Grave Holiday (A Maddie Graves Mystery Book 9) Page 7

  “That somehow makes me want to try.”

  Nick’s smile was sloppy. “Every single day I think I can’t love you any more than I already do. Every single day you prove me wrong.”

  “I guess we have that in common.”

  “I WANT TO punch her in her stupid face.”

  An hour later, instead of being relaxed and filled to the brim with chocolaty goodness, Maddie was furious as she glared at Marla Proctor. The woman wasn’t even trying to hide her overt flirting as she threw herself at John in front of the ornate Blackstone Bay tree. Unfortunately, instead of fancying herself above the action, Christy dived in headfirst and seemed to be matching Marla flirty strut for flirty strut.

  “Are you talking about Marla or Christy?” Nick asked, legitimately curious. He was almost as annoyed watching the spectacle – which John was eating up – as Maddie was being forced to bear witness to it.

  “I kind of want to punch both of them,” Maddie admitted. “Marla because she’s Marla, of course.”

  “That goes without saying.”

  “I kind of want to punch Christy, too,” Maddie said. “She’s better than this. She’s acting like a fool. If I were in her position I would kick John in the … you know … and tell him to pull his head out of his butt before storming off.”

  Nick smirked at the visual. “I guess my brother is lucky that Christy isn’t you. He seems thrilled with the attention. He was always an attention whore, though. He never could get enough of it. He was always jealous and accused me of manipulating my parents because I was the baby.”

  “You did manipulate your parents,” Maddie said. “That’s neither here nor there, though. What can he possibly be thinking? He knows Marla is meaner than a snake and she’s actually colder to cuddle against, if you want to know the truth.”

  “Oh, yeah? How do you know that?”

  “Word on the street.”

  Nick chuckled. “Okay, that did it. We need to be done here. I’m ready to start kissing … and then mosey our butts home to finish up in our very warm bed.”

  Maddie wasn’t opposed to the suggestion but that didn’t stop her from glancing toward the darkened pathway that led to the spot where Mike died. “We need to … .”

  “I know.” Nick gripped her hand tightly as he ushered her toward the sidewalk. “We’ll hit that spot after I get my kiss.”

  “Just a kiss?”

  Nick shrugged as he tugged Maddie toward the mistletoe. “I figure we’ll start there and see what happens.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Maddie said, offering a strange man she’d never seen before a small smile as he moved past them on the sidewalk. “If Mike’s not here, though, I’m almost out of ideas. I’ll try again tomorrow, but after that … .”

  “You can only do what you can do,” Nick said, inclining his chin toward the man by way of friendly greeting. “Let’s get a move on, though. It’s getting chilly.”

  THE STRANGER blinked several times in rapid succession. She’d looked right at him and didn’t so much as flinch. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d looked right through him.

  He didn’t know what he expected, some spark of recognition maybe. She had to know what he was, who he was. She barely glanced at him, though. She was much more interested in her boyfriend. In fact, as far as the stranger could tell, she only had eyes for her boyfriend whenever they were near one another. He’d been watching them for two days and they were so enamored with one another they didn’t notice anything outside of their tiny bubble.

  That closeness was going to prove difficult, if not impossible, to overcome. He needed time to think because he was fairly certain things would go south if the boyfriend was present when he approached Maddie Graves. He’d only done a bit of cursory digging, but everybody he spoke to made one thing very obvious: Nick Winters would die for Maddie Graves, and he would kill to protect her.

  The stranger wasn’t keen on forcing either of those issues. He had time. He could wait. But how long would it be necessary?

  8

  Eight

  “Oh, there’s Marcia and Greg now,” John teased the next morning as Nick and Maddie strolled into the police station. “Are you going to break out in song and tell us about your sunshiny day?”

  Maddie’s face was blank as she glanced at Nick. “I don’t get it.”

  “He’s insulting us for being cute and cuddly,” Nick explained. “It’s a Brady Bunch joke, which shows just how lame he is. Ignore him.”

