Murder Under Cover

complain that they’d been coerced into something that wasn’t of their own free will?

Whoa, what was I smoking?

There was no such thing as a love spell, enchanted or otherwise. Clearly, Austin and Robin had just experienced a simultaneous moment of supreme lust. I could dig that.

My only concern now was that I didn’t want Robin to get hurt again. But there was nothing I could do about it except follow Derek’s lead and keep it simple and positive.

After all, Robin had looked so happy and Austin so downright determined when they left. Who was I to worry or judge or interfere? All I’d wanted to accomplish in bringing Robin to Dharma was for her to be safe, away from bad people and out of the city. I’d achieved that goal.

I turned to Dad, who still looked shell-shocked. Feeling about the same, I held out my wineglass. “More, please?”

“Good idea, Punkin,” he said, and filled everyone’s glasses with golden, bubbly liquid.

As we all recovered from the shock, Mom filled us in on what was happening around Dharma. We talked and laughed and enjoyed the view of the rolling green hills covered in vineyards, broken by picturesque thickets of gnarled oak trees.

Mom was particularly proud that Annie’s kitchenware store, Anandalla, had been written up in several cooking magazines. Annie Karastovsky was relatively new to Dharma. She was the long-lost daughter of my former bookbinding mentor, Abraham. The whole town, and especially Mom, had adopted her as their own.

Gabriel’s recuperation was another of Mom’s triumphs. The formerly mysterious stranger who had saved my life in a noodle shop on Fillmore Street in the city, Gabriel was still in Dharma after almost dying last month, when he was struck in the head by a killer’s bullet. That attack had led to a daring sting operation and the arrest of a murderer. Gabriel had recently moved into a bungalow a mile away from Mom and Dad. I was surprised to hear that he seemed to be enjoying the slower pace of life up here. In his spare time, he was helping out Guru Bob with his massive library project.

Guru Bob, by the way, was more properly known as Avatar Robson Benedict, the leader of the Fellowship for Spiritual Enlightenment and Higher Artistic Consciousness, the artsy Sonoma County commune my parents had joined years ago, back before the commune got rich from the grapevines they grew and the winery they built. Back before the commune property was incorporated and morphed into the charming town of Dharma. Back when we all lived in Airstream campers. Those were the good old days.

Mom regaled us with the antics of the Wiccans who lived in the next glen over and how they’d finally accepted her into their coven.

“Wait’ll they hear about the power of my love spell,” she said.

“Do you think they’ll elect you chief witch?” I asked.

She laughed. “Oh, sweetie, you make it sound like the PTA.” But her eyes glittered with intent as she added, “No, they’ll install me as grand raven mistress of the most high druidic pentangle, if they know what’s good for them.”

“Okay, now you’re scaring me.”

Finally, after securing Mom’s promise to call me with any news of Austin and Robin, Derek and I took off for the city, crossing the Golden Gate Bridge just before sunset.

As we wound our way through the Presidio, then onto Lombard until we reached Van Ness, my thoughts focused on Austin and Robin again. Were their paths about to merge for real? Or was it just that Mom’s ability to bust a love spell was more potent than we’d thought? Nope, I reminded myself. It wasn’t a love spell. Just some heavy-duty lust. Nothing wrong with that.

“Never a dull moment with your family,” Derek remarked as he parked the car in my building’s garage. We laughed about the afternoon as we stepped inside the old-fashioned, industrial-size elevator and rode it all the way up until it shuddered to a halt on the top floor. The ancient elevator was one of my favorite features left over from the corset factory that had inhabited this building once upon a time.

In contrast to the clunky old elevator, the corridors leading to the lofts were modern and elegant, with pale blue walls, contemporary white sconces, and wide sisal runners laid over the original dark wood flooring. Since mine was the top floor, there were skylights in the halls to further lighten the space.

Derek and I held hands as we walked to my door. It felt comfortable and right somehow to be coming home with him. But maybe that was just me, still reeling from my mother’s enchantment spell.

“Thanks for taking the time to drive up there with us,” I said.

“I was glad to do it. I would’ve hated to miss your mother’s stories of Wiccans and covens. Although,” he teased, “the ‘hey, nonny, nonny’ chant was my favorite.”

I laughed as I reached into my bag for my keys. “I’ll give Robin a call tomorrow and see how she’s doing.”

Without warning, Derek shoved me against the wall and grabbed hold of my chin to force eye contact with him.

“Stay right here,” he whispered, and drew a gun from his waistband.

Wow. He had gone from indulgent lover to warrior man in a heartbeat. “What’re you-”

“Do as I say.”

That was when I noticed that my front door had been smashed to splinters and was dangling drunkenly from one hinge. “Oh, no.”

He pressed his finger to my mouth to quiet me.

With his foot, Derek nudged open what was left of the door and proceeded to slip inside, holding his gun out in front of him. He checked one way, then the other.

His gun. Where the hell had that come from? I was pretty sure he hadn’t been carrying it in Dharma, but now? Didn’t matter. I was glad he had it with him.

I ventured a few steps closer and managed to catch a look at my studio. A gasp escaped from my throat. It was a shambles. Derek whipped around and dropped his hand so his gun was aimed at the floor. With his other hand, he pointed toward the hall.

“Back. Move. Now,” he said with deadly emphasis.

I nodded slowly and stepped into the hall. He edged back inside to continue his search.

Normally I would’ve bristled at Derek’s commands, but now all I could do was hold my hand over my mouth. I felt sick and scared to death. My home had been trashed. Again. The last time it happened, during the investigation into Abraham Karastovsky’s death, I’d known what the intruder had been looking for. This time, I didn’t have a clue.

Robin.

“Oh, God.” I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor.

We’d gotten Robin out of the city just in time. I released the breath I’d been holding, so relieved to know my friend was miles away from here and safe.

There was no way this stupid act of vandalism was an isolated incident. It had to be connected to Alex. And Robin. And that lunatic Galina.

What the hell kind of shit storm had Robin stepped into?

And yes, my mother would have washed my mouth out with soap if she’d heard me using that language, but I didn’t care right now. Whoever had killed Alex and trashed Robin’s place, and then gone on to tear apart Alex’s apartment, had to be the same jerk who’d just wrecked mine.

And I still had no idea what they were looking for.

Last time this happened, I’d been devastated. This time I was just plain mad as hell.

I felt useless and stupid sitting out in the hall. Derek was inside risking his life and I was twiddling my thumbs.

“Well, I can call the cops. Duh.” I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 911 to report the break-in. After a few moments, the dispatcher confirmed that a patrol car was in the area and would arrive shortly. I thanked her and hung up, then punched my speed-dial code for Inspector Lee, refusing to dwell on the fact that I actually had her private number. On speed dial.

Derek walked out of my place and returned the gun to his waistband. “There’s no one inside. Whoever did this is long gone. Are you calling the police?”

“They’re on their way,” I said, pushing myself up to a standing position. “Now I’m waiting for Inspector Lee to