical,” he assured her with confidence.

  She pulled her hand away from his lips, due to the distraction, and inhaled. “You are, you just don’t know it,” she insisted.

  “Nope. I’m quite un-hysterical, actually.”

  She twisted a strand of stray hair around her finger. “Is that even a word?”

  He shrugged and smiled. “I have no idea, I just know I don’t feel at all hysterical. Good, yes. I feel quite good, actually. But not at all hysterical.”

  “Well, here’s something to chew on while you’re not hysterical. Sometimes you don’t recognize hysterical bonding when it’s happening. It’s usually reserved for married couples—and a spouse who cheats. But what I just did was definitely a branch off the tree of hysterical bonding.”

  Tucker moved in a bit closer, making her cheeks flush hot again. “Do you feel hysterical?”

  “I feel stupid.”

  “Because?”

  “Because I just face planted you with my lips, Tucker. I don’t do things like that.”

  He mocked a serious face. “And why did you do that? Face plant me with your lips.”

  “Because you were being so nic
e and…” And you’re super sexy. Duh, Fish-man!

  Tucker made a big to-do about giving her words thought before he said, “So, do you kiss everyone who’s nice to you the way you kissed me? I mean, there was tongue and everything, Esther. That’s almost like we’re engaged or something. Now, I’d like to think you reserve that for a really good kiss, but how would I know? We hardly know each other.”

  She giggled, fighting a snort. “What kind of question is that?”

  “I’d say an honest one, considering your alleged hysteria.”

  Esther waved a finger at him. “I’m telling you, Tucker Pearson, that’s what this was. In the meantime, look up hysterical bonding. You’ll see it applies. And now, I’m going to take myself and my out-of-control lips back into the living room and pretend we weren’t just caught making out in my uncle’s bathroom.”

  “Okay, but I’m telling you. I don’t feel at all hysterical.” And then he dropped a quick kiss on her lips before she could turn and fight her way out of the bedroom before she did something stupider, like ask him to marry her.

  As she made her way back to the voices in the living room, she found Wanda and Marty had joined them and they were all still sifting.

  Putting her hands on her hips, she looked at the sprawling mess and said, “I think this is a waste of time, guys. I don’t think the answer lies here. I think it lies with Tecton and/or the coroner. Maybe the people my uncle worked with. I guess I was so caught up in my own life, I didn’t think to dig deeper and wonder how this all went down. My uncle’s attorney called and said he’d taken his life, and I… I don’t know what I thought, but I was careless, and I feel like an ass that I didn’t consider looking into this. But now I want to know what the hell’s going on, and they’ll have to tell me because I’m my uncle’s only living relative.”

  Marty smiled up at her from her place on the floor, her eyes less hazy since last night, her hair up in a messy bun, her leggings and boots as fashionable as the woman herself. “I’d lean toward you’re right, honey, but I’m afraid to abandon this and find out later we missed something. So, grab a seat, Little Mermaid.” She patted the space next to her.