  “That negative attention thing again?”

  Nick smirked. “Exactly.” He kissed her cheek before releasing her hand and focusing on John. “You look pretty spry for a guy who was balancing two women last night. I would’ve thought for sure that you’d be dragging this morning from all of the excitement.”

  “Ooh, intrigue,” Dale teased, handing Nick a mug of coffee before heading toward his desk. “Maddie, I didn’t get you any coffee because I figured you were only stopping in, but if you want some you know where the pot is.”

  “I’m good,” Maddie said, flashing a smile at Dale before glaring at John. She was unbelievably ticked off at him and she was in no mood for games. “I’m going to head over to the festival in a few minutes. I’ll get some hot chocolate while I’m there.”

  “I wish you would wait for me on that,” Nick said pointedly. “If you wait until after lunch, I can go with you. A Maddie hopped up on sugar is one of my favorite afternoon distractions.”

  Maddie blew him a kiss as she grinned. “I’ll be fine. It’s broad daylight. I’m not sleeping with half of the town. No one wants to hurt me.”

  Nick playfully swatted her rear end. “You’d better keep it that way. All of it.”

  “Oh, and I was looking forward to all of the nonstop flirting in my future,” Maddie teased, her smile light and pleasing as she gave Nick a quick hug and moved toward the door. Her gaze was chilly as it skimmed over John. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  “I’ll text you about meeting up for lunch,” Nick called out.

  Maddie merely waved as she disappeared through the door. Once she was gone, John leveled a questioning look on Nick.

  “What’s her problem?”

  “I’m no expert on Maddie’s moods, but I’m going to guess you’re her problem,” Dale offered, smirking as John made an incredulous face.

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “What do you always do?” Nick challenged as he edged around his desk and flopped in his chair. “You have a perfectly good woman you’re supposed to be dating and instead you’re indulging whatever Marla Proctor is doing because you think it’s funny and you like the attention.”

  “Ah.” Dale nodded sagely. “Maddie is offended on behalf of her best friend.”

  “I’m Maddie’s best friend and I don’t care what he does,” Nick countered. “Maddie is going to make me care if you don’t rein it in, though.”

  “No, you’re Maddie’s former best friend,” Dale clarified. “I know you were best friends for years, but you’re dating now. A woman needs a best friend who doesn’t share her bed. That means Christy is her best friend.”

  Nick had no idea why, but the simple statement irked him. “Just because we’re living together, that doesn’t mean we’re still not best friends.”

  “Uh-huh.” Dale didn’t look convinced. “When she has a fight with her boyfriend, who does she run to? That’s right. She runs to her best friend. Son, she loves you more than anything, but you can’t be everything to someone. She needs a best friend. Despite all of the arguing, John is your best friend now because he’s the one you talk to when you’re having problems with Maddie. It’s the way of the world, my friend. You’re going to have to get used to it.”

  “Crud,” Nick muttered. He realized Dale was right and couldn’t help but be agitated. “How did that happen?”

  “I’m guessing you get more out of the deal now,” John said brightly. “When she was your best friend she didn’t sleep with you. I
think it’s worth it to give up a few chick talks to get the goods.”

  Nick made a disgusted face and extended an accusatory finger. “That right there! That’s why she’s ticked off at you. I’d watch out, too, because she is really mad.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” John shot back. “I was minding my own business when Marla came out of nowhere and … .”

  “And what?” Nick challenged. “Attempted to smother you with her boobs?”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say.” John said the words but the way his lips tipped up told Nick that he was enjoying his role as town heartthrob a little too much. “Women are more than just the sum of their parts. You should be ashamed of yourself for thinking otherwise.

  “I mean … poor Maddie,” he continued. “She deserves to be treated as a human being. She’s more than just a great pair of boobs … no matter how stupendous they are … and you should treat her like a real person. By the way, I’m sure they’re great. If you ever want to give me a description, I would be more than willing to listen.”

