Fatal Dreams (COBRA Securities Book 17) Read online

  Fatal Dreams

  Velvet Vaughn

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2019 VELVET VAUGHN LLC

  ISBN: 978-1-7338636-4-3

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Visit Velvet's website at: www.velvetvaughn.com and her Facebook Fanpage HERE.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my dad who worked hard to build my dream outdoor writing room!

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to sincerely thank the members of my Velvet Vaughn Street Team who help spread the word: Cindi R., Debbie M., Gary A., Karen D., Karen J., Lisa B., Tammy T., Lisa B., Sharon W., Paulyn A and Shelley C. I’m so thankful for all of you and truly appreciate your support. I would also like to thank my social media guru, Kristy O.

  And as always, a huge thank you to my mom. I couldn’t do this without you!

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Notes

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The man was six-feet, four-inches of mouth-watering masculine perfection. Esmerelda Jovanovich chanced one last look over her shoulder, cementing the image of Ethan Addison to her memory before she entered the casino in search of her aunt Lumi. Though he was too far away for her to see his face, she could feel his gaze like a physical touch. He was just so—everything. Big. Strong. Virile. A real-life Viking warrior. Thor, she’d called him.

  The automatic doors swished closed, blocking him from her view. She felt oddly bereft. Strange. She didn’t even know the man, had just met him a couple of hours ago. But soul-deep, she felt as if she’d known him a lifetime.

  Marge Earnshaw, a woman who used to work in her aunt’s fortune-telling shop, was a firm believer in every soul having lived before. It was her specialty and she had people lined up to find out if they were Cleopatra or Calamity Jane, Julius Caesar or Jesse James in a past life. Before her aunt had to fire Marge for skimming credit cards from her clients’ purses—sleight of hand was another of her dubious talents—Marge tried to cajole Esme into letting her read her past, but Esme steadfastly refused. It made no difference to her and she had no desire to find out if, according to Marge, she’d robbed banks or commanded armies centuries ago. Now she wondered if the woman had been on to something. It sure felt as if she’d known Ethan for more than a few short hours.

  Esme had never experienced the instant connection she felt with Ethan with anyone else before. It went beyond his suave looks and fit body, or the fact that he’d come to her rescue. It was almost at the molecular level.

  A missing coworker, her aunt neglecting to answer her cell, and her friend Sophie borrowing her vehicle had Esme jumping in Lumi’s vintage Dodge Charger for the trip to Chicago, only it had broken down on the Interstate, stranding her on the side of the road. Her first impression of Ethan hadn’t been a good one. He’d stopped to help, only she didn’t hear him approach until he spoke. She’d been elbow deep inside the engine block trying to locate the problem when his voice scared the hell out of her and she jumped, banging her head on the open hood.

  Already in a foul mood, she’d accused him of being a highway-stalking serial killer. But his easy charm, sunny personality and rakish good looks quickly won her over and she allowed him to inspect the engine. As soon as he diagnosed the problem, she realized it wasn’t a quick fix. Knowing she needed to find her aunt as soon as possible, she persuaded—okay, insisted—he take her with him. He was headed to Chicago anyway, so it wasn’t an imposition in her mind.

  Not only had he agreed, but he’d arranged for her aunt’s car to be towed to a repair shop and fixed, and then he’d gone out of his way to drop her off at the casino. And he’d done it out of the goodness of his heart. He wouldn’t even allow her to reimburse him for gas. She would pay him back for taking care of her aunt’s car. A good excuse to see him again.

  “Evening, Ma’am.”

  The security guard stationed at the metal detector snapped her from her thoughts. She smiled at him as she passed through, relieved when her assortment of necklaces and bracelets didn’t set off any alarms. She didn’t usually wear her work clothes—lots of scarves and jewelry—in public, but she’d come straight from work. Part of her look was stereotypical fortune teller, but she didn’t care. It brought people to the shop and besides, it was her heritage. A smile spread across her face. Ethan thought she’d been headed to a costume party.

  Her smile turned into a wince. He’d called her a Gypsy and she chastised him for the racist slur. He probably didn’t realize the plight and persecution of the Romani people, her ancestors. Most people didn’t and that’s why the term was still used regularly without public outcry. Still, she could’ve been nicer about correcting him.

  The casino floor was bustling, even at the late hour. Bells dinged and excited chatter filled the air. The scents of cooked food, cheap cologne and sweat mingled in the air. Thankfully this casino didn’t allow smoking, or her eyes would’ve been watering.

  She stopped a passing waitress in a skimpy red top and skirt so short, she’d have no secrets if she bent over, and asked where she could find the poker tables. Following her directions, she spotted her aunt immediately and rushed over. Lumi’s eyes widened and she jumped off her stool.

  “Esme?”

  Throwing her arms around her aunt, she hugged her tight.

  “What in the world are you doing here? What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Give me a second and I’ll explain.”