  Nick’s expression was murderous. “What did you just say?”

  Dale sensed trouble almost immediately and pressed his hand to John’s chest to push him back in case he tried to poke Nick even harder. “Son, I wouldn’t push him on the Maddie issue.”

  “I was just kidding,” John said, although he swallowed hard when he saw the serious expression on Nick’s face. “It wasn’t meant as an insult.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how he took it,” Dale said. “I’m not exactly thrilled with the way you just spoke about her either. She’s a good girl.”

  John balked. “I was kidding! Can’t you guys take a joke?”

  “I don’t think it was funny,” Nick snapped. He was beyond annoyed. “You’re talking about the woman I’m going to marry. She’s going to be the mother of my children one day. Don’t ever speak about her that way again.”

  John’s face drained of color. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I took it a step too far. I always do. You know that. It’s a part of my charm.”

  “I’m not feeling even remotely charmed right now,” Nick said. “Not even a little.”

  “Okay, I apologize.” John held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not even sure how we got on this topic.”

  “I am,” Nick shot back. “You spent the entire evening playing Christy and Marla against one another because you like being the center of attention. It’s not amusing … or attractive … or even mildly entertaining. It’s hurtful.

  “Maddie jumped all over me last night because I didn’t take her side and give you a good talking to about your actions,” he continued. “I told her I wasn’t your keeper even though the real reason I didn’t say anything is because I knew you wouldn’t listen.”

  “I was just messing around,” John said, his expression darkening. “I’m not interested in Marla Proctor. The woman is a walking venereal disease.”

  “I know you’re not interested in Marla,” Nick said, his tone softening. “This isn’t high school, though. You don’t get a woman by making her jealous. Christy deserves more than games, and I’m telling you right now, if you play games with Christy, Maddie is going to hunt you down and make you cry.”

  “I’m not afraid of Maddie,” John scoffed.

  “You should be,” Nick said. “She’s got a flock of Pink Ladies ready to do her bidding and she can talk me into almost anything so I’m pretty sure I’ll end up beating you up if it comes to it. Just … show Christy some respect. You’re an adult, for crying out loud.”

  “I know I’m an adult. I was just … messing around.” John swallowed hard. “I like Christy. I really do.”

  “Then show her,” Nick said, rolling his neck to collect himself before focusing on the task at hand. “Now, back to business. What do we have on Mike Robinson?”

  MADDIE was in a mood as she strode through the winter wonderland. John’s blatant disrespect for Christy troubled her. Perhaps being with Nick spoiled her, but she wasn’t used to men playing with people’s emotions.

  Maddie scuffed the bottom of her boots against the pavement and trudged toward the spot where Mike Robinson died. She was going to give finding his ghost one more shot. If he didn’t appear, though, she was at a loss. Not everyone – even victims of violent death – remained behind. Sometimes they passed over with little fanfare, taking their secrets with them.

  Maddie pursed her lips as she kicked some of the dead leaves around the small area, not caring in the least if anyone witnessed her public pouting fit. She’d known John Winters since she was a small child and was used to his whims, but she really wanted to punch him right now. She knew deep down that he wasn’t purposely hurting anyone. That didn’t mean he wasn’t achieving a less than desired outcome.

  “You look sad. Perhaps you should sit on Santa’s lap and tell him the problem. I’m sure I can fix it.”

  Maddie jerked up her head at the sound of the voice, frowning when she caught sight of what could only be described as the world’s worst Santa Claus. Mike Robinson’s spirit, a cigar hanging from his lips and his coat unbuttoned so his beer gut could hang out, grinned like a madman as he stared at Maddie.

  Maddie stupidly blinked in rapid succession as she stared at him – and tried to ignore the fact that a ghost was smoking a cigar and clutching a beer – and wet her lips as she debated her next move.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” Mike crooned. “Cat got your tongue? Santa will make it all better. I promise.”

  Something snapped inside of Maddie at the words and she quickly came to her senses. Er, well, kind of. “You’re dead.”

  Mike glanced around, almost as if he was looking for hidden cameras and was convinced he was being filmed for a reality television show. After a moment of contemplation he leaned forward and grinned around the cigar. “I know. I figured that out when I walked through a few walls.”

  “You know?” Maddie felt as if she was a little slow on the uptake as she stared at him. “If you’re dead, that means you can’t drink beer and smoke a cigar.”

  Mike didn’t appear bothered by the observation. “Who makes those rules? I never got a rule book or anything – not that I was expecting one, mind you – but no one has swooped in from above with a lightning bolt to spank me so I’m pretty sure I’m okay.”

  “But … you’re dead,” Maddie repeated. “You can’t smoke. You can’t inhale anything. You can’t taste the beer.”

  “Have you ever been dead?” Mike challenged.

  “No.”

  “Then you don’t know what I can and can’t taste,” Mike pointed out.

  He had a point and still … . “Are you telling me you can taste that beer?” Maddie couldn’t help but be fascinated.

  “I think it comes down to your frame of mind,” Mike explained. “I love beer and a cigar and I can taste them even though I’m dead. Being on the other side isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.”

  “But … .” Maddie was dumbfounded. “I’ve never seen a ghost drinking beer before. This has to be some sort of mistake. I mean … did you wake up and discover you had a beer in your hand? Did you die with a beer in your hand? If you did, that means someone stole it. Your body wasn’t found with a beer.”

  “I’ll bet it was found with a flask in the pocket.” Mike didn’t appear bothered in the least that he was dead. In fact, he seemed almost jolly. “After spending a good five hours feeling sorry for myself because I watched the cops – one of them was your boyfriend, mind you – standing around my body, I decided to turn egg into nog and enjoy my newfound freedom.”

  “Freedom?”

  “This is a great gig,” Mike said. He seemed legitimately enthusiastic. “I can walk through walls. I can walk into anyone’s bathroom. Heck, I can walk into the locker room at the gym and no one can stop me. That’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

  It took Maddie a moment to register what he was saying, and when she did, she was worried. “You ca
n’t be serious.”

  “That gym on the south side of town has a very happening morning crowd,” Mike offered. “That Marla Proctor and Cassidy Dunham go there together. I would love to make them into a sandwich and … .”

  Maddie tuned out the rest of his vulgar description and fought the urge to roll her eyes. She was feeling violent thanks to John, but the idea of punching a ghost had never appealed more. Sadly, since Mike wasn’t corporeal, she couldn’t risk it. She didn’t want to be the idiot punching air next to a crime scene. She would never live it down.

  “I need you to focus,” Maddie gritted out, drawing Mike’s attention to her. “That means no more … perverted … stuff.”

  “It’s only perverted to some people,” Mike pointed out. “To other people it’s a normal day.”

  “Well, you’re bugging the crap out of me,” Maddie said. “I need to know if you’re aware of who killed you. Do you remember how you died?”

  “I don’t remember it. It’s all a big blur really. That could’ve been the whiskey I was drinking, though.”

  Maddie made a face. “Well, great.”

  “I know I was stabbed with one of those candy canes, though.” Mike pointed toward the walkway for emphasis. “I’m guessing that hurt.”

  “It probably did,” Maddie said, her heart softening a bit. “I don’t suppose you remember who did it, do you?”

  “I can’t remember anything other than leaving Santa’s workshop after the meeting,” Mike replied. “I was making plans to go to the bar and pick up a woman – women love me, did I ever tell you that? – and then I heard something behind me. That’s the last thing I remember.”

  “What about your dating habits?” Maddie prodded. “My understanding is that you were … not picky.”

  Mike shrugged. “Why be picky? The female form has many shapes and sizes and I love them all. You, for example, are smoking hot.” He circled Maddie, his eyes predatory. Even though he couldn’t touch her, Maddie felt dirty all the same. “How come we never hooked up when I was alive?”