  Tugging out her cell phone, she typed a quick text to Ethan: Found her. Thx again. OU1.

  His reply was almost instant: Good. Safe travels home. And I plan on collecting.

  She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face, imagining all the ways he could collect.

  Lumi clutched her arm in a fierce grip. “It is him.”

  Esme’s head snapped up and she glanced around the floor. “Him who?”

  “Your soul mate.”

  She spun in a circle. “Where?” Had Ethan followed her inside? She didn’t see his tall, blond head anywhere.

  “The man you were texting.”

  She stopped and faced her aunt. “How do you know it was a man?”

  Her aunt tsked. “Esmerelda Sabine, you know better than to question me.”

  “You’re right. I do, and it was a man. I’ll tell you about him later.” Quickly changing the subject—her feelings for Ethan were too new—she grabbed the stool next to Lumi. Unsur
prisingly, there were several large stacks of chips in front of her aunt’s station. “I’m sorry to interrupt your weekend trip with Ethel, but Femi’s missing.”

  “What do you mean missing?”

  “I had a dre…I mean, Femi didn’t come to work, and she didn’t answer her phone all day. When I drove by her house, she wasn’t there. Then she called me and all she said before the line went dead was, beware, danger is imminent. Her exact words.”

  Esme almost slipped and told her aunt about last night’s disturbing dream of Femi becoming violently ill and dying. Much to her aunt’s chagrin, Esme had no psychic powers whatsoever. She wasn’t precognitive or clairvoyant—that is, until recently. She only remembered bits and pieces when she woke, but the first strange occurrence happened when she dreamed that a bird somehow found its way into their shop and made a mess, only to arrive the next morning and discover a pigeon flying around, and it’d left several messes. She’d laughed at the coincidence. Two nights later, she dreamed someone tossed a rock through her window and sure enough, when she returned home the next day, she found a stone among the shattered shards of glass in her kitchen. What really freaked her out was when she dreamed that the vacant house two doors down from Lumi’s burned to the ground. The next evening, it did.

  She hadn’t told her aunt about her dreams yet because Lumi would make a great big deal about it, claiming that Esme’s powers were finally surfacing. Lumi would swear that Esme had oneiromancy, or the ability to use dreams to predict the future. It would be especially fitting since the name of their business was Celestial Dreams. Esme wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know what was going on, but it was strange that they’d just start suddenly in her late twenties.

  “Esme, dear, what are you doing here?”

  She turned to see Ethel Bowers, her aunt’s best friend, returning from the restroom. She slid off the stool and hugged the older woman. “Femi’s missing.”

  “Oh no,” Ethel gasped. “What happened?”

  Esme quickly explained about her disappearance and then the cryptic call.

  “Should we call the police?” Lumi asked.

  “I did. They’ll put out a missing person’s report twenty-four hours after the phone call.” Which meant they couldn’t do anything until tomorrow evening. Femi might not have that much time.

  “It’s late and we were getting ready to cash out and head to bed,” Lumi said. She scooped her pile of chips into a red bucket with the casino logo emblazoned on the side. “We’ll head home first thing in the morning.”

  Esme grimaced. “There’s one more thing.” She dreaded telling her aunt about her beloved Charger, but she couldn’t keep it from her forever. “I loaned Sophie my car, so I had to drive yours here.”

  Lumi waved a hand. “That’s fine. We’ll follow each other home.”

  Esme sighed. “It broke down on the Interstate well over an hour from here.”

  Lumi deposited the bucket on the table and grabbed Esme’s arms, her eyes raking her up and down. “You aren’t hurt?”

  “Oh, no. I’m fine. It died, but I was able to ease to the shoulder. A man stopped to help me. He arranged for the Charger to be towed to a shop to be fixed and then drove me here.”

  “Where is this savior?” Lumi craned her neck to look over Esme’s shoulder. “I want to personally thank him for taking such good care of you.”

  “He couldn’t stay. He was headed to a job.”

  Lumi’s eyes widened in knowing and she pointed to the cell in Esme’s hand. “The man on the phone. Your soul mate.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Esme hedged. “He was very nice, and he came to my rescue, but yes, he’s the one I was texting.”

  “How old?”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “Early thirties.”

  “He’s handsome?”

  God, yes. “He’s not ugly, no.”

  “Remember what I’ve always told you about the man you’ll marry?”

  From the time she was a little girl, her aunt told her that her soul mate would be a man who was as solid as the earth and would replenish her soul after the loss of her parents. She also said that Esme would recognize him as soon as she met him.

  “I remember.”

  Lumi nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Let’s get some sleep so we can find Femi tomorrow. I want to try calling her, too.”

  Esme trailed after Lumi and Ethel as they cashed out their chips and collected their impressive winnings. Both women wore similar outfits of touristy t-shirts, comfortable stretch pants and colorful sneakers. They wanted everyone to think they were just two middle-aged women visiting the casino for some fun. Instead, they were poker queens.

  Lumi usually dressed much the way Esme was right now with scarves and jewelry but if she walked into the casino decked out like a fortune teller, they’d kick her out for trying to cheat the system, especially when she kept winning. It’d happened before, so Lumi learned her lesson.

  With their winnings tucked inside their fanny packs, they made their way to the bank of elevators that led to the hotel rooms. Lumi and Ethel usually shared a suite, so she’d be sacking out on the sofa, which was fine by her. She didn’t have any clothes or necessities with her, but Lumi always carried an extra toothbrush.

  The elevator doors swished open and a tall man with light hair stepped out, making Esme’s breath catch, only it wasn’t Ethan. She wished she’d snapped a picture of him so she could stare at it, but all she had to do was close her eyes. His image was forever etched in her brain. And her heart.

  Chapter One

  Esmerelda Jovanovich dabbed at the tears flooding her eyes as she stood beside her aunt Luminitsa Cosmescu in front of the ornate gold casket that held the remains of Femi Gilland, her coworker and friend.

  Femi had been missing for five long days when her body was eventually found in a local park by a group of teenagers. After an autopsy, the cause of death had been ruled homicide, but the forensic pathologist was waiting for the toxicology reports to come back before he made a final diagnosis. Though they didn’t know what drug had been used, Femi had been poisoned. The police were investigating, and Esme had been questioned twice by two separate detectives. She’d been the last person to speak with Femi before she disappeared…although she hadn’t really spoken to her. Esme’s phone had rung and when she picked up, a voice far-removed from Femi’s husky, robust tone whispered a spine-chilling warning: “Beware, danger is imminent,” before the line went dead.

  All attempts to locate Femi after the call failed. It wasn’t until her remains were found beneath a weigela shrub that the brutal reality hit home. Femi had been murdered.

  The only positive all week was that the prophetic dreams had stopped just as quickly as they started. The only nocturnal visions she’d experienced had been ones of the carnal variety starring the magnificent Thor.

  As it did so often, her mind drifted back to the Viking god who’d rescued her when Lumi’s car bit the dust on the interstate. Ethan Addison. His blond hair and blue eyes were burned into her memory, as was the muscular physique she wanted to press her body against. Intimately. He looked as if he’d been carved from a slab of marble. His devilish smile brought a boyish charm to a face that should be gracing magazine covers and Times Square billboards.

  She wondered how the case in Chicago was going. Was he back in town yet? Would he call her? Should she call him? So many questions and so few answers. Did she want to see him again? That one was easy. Yes, she did, if for nothing else but to thank him again for coming to her rescue and to reimburse him for taking care of Lumi’s Charger. Somehow, the car had beaten them home. They’d found it parked in the visitor lot behind the house all shiny and operable. It couldn’t have been cheap to have it towed so many miles. The repair shop had also washed and polished it so that it sparkled in all its orange glory.

  Esme clutched her aunt tightly as Femi’s casket was slowly lowered into the ground. The few people who attended the burial were slowly dispersing. Femi had m
ade friends over the years and some of her loyal customers had paid their respects, but as far as family, Esme and her aunt were all she had in this world.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Esme turned to see Bernice Gorman air kiss Lumi on the cheek. Bernice was a fierce rival and had made no bones about disliking Femi. She hated all of them. Her fortune-telling shop was across town and she’d sent spies to Lumi’s house to steal ideas for the décor, only to turn around and go rogue, vamping up her shop until it looked like a caricature. Esme had never been inside, but she’d seen the pictures Bernice proudly posted on her website depicting billowing velvet curtains, brocade furniture and candles burning on every available surface. She even owned a black cat she named Salem. Original. Esme rolled her eyes.

  Bernice was a hack who relied primarily on Tarot cards that she manipulated to her own benefit. If she had any ability to see into the future, Esme would eat her left shoe.

  If Bernice was here…yep, there was her son Bernie Gorman. Bernice and Bernie. Seriously, you couldn’t make stuff like that up. He stood in his usual position of two steps behind his overbearing mother.

  Bernie had always given her the creeps. He was well over six feet tall and weighed about one hundred pounds soaking wet. He was as pale as paste and he slicked his black hair from his face, exposing a prominent widow’s peak. He’d always reminded Esme of an undertaker. He’d pestered her for years, asking her out and borderline stalking her. She’d turned him down gently at first, but he didn’t take no for an answer. She’d finally given up being nice, but even that didn’t work. He asked her out constantly. She turned him down continually. He had the attention span of a goldfish. She’d tell him no, but he’d still call. Frankly, she wasn’t sure there was anyone home upstairs.

  She could feel his gaze on her, so she studiously avoided looking in his direction. Unfortunately, like every other time she encountered him, he refused to take the hint.

  “Hey, Esme.”

  “Hi, Bernie